šHaiku 18 – Despair, Choice.
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The complicated way free will is threaded between hope, depression, life and death.
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Do we really choose anything?
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Ever thought it was strange all the different meanings attached to the same colour?
This is a very peculiar poem. It came to me suddenly, while half asleep and trying to instagram without letting my phone fall onto my face. Sometimes I really feel that we don’t consciously create art, it just rises to the surface through from a deep uncharted place within. I’m still not sure what this poem actually means…Usually in these cases, it’s meaning is slowly uncovered by my conscious mind day by day.
I resisted the temptation to re-write or ‘improve’ it. Just kept it exactly how it came to me. Enjoy!
Here he stood, on a cold pavement thinking of the love left.
Seeing shadows navigate the streets under the colour of magma – the dance of the bereft.
He walked for miles & miles, right foot before left.
Eventually his strides slowed, there was a fork in the road and a church in the middle – love snowed.
Everything was to his right, he went left.
By Alpha Cauwenbergh
Ā© Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh ā Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc 2017. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blogās author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh ā Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
I feel this could be my best one to date. Especially in terms of complexity of meaning and richness of imagery. The thing I love most about the haiku as a poetic concept, is the challenge of saying almost a whole chapter’s worth in just three lines.
