Chain, chain, chain, chain of haiku fools

zanzjan

killin' all teh werds
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Innocence shines forth,
a beacon! a holy grail!
blinds us to the knife.
 

CDSinex

Imagine something clever here.
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Penguins write poems
about flying somewhere warm
as winter sets in.

First, it is the end of summer in the Antarctica, winter comes early.

Second, I do know that penguins don’t fly, but they exercise poetic license when they write poetry. :D (As do we all.)

Third, I know that global warming is a serious issue.



 

zanzjan

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Wagons burn below
the rampart walls; famine, plague,
omens writ in smoke.
 

zanzjan

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Triumph and glory
tattooed on your fists? And yet
you lie at my feet.
 

zanzjan

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You can't quite pin down
the fluttering moth that is
your own anxious past.
 
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