Rise up towards the dawning red, never a hostage to that stolid fiend, the moor of despairs - Your flames burn those fermenting shadows, where an indolent spawn was birthed from tears of seasonal limbo. Walk tall through wintry haars and in the dead of the night, cast your wrath around and avail yourself a new Kingdom!
As I came across a contest to send in a haiku themed around sixties cult gothic soap opera ' Dark Shadows ', I set myself immediately up to the task and wrought a threesome of haikus. While used to write poems - in English, which is not my native language, which is Dutch - haikus demand a trifle more concentration and effort from me, and I am not sure whether I get the count of syllables correctly, as the way my Flemish ear hears and interprets them from spoken, might be entirely different to whom is English is his or her mothertongue. The fey and rain-soaked atmosphere outside the kitchen window at this moment (I live in Scotland, my adopted new homestead) served my purpose and colours the mood found in these haikus which I had offered for the prize draw. The first one is serviceable but probably off the mark regarding the requirements of a haiku (a pseudo-haiku so-to-say), but all three together are now crafted anyway into a full-bodied poem of my own whims...
'How did I come into this', he told himself in thoughts, munching on a buttered ham sandwich, matter-of-factly, with the air of a man who has seen it all and came to accept the vicissitudes of life, still somewhat grudgingly. Suddenly, unaware that his moody rethoric question would turn out to be an adumbration of his forthcoming brewing imagination,this lama guy materializes close to him, floating saintly above the floor, all rugose leathery skin, all the bearings of sanctity, and all Eastasian insular smugness that comes with those ruddy chaps. It was one of those reincarnistas , who play with words: dharma, karma but sadly no shoarma to salivitate his appetite running asunder. The lama secreted bliss and smiled patronizing. No less like a magician holding all cards and conning the crowd to believe in his tricks. His speech was sheer catechismus,repeated over time til his voice, now shrill and trembling, buckling under all that panache, could no longer mask that his enl...
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