Morning Triku #169 ~ Haiku Theoreticallish

haiku theoreticallish

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Our Wrinkle in Time

Work is what we do,
when not doing what we want.
Like death but with pay.

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Constant Ripples

Time is space between.
Between matters and doesn’t.
Distance less with light.

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Perpetual Emotion

Love is energy.
Hearts, minds and bodies unite.
Time accelerates.

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But Seriously

She fills me up with all things good.
I eat and drink as I should.
Her loving nature knows no bounds.
Sometimes we kiss to giggling sounds.
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She feeds us well and treats me right.
Her love’s returned each day and night.
We doze embraced and wake the same.
When disturbed the cat’s to blame.
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She fuels my fire and quenches desire.
Her talents awe and inspire.
Fun is had every moment we share.
But a love more serious is beyond compare.

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Mutuality

I try to write a love poem most every day.
I try to find the words that are difficult to say.
My heart’s full of joy, beats louder when she’s near.
My brain’s full of mush but the feeling’s clear.
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We hug and kiss every chance we get.
Our love was noted when first we met.
A better matched pair there can never be.
Our futures now welcome and inspired are we.

~*~
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Penning Passions

Another love poem that’s just for you.
It’s another love poem cos it’s what I do.
Though these poems are special in every way,
they’re inspired by our love each and every day.
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I write each one from deep in my heart.
And each second with you is another’s start.
The passion spills with each word I write.
The passion inspired each and every night.
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The sun will rise on a good day, for sure.
I’ll wake with zeal to pen you ever more.
You’ll wake to a kiss and my morning creation.
We’ll snuggle close feeling ever more inspiration.

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Beyond

This love of two no better suited,
a love exalted and never muted.
Arms that hold and wave with glee,
lips that scream “come to me”.
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Quiet moments shared snuggled close,
thankful always for our daily dose.
Troubles and tribulations fade by night.
Bliss is felt with the morning light.
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Endeavors together beyond expectation,
passion inspired beyond imagination.
Strengths multiplied when they’re times two.
Time’s conquered for me and you.

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Space

Penned in my head words leak out.
Even tone’s seen with never a shout.
There’s no laughter, whispers or a scream.
The sun doesn’t shine nor does the moon beam.
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In two dimensions my thoughts do lie.
Depth filtered through one blind eye.
Torn between paper and time,
my heart beats on rhythm and rhyme.
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Love’s too easy when inspiration’s free.
Fear’s too real when the enemy’s me.
Fantasy’s seen with a panoramic view.
Consumption’s felt when all the colors blue.
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Life’s many a hue with every shade of gray.
But black and white’s what we read every day.
Yesterday shapes where our todays begin.
And tomorrows start when life leaks in.

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Seeing the Light

Shades of perfection –
a pause for reflection.
Softness felt on shapely curves,
a goddess of light, calming nerves.
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Time stands still shaped in stone.
A memory forged, never alone.
Shadows illuminate visions anew.
Shades of perfection – as are you!

~*~
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Special thanks to the unknown photographer and inspirational model 🙂

Just Poet

To be a poet one must only write.
And be in awe of day and night.
Inspiration abounds without refrain.
Absorb all, both pleasure and pain.
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I didn’t ask to be me or you, you.
But to express is what we do.
Not all writes can be a song.
But no writes are ever wrong.
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Dawn welcomes most every day.
Shadows of the dark go either way.
Sleep’s never quite enough.
Dreams fill time with better stuff.
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And love it seems is part of the deal.
Hearts will break, to bleed we heal.
The soul burns to see the light.
To be a poet one must only write.

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Wows

With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
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With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
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With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.

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What a Rush

I want to write more love poems
and I want to do it soon.
I don’t want to write of heartache.
I want to snuggle beneath the moon.
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I want to write more love poems
and express the love in my heart.
I want them to inspire
and be reminders when apart.
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I want to write more love poems
and share one each and every day.
I want to write more love poems,
but to rush is not the way.

~*~
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Checking Out

Counting the days till days don’t count,
there’ll be no worries or any doubt.
There’s never to be a frown or a pout.
I could stay in or I can go out.
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Counting the days for my time to sprout,
I’ll get up late with nothing to think about.
I can be really quite or scream and shout.
I’ll always be mellow and never freak out.
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Counting the days to assume some clout,
each moment’s new with adventures to scout.
Destinations will be celebrations to tout.
The sun will shine with or without
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Counting the days thought getting stout.
All will be friends, but for the lout.
I’ll need no maps and never to rout.
I’m never locked in or lucked out.
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Counting days before the days run out,
when never a tear or ever a drought.
Choices all mine, all else to flout.
And blessings counted before checking out.

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Silence

Can you hear it, it’s all around?
The mind is still, there’s not a sound.
Eyes see there’s nothing new.
But change felt, the outside’s blue.
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The darkest hours now muted.
Beating seconds, time’s diluted.
In my heart the view less shaded.
In my soul the hue’s faded.
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Digging deep to find the light,
shadows shorten out of sight.
Echo’s silent, notes scream.
Good nights calling, again to dream.

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Edits

It’s a neutral day, no ups or downs.
Not many smiles but fewer frowns.
The vibrancy of the past’s gone away.
There’s little to color when mind’s gray.
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I woke today, dreams expired.
Futures drag when uninspired.
When words the medium, life’s art.
I feel a need to write a new start.
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Tomorrows verse never complete.
Pictures in the heart with time compete.
Why should I run when I can rhyme?
Exercise is always worth the time.
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I’ve written of dying, it doesn’t end well.
I wrote of death, questioned heaven and hell.
I scribed my love but that got old.
And of course heartbreak, a story retold.
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So I’ll collect my notes of yesterdays.
I’ll rearrange them in other ways.
And with my yellow wand I’ll wave my hand.
Then reappear to see where I land.

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Painting Corners

I promise you all it’s coming soon,
a poem I’ll write with no doom and gloom.
Spring will come and blossoms will bloom,
profoundly imagined locked in winter’s room.
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Winters, like life, always end in demise.
Love again felt will brighten the skies.
Clouds will float and not obscure,
every breath’s a pleasure and pure.
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Summer’s warmth brings the touch of skin.
Icy hearts thaw from deep within.
The hues of fall paint our ground.
A canvas of white offers promise all around.

~*~
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Morning Triku #177 ~ Random Waves

Beyond the Glass

My windows are closed.
The air cold and leaves fallen.
Yet birds sing somewhere.
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Sticky

With the glue of two,
broken hearts can mend anew.
Or someone gets stuck.
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Self-Love

Love Unimpassioned,
is much like one hand clapping,
every morning.

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Change

All are born with a pocketful of change.
Quantity’s irrelevant, it’ll all rearrange.
Heads or tails is all we’re to find.
We face our truths or lie behind.
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Standing tall, shiny and bright,
how many tosses to land upright?
How many flips and wobbles and spins
or hands slapped and someone wins.
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We can add and subtract, save or spend.
Though the odd’s even it just depends.
Change can jingle or bear the weight of earth.
What is shared counts our worth.

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Reality Was

With love in one’s heart each day a new start.
The hurts endured and more is lured.
When one’s face to the light the burn blinds sight,
but warmth’s the start off a thawing heart.
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With love in one’s heart each day a new a start.
When reality’s behind tomorrow’s to find.
Optimism prevails when pain derails.
And negative’s a restart for the love in one’s heart.

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Night & Day

I rose at sunrise hoping for light.
Solace unfound in the dead of night.
The sky was clear, the outside bright.
Dirty dishes in my sink obscured my sight.
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Beauty’s framed between the panes.
Life’s contained within our brains.
The past raps our view in chains.
Hearts beat with bloody stains.
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An hour passed and coffee’s done.
Distracted by clutter there’s no time for fun.
The future surrounds with nowhere to run.
Plans unmade have already begun.
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Standing still won’t get you there.
Steps taken lead to somewhere.
Dreams awaken wishes to share.
Wishing only dreams awakens a nightmare.
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Steady ground supports our feet.
Standing tall feels complete.
Second cups ready, I feel the heat.
And a little sugar helps make it sweet.

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Dwelling

Bed soon awaits this dreary day.
I wish sweet dreams would come my way.
I don’t want to fight or need to play.
I just hope tomorrow’s better than today.
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I know this sounds gloomy, but I’ve only begun.
This poem could get worse or might be fun.
But we’ll have to wait until I’m done.
So let’s start again, this is line one.
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Bed soon awaits this dreary day.
A day so dismal I’ve nothing to say.
But I didn’t get beat up or have dues to pay.
And that’s a lot better than it was yesterday.
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Sad days are passing and heart’s mending well.
Tomorrow holds no promise or soul to sell.
My heart will beat again then I’ll joyously yell.
Now that sounds better, I’ve no longer to dwell.

~*~
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