Maktub

It is written -
all has been decided
in the onset
of the time.

It is written -
where all the desert sand grains
after violent storm
to fall.

It is written -
how I feel about the desert,
how the desert
fills my heart.

It is written -
on the faces of all oceans
in the language
of the dreams.

It is written -
in the light and in the darkness,
evil, good
and all between.

It is written -
the screams the whispers,
pain and laughter,
fire, wind that feed the pain.

It is written,
it’s been decided -
how all lives …
and how all dies.

It was written,
in the absence of all matter,
by the hand
that made it all. 

The Star With A Broken Heart (For D.)

No star

can shine

when broken hearted.

She barely

survives

on light from

other stars.

Until the love –

a handful

shining

moon dust;

can fall on her –

un-brake

her  lonely

and betrayed heart.

Slowly,

carefully and shyly

she then begins

to glow again.

Pulsating, gleaming

in the ether - 

she’s ready now

to shine again.

Look up

at her and touch her,

love her, 

say a prayer;

Remember 

that no star can shine

with broken heart.

"The medium is the message" (Dreams Haiku)

Herbert Marshall McLuhan, 
(July 21, 1911 – December 31, 1980)

1.
Two black kings
and no queens?
Is it an omen?
2.
How confusing 
are dreams.
How awful...
3.
Dreaming... I fly.
I weak up
wingless.
4.
Sometimes the night 
wants me be 
sleepless.
5.
I'am praying 
for dreamless
autumn nights.
6.
Realm of dreams...
Slowly waltzing.
7.
Music or screams
I hear 
while dreaming?
8.
Am I wake?
Are you 
in the mirror?
9.
Night and day 
melt... 
Into oblivion.

Nine Nights With Nightmares (A Sunset Haiku)

1.
The night
is slowly crawling
upon me.
2.
My hearth's frozen,
my soul's locked
in pain.
3
Patient demons
in dreams
wait for me.
4.
Are dreams
chains or
chains we are?
5.
Break the chain
or the chain
will break your neck.
6.
Go and fight!
You can win!
Go to sleep
7.
The demons
that hunt me
are not me.
8.
My fears -
my nightmare's
favourite food.
9.
Morning...
First coffee sip -
life goes non...

From Dusk Till Dawn (A Sunset Haiku)

"So long as we are being remembered, we remain alive"

Carlos Ruiz Zafon

(The shadow of the wind)

1.
The sun's up,
a little bird's
happy.
2.
Two little birds
dancing 
and kissing.
3.
So gracious 
the humming bird 
flight is.
4.
The pain of the earth 
is also 
my pain.
5.
Ten "I hate"
are less than one
"I love..."
6.
The rain 
loves the sun - 
a rainbow is born.
7.
A child's smile
makes the universe
turn.
8.
Glorious
sunrise - 
petty sunset.
9.
After the last 
sunset - 
nothing...

Nine Steps Down (A Sunset Haiku)

“Nothing is more frightening than a hero that lives to tell his story.”

                                                             Carlos Ruiz Zafon

                                              (The Shadow Of The Wind)

1.

Tears welling up.

I will not

see you.

2.

The universe’s

weeping –

I miss you.

3.

My pain

isn’t me.

I dive in it.

4.

Dark, red rose

Is the key

to all doors.

5.

There are

no doors down

in the desert.

6.

Ocean of roses

the mad sun

imposes.

7.

Is life

a mirage

in the desert?

8.

Oasis or

vision

I see?

9.

A dark, red rose

I bring –

you saved me.

Nine Happy Thoughts (A Sunset Haiku)

"God gives us life but the devil is the world's landlord."

                                                              Carlos Ruiz Zafon

                                               (The Shadow Of The Wind)

1.

“The Happiness

Project” –

that’s so sad!

2.

Perfect bricks!

Is the building

complete?

3.

A falcon

loved the sun.

Then it burned.

4.

When time’s

dragging -

the life’s empty.

5.

From inside - out

the quality

born is.

6.

From

outside-in

quality vanish…

7.

Quality

brings substance

to form.

8.

Breathe in and out -

Happy is

that simple.

9.

Happiness…

The pursuit’s

the door key.

Of Sunset Haiku And Verbal Paintings Made Of Exactly 81 Syllables

I love haiku. It feels to me like the short wakizashi sword in the hands of a samurai warrior who lost his long katana sword in a battle with more skilled swordsmen and is forced to battle an uneven fight.

Haiku can touch the reader’s heart in a quick, throbbing moment causing tears, sometimes a smile. Just like wakizashi that sends one’s soul to the creator with one last tear or with one last smile. I found this “weapon” exotic and I have tried to master it when I lost my own Katana. 

All knowledge came to the West from the East. Haiku came to the West where the sun goes down as an art form in the early 20th century and many have attempted to master it since. It came from the East where the sun comes from in the morning to travel to the West again and again.

I have experimented with haiku and came up with a form I decided to call “A Sunset Haiku”.  I use 3 lines of 9 syllables Haiku as a building stones. I incorporate them into 9 sonnets to integrate them in one, coherent “western-tradition” poem. 

Each sonnet of the poem can subsist separately as a haiku. All nine pieces combined, develop into 9 logically connected haikus, telling a story, transmitting a message or creating an image of a verbal painting made of exactly 81 syllables.

Sometimes I feel that the Sunset Haiku found me. I did not invent it. I just followed, so I could tell my stories in a new way. If one has something to say the style is of a secondary importance. I enjoy telling stories using the Sunset Haiku nevertheless.

Nine Flaps Of Wings (A Sunset Haiku)

“…what is really killing him is loneliness. 

Memories are worst than bullets.”

                                     Carlos Ruiz Zafon

                     (The Shadow Of The Wind)

1.

Chasm in front.

Darkness

behind me.

2.

I take that step –

I am flying.

Down.

3.

No bottom!!!

Endless

the fall down is.

4.

Shadow merciful

quick

brings relief.

5.

With shadows

my soul

is now flying.

6.

Here no time,

no sun

and no stars come.

7.

The dawn

is a memory

only…

8.

As a story

only

I do exist.

9.

Flying,

bottomless…

I am abyss.

Torturous

My soul is being

bended, twisted,

pulled, viciously tormented,

by the voices of the mad.

Their growling, 

desolated singing, 

moaning, screaming, 

their highly pitched barks;

Banging, clapping,

falsetto singing;

squatting figures

all around.

Throughout my mind

the motley colors,

my pierced brain

are tearing apart. 

Dead King – Immortal poet

(to Hristo Botev)

“O tempora! O mores!”

with sorrow he exclaimed,

and rightfully infuriated

was the poet who was shot.

In his immortal poem

where he was the king,

his angry words –

his loyal subject.

He armed his word

and gave them rifles,

and uniformed them,

so he can go with them in war.

Then, as a king,

of his domain

he led his words

into the battle,

so he could liberate

his long asleep

and dormant

country man.

The shot had sang -

the king had trembled,

the bullet kissed

his royal heavy head.

The king descended

with a bullet in his forehead,

and then ascended in the heaven

where the immortal poets dwell. 

Dance macabre (Eternal)

In room with 

dancing shadows,

where marble

glimmer in the dark,

and where 

shadowless musicians  

play on violins

made of stars,

you - the queen

with no reflection -

you take my hand -

we slowly dance.

And over darkest

mountain ridges

my battered soul

begins to fly.

.

What’s left of me   

bellow is waltzing

on dusty,

marble dancing floor.

I know that beat,

I’ve heard the music –

the melody of

wounded, aching souls.

Eternally antagonistic –

two pieces of one whole - forever now

are separated - I am the pieces 

of one body and a traveling in sadness soul.

The dance will never end, 

nor it has beginning.

I am the floor, the music 

and the shadows on the floor.

And so my soul will always travel.

The rest of me will dance macabre - 

lost in melody 

of wounded, aching souls.

Seasons And Time (Sunset Haiku)

1.

Wild,

rampant wild blows.

I feel winter.

2.

Menacing –

a shadow came by…

Now what?

3.

A rose

dancing in a little breeze.

Ah…Summer.

4.

How time flies…

God!

You are beautiful!

5.

Distant,

tinder’s coming.

I see rain.

6.

Light bolt

reaps dark heavens.

Energy!

7.

Water’s caressing

the stones.

Love’s easy.

8.

Cant’s say no

to the wind.

It’s just passing.

9.

A plane above…

Soon, like time,

it’s gone.

Nine Syllables Of Expectation (Sunset Haiku)

1.

Whispering

leafs…

The autumn’s here.

2.

A falcon’s

cry…

Could pain outlast us?

3.

Where pain

goes...

after it leaves us all?

4.

Butterfly’s

brisk flight

captured the sun.

5.

Familiar

song…

Tears well up now.

6.

The wind’s blowing.

Meaningless

time flows…

7.

No shadow

for me

has the desert.

8.

Snow falls

on a lone wolf.

He’s watching.

9.

Time has its ways

to get you.

Always.

The Triple C World (Life On Credit)

The instantaneous

gratification nature

of a competitive,

consumption driven world;

Commercially dictates

a quality perception –

prefabricated,

inexpensive realm to all;

Aggressive personality

assimilation is

nurturing continuously

buying bio-mass;

Creativity and personality expression –

rewarded only

when supporting

buying trends.

The multitude of forms

accumulation –

consumer’s craved

substance... substitute.

The very concept

of a quality perception –

eradicated daily

by commercials, credit and then... debt.

Metamorphosis

By night a wolf I am,

I’m gray and angry

who all the hunters

want to kill

By day

I am a falcon,   

with angry cry

I fall upon my prey

An ugly spell

by ancient magus

has cut our love

and us apart

By day a man I am,

a warrior adoring battles.

I often feed

my sword with blood

By nigh I am a woman,

and a healer.

I use my wisdom

to inspire and to help

But only

for some precious moments

when mighty sun

is kissing quiet earth;

we are allowed

to be a man

and be a woman, to look

into each other’s eyes

The moment’s gone –

and you are a falcon, I am a man

and both we cry

Tonight again

at golden sunset,

we both will cry

in pain again;

and once again

you’ll turn to woman

and I will be

a  wolf again.