Cacophony #Haiku

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Deafening birdsong
Contains all four seasons’ voice
Wild poetry stirs

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Tone

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With every sound
and each word uttered
there is pause,

a silence,
as if waiting for the touch
of a lover – distant still,
but out there.

Until such time,
words float as poetry
until caught and lightly wrought
on cool staves,

and as they stir,
no tone is forced, harsh
and breathy –

they wait and would wait
forever –
as every song, like love,
is incomplete
until it hears its own echo.

Strings Snap

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Palms astride reality
articulate and come together
to cup a sad butterfly,
my lifeless heart.

Sad veins and tired, raw blades
frantically percussion; with a quick riff
of brushing cymbals,
blood pumps stronger,

sharp wings strike the air,
shattering its magical glass
in the struggle to be free.
Palms astride reality

with lazy elbows bent,
plucks at strings, unplugged,
while stomaching tingling
insects that crawl

to his insipid tune –
all the while, the wild
butterfly is reborn.
Metamorphosis is paramount,

escape is key
to sanity and freedom –
all happening in his sweaty hands
as he scurries back…

either side or reality.