Haiku Overdose

Caught up with childhood mates,
Relived, rejoiced the old tales,
We are all different people now.

I am back. Back to writing for my own pleasure. The pressure to write just because I haven't written for a while is no longer compelling. I wish to write and the words are flowing. As non-sensical as they ever were. But they make every little sense to me. That is where I encrypt my secrets.

The sky moves from blue to gray,
Time gets frittered away,
But I just sit and stare.

Like bullets, the drops fall from the sky,
a music melodious to get you high,
but yet motionless I still stare.

Haikus have been the sort of poetry that has always captured my attention. Nandan believes they should be called as "Trivenis" because of the confusion in the form of Haikus. 2 lines guiding your thoughts in one direction and out of the blue comes the anti-climax. The irony of Life seems beautifully embedded in such a style of story telling.

Skilfully stacking up the sands,
Castles built with bare hands,
There comes the high tide.

Threat of a storm inevitable,
Conscience swings intermineable,
Yet I chug on... with Diesel Power!