Haiku #71

Tussling the awkward
The tremors and the valleys
‘Til I get it right



It dropped in their midst
In front of fathers and sons
Mothers and daughters
Someone’s family and friend
Slowly dawned on their faces
And so did terror
They only had mere seconds
To flee certain death
But his feet took him nearer
Against all reason
Against the great tide of fear
That swirled inside him
And crippled the bravest man
Even as others
Closed eyes and shielded with arms
He sprang and covered
The grenade with his body
And thought to himself
On the last millisecond
“I hope they’re okay”


A murder of crows
On the roofs and power lines
Their wings speak of grief
The ones that came and will come
Death’s own messengers
If one believes the legends
Their eyes seem lifeless
Despite their lively cawing
Scaring the children
Ammunition for nightmares
Though unintended
Their grim reputation holds
An ill-starred stigma
Society abhors them
Harmless they are not!
Inciting men to action
To silence their fears
And those cacophonous beaks
The collective thins
Dies and changes the meaning
A murder of crows


It was 1 am
Yet a loud buzzing
Woke excitable dogs
And irritable neighbors
On and off then on and off
The power surged unsteadily
As if unsure
A grand light show
Of sparks and glowing lines
Drew screams of horror
From a growing audience
And I stood there trembling
Weakly calling for help
As my life flashed
In tandem with the lightning
Before my eyes at 1 am


His audience awaits
Shifting restlessly
On comfortable seats
Some stare at phones
Others check clocks
All of them waiting
A long deep breath
Another follows after
A mantra behind each
Hands damp with sweat
He wipes them off
On his faded jeans
Suppressing his tremors
For a while longer
He stares at his spot
Imagines a circle
A circle of possibility
He can be anything
Be anyone he wanted
Inside the small circle
The crowd will see
Someone worthy
Of applause
Somebody worthy
Of accolades
Within that circle
He’ll be free
Free of the trembling
Free of self-doubts
Free of negativity
He breathes
His longest
Deepest breath
Parts the curtain
Walks and enters
His sacred circle
And becomes


His eyes are bloodshot
The deadline draws ever near
Sat on the same spot
His fingers tapping in fear

The caffeine moves him
In quick yet wavering jolts
To the boss’ whims
He could not think to revolt

He dots every i
Made sure to cross all the t’s
He let’s out a sigh
Proclaims with teary-eyed glee

Work is finally over
It’s time for a hot shower


A feather
An owl’s feather
And a memory
Of an urban legend
Of a nightly court
Stalking the night
He remembers his childhood
He remembers his parents’ deaths
He remembers his attempts
At playing detective
He remembers his failure
He remembers his fear

A crash of glass breaks his reverie
Three owls land before him
Not the nocturnal birds of prey
He would occasionally see in the woods
These are men donning owl masks
Men armed to the teeth

He defends himself
Their deadly art circles him
Drawing blood with their talons
He breaks them
Yet his breaking does not hinder them
They shed no blood
These men donning owl masks
Were already dead

He recalls again the urban legend
His childhood fears
His parents’ deaths
His failure
His fear

He shakes off the memories
And steels himself
These owls and their court
They have trespassed into his city
They have trespassed into Gotham
They will pay the price
He will break their talons
He will bring the court crashing down
He will teach them the justice
He will teach them to fear the bat

Running Poetry IX

The runner’s high and unrequited love conspired to light a fire at the end of my pen. How I envy the me from back then. Surely, the me from back then would envy me of now as well should two points in time meet. For now, I’ll just savor these sweet words from my bygone days.

This unending loop
Of relentless despondence
I will escape this

Clumsy and crooked
The driven newbie sprinted
An inspiring sight

Pain fell away and I just
Felt ordinary

My focus swam in quicksand
Then I drown in waves of lethargy
But all these I will withstand
To achieve falling trajectory

The lure of controlled falling
Made overpowering in their presence
All my restraint collapsing
Falling without fear of consequence

The hard fought freedom from pride
Quickly retrogressed into boredom
Falling oversimplified
Stared at the sky to crush the doldrums

Weather turned ambivalent
Begot errors in judgement
To satisfy sentiments
The truth became evident
I am an unrepentant
Sucker for discontentment

Do I fall to exhaustion?
Do I break from starvation?
The miles carved away at the answers
And all that is left is crashing thunder

They started with sweet whispers
Then promised undisguised threats
Courage became mere slivers
Yet enough for an upset

Proper arm swing
Corporate douchebags
The Plank


Almost too quick for their eyes
They watched its powerful paw
Hastened the alpha’s demise
A massive bloodthirsty jaw
Crushed the beta savagely
Then it stood and they cowered
And they escaped speedily
Yet one was not a coward

The lone omega stood his ground
His pack was already broken
Family nowhere to be found
The thought might have just awoken
A low growl rising from his chest
His knees and head will never bend
He’ll give his all, his very best
To take the monster to his end


The fear felt alive
Roamed from center to my side
A panic attack
Control was not what I lacked
Fear just overrides
Pushed mind and heart down the line
The wall to my back
Time for the spirit to act
Run every mile
Throw caution down a large pyre
Courage in tall stacks
Let no cowardice distract
Fear may be alive
But confidence is my guide!