A Linked Haiku


The taste of fire is

not the taste of cinnamon.

It is more bitter.


The flavor lingers.

Deep brainwaves revive the bite,

conjure memories.


Bursting flower lights,

shrill cries, organized chaos.

A foot at his feet.


He startles awake,

dreaming of the fight, asleep

at the traffic light.*


Car horns and bomb shells

evoke times of poverty,

love, and body parts.


This is the way of the world;

Always war in times of peace.


*Lines two and three of this stanza are borrowed lines from Jackson Browne’s The Pretender.


*Insert your thought here*

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s