the paper filter

residue of my consciousness

Month: April, 2013

Haiku 02 – Winter

Fingers stiff from cold
Are wrapped in a lover’s hand
And pressed to warm lips.

——–

Look up

Fingers trail this skin.
Prints sear an opening in this physique,
And the husk begins to fall away,
Layer by layer,
Unearthing an ember that glows inside,
Brighter still with every heartbeat.
Every heartbeat a pound on the drums of courage
Of me standing before you.

A hurricane howls within;
A debris of doubt and the unknown,
Swirling in its midst.
But in the eye of the storm,
Lies the plain truth of a tranquility
And I am unafraid.

Haiku 01

Just like spring time you
Came back into my life and
Made me feel alive.

160413

A loud bang.
A crippling silence.
A tableau of dust,
And limbs, and white noise.

A movement
A realisation
A shriek, a cry, a wail.

Wives, lost.
Husbands, gone.
Children dead, bodies still warm.

We are born equal.
And when we die we are just as equal,
six feet underground, shoulder to shoulder covering every inch of earth.
Paving a road of corpses
From Boston to Afghanistan.

Trash

Paper… Lots and lots of paper.
Crumpled balls of the completely unnecessary, processed, byproduct of trees.

Living in a digital age,
What is the use of paper?
Proof of purchase?
Proof of my educational merits?
Proof of my word against theirs?
Proof of my existence?

To solidify the notion of an idea, an emotion, an expression?
To forge a physical link between ourselves and the intangible within ourselves and around us?

To think that all this came from a life source…
One that provided life and shelter and food.
Maslow’s basic hierarchy of needs.

And yet here it lies
A mountain in a mesh of aluminium.

Trash.