Thursday, February 17, 2011


I was trying out the mode Haiku for the first time, it is refreshingly liberating. Although this is more of a word based one and not strictly 'hora' based.

That fruit on life’s labour-tree
While tasting of which  one is oblivious
To the toil growing took

The juice of fleshy fruit
Enchanting the senses thoroughly, that grates not
The coarse textured seed within

Listening to the river rushing
The swift musical harmony erodes any sense
Of getting ones feet wet

Passion to me has always been a sort of loss. An immersion of the self so deep that the internal sense of time or continuity is lost. This disconnection with the motion of ones life, the disorientation I feel when I come out of the phase is how I recognize it. Sad in a way because it takes the death of something to recognize that it lived.

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