|Haikus (standard:poetry, 518 words)|
|Author: Girl||Added: Mar 07 2001||Views/Reads: 3098/1713||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|One might think that this is a series of haikus based on the title. It isn't. It's sort of a stream of consciousness. If anyone would like to give feedback I am curious to know if the simplicity in vocabulary is effective in making this more poignant.|
Haikus _____________________ Itís two in the morning I sit on my porch and look at the snow around me And the cloud cover hanging so low in the sky It all feels so close So comfortable The world seems like itís mine I think about the boy And that conversation we had About life And how I have never talked like that before How I wished that he would never stop talking And how I wished that he had called me tonight And how he tried to suffocate himself two years ago But he woke up He wasnít dead And things werenít that bad Then I think about haikus They are fascinating I wonder who came up with them And why they decided that it was poetry And what is the difference in culture That caused haikus in the East And verse in the West This is not a poem Because I do not write poetry I remember that mood I was in today It was bad I donít know why I remember those moods Iíve been in for years They were bad I donít know why I remember that feeling of discomfort That tingles in my brain Then spreads to my body And I feel sick But I am not sick Click here to read the rest of this story (113 more lines)
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