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The deadline for submissions of haiku on the theme of Disintegrate is midnight tonight!
How to submit to Pure Haiku
If you would like to submit your haiku for publication on this site, please send a maximum of 5 haiku written in the classical form on the current theme to: –
purehaiku (at) gmail (dot) com
with SUBMISSIONS, the current THEME and your NAME in the subject line.
Please include the following in the body of the email: –
Your first name
Your last name
Your email address
Your haiku (all 5 in one email please) (they do not have to be titled)
The full address of your blog or website if you have one (only one site per submission please)
The name you want to appear on the copyright
One sentence introducing yourself. Be quirky and interesting – you want people to visit your blog, don’t you?!
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Picture by Susan Cipriano on Pixabay.
see these future vessels,
fine crafted, seasoned, wooden walls
A sense of fierce pride
sweeps through them like a fever,
heroes of the hour.
The elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor with a lurch. Sarah’s heart leapt into her mouth. The doors opened. She stepped through and immediately looked from left to right hoping that there would be a sign for a bathroom. She was in luck, an arrow pointed down the corridor to her left. Nervously she tripped down the uncarpeted passageway, conscious of the unfamiliar click of her recently purchased high-heeled shoes on the polished tiles.
She checked her wristwatch, breathing a sigh of relief, finding that she was still fifteen minutes early. She had plenty of time to make final adjustments to her hair and lip gloss. Despite meticulous preparations a girl could never be sure could she. She swung the door open and found it empty. Only then did she realise that there had been no-one in the corridor either. Resting her clutch bag on the side, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, pleasantly surprised that no adjustments were necessary. In fact she was thinking that she had seldom taken this much trouble over her appearance and she hoped that it would pay off.
She heard the door open and, turning, saw a young girl enter. Smiling she stepped toward the door, which the girl was holding for her. Exiting she turned to the right and once more saw an empty corridor. She counted the doors till she found the number she required and steeling herself gave a firm double knock. From inside she heard a deep voice, “Please come in, the door is unlocked.”
Setting her face into what she imagined was a confident expression she gently pushed against the door. It swung inwards easily. Trying to look self-assured she took a step through and was astonished at the sight that greeted her.
What was Sarah doing, why was she there, what so surprised her, answers in the comments box please, just to see if anyone comes close.
The next through train is from Wapping
at this speed it will not be stopping
when you see it go past
it will be very fast
and all it’s passengers ears will be popping.
Do not dwell upon
life’s melancholy moments,
ponder joy ahead.
Stealthily he waits
while in her silken bower,
graceful limbs bewitch,
a spur to fateful passion
for when spent, he cannot flee.
Pure thoughts emanate
from his serene countenance,
smile of the Buddha.
On a visit to the local museum of antiquities today I passed by a glass casket and I heard the figure inside sing,
For me no stone at head or feet,
Buried ‘neath the sodden peat,
Full three times I died, at the hands
of former dwellers in this land,
messenger to the gods my fate,
my kinsmen’s problems to relate
our hunting failures, weather woes
humiliation by our foes,
my message to our Gods was clear
but they pretended not to hear,
With wrists behind me tightly bound,
A cord around my neck was wound,
a rock against my temple dashed
then with a knife, throat crudely slashed
my patriotic chore now done
in Eden’s glade my spirit runs,
though from the earth my body raised
my final bed a tomb full-glazed,
and as I lie in endless slumber
my name forgotten, now just a number.