No question is harder than this alarming dialogue
must I completely forget each joy given to me?
Fear is the adversary; it suggests I remain free:
no vision is equal to this imagination so vague!
It's a disadvantage to express beliefs that are rejected
by the masses manipulated by contrasting science, not faith;
they become invalided by bizarre minds lacking worth,
and they affect us with their derogative philosophy of creed!
When untruths are perceived as facts and truths as misconception,
we run the risk of irrationality and stand on the brink of confusion;
where's the authentic sense of reason that connects us to reality?
Be transformed by all invisible forces and you'll lose your sanity!
No prospective is clearer than the one that's ever present
and deviates us from the right course taken by old wisdom;
will we err by irrational wish, by naive reaction or foolish intent?
In this circle of extreme folly, we choose allusion over realism!
From "What is scifaiku: a manifesto"
"SciFaiku is a distinctive and powerful form of expression for science fiction. It packs all the human insight, technology, and vision of the future into a few poignant lines.
"SciFaiku is haiku and it is not haiku. It is driven by the inspiration and many of the principles of haiku, but it takes its own direction. It deviates, expands, and frees itself of haiku."
Two SciFaiku by Chetta Achara
#1
far from mother Earth
Sol is just another star
in this alien sky
#2
far from Earth
am I too old to wish
on that shooting star
#2 published in HAIKU DIALOGUE – Looking Out – far from Earth – long list, The Haiku Foundation, 08/28/2024
Forgive me but I just don't understand
What drives “people” to enter a school
Massacre forty young people
And burn their female teacher alive
It's beyond my comprehension
How an intelligent caring human being
Can willingly commit this atrocity
There lies the crux of the matter
They are NOT “intelligent caring human beings”
They are EVIL MONSTERS... period!
They don't belong to the HUMAN race!
They are freaks of nature
An anomaly... deviates from normal human behavior
Who have a totally warped sense of right and wrong
The lunatic fringe... THAT MUST BE STOPPED
At all costs... this cannot continue
This is NOT a normal human condition
Civilized people can fathom the depth
That these sub-humans will go to
As with the absolute majority of peace loving individuals
I am appauled beyond belief
I would like to say I'm speechless
Which is obviously not the case... this site is a forum
To express our absolute and utter rage
When these deviants commit these atrocities
IT'S A TOTALLY DISGUSTING OUTRAGE!!!
(a previous post)
The soul reaps its rewards
as it is compromised
as tomorrow never dies.
A faded glory...
Souls linger on, in either heaven
nor Hell only Purgatory.
Futures are left undone, never won
histories are full of things never known
as tomorrow flies.
The reapers machine needs its price
paid in flesh and bone as tomorrow never dies.
I see you tomorrow n the past of yesterday’s
future furies and funerary rights.
Nothing ever leaves it relocates and deviates.
Matter, is not destroyed it only breaks on through
to the other side, as days go n nights come...
the hands of the clock never slow.
Eternity spent frozen in the light of infinity
in thoughts faster than night,
as tomorrows never die,
they only come and go n fade slowly away.
…and only the stain of history marks
the passing storms as tomorrow may never fly!
But, only fade slowly away...
...each and every day…
...as Tomorrow May Never Die
The art displayed by nature is a gift-
sometimes not noticed in a passing glance.
To pause, look, and admire creates a shift
as we observe this artwork- not by chance.
Yes, nature paints with its creative tools,
those grand designs on species of the wild.
It never deviates from patterned rules-
like how a Zebra's fancy coat is styled.
Amazing how those stripes, concentered-placed
around the neck extend into its mane.
The inkblot images continue, traced;
the balance of true symmetry, sustain.
The diamond shape of stripes upon its face
and those that meet precisely, strait or flared,
reveal that God steers nature's brush with grace;
how else could such perfection be declared?
December 4, 2021
Contest: You Select Again
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Clock is
always working.
It lives every moment.
Doesn't waste even a second.
Live each second like clock,
enjoying each
moment.
Clock is
thoughtless and calm.
Mind at the task in front.
While at work emulate the clock.
Employ all sense organs,
enjoy moment
in hand
Clock is
detached, serene.
It keeps ticking non-stop.
Nothing deviates it's focus.
It teaches we can be
perfect if we're
steadfast
If we
do all our jobs
full day like a clock, then
we will have perfectly blissful
life, full of joy and peace.
Living, not just
alive!
25.05.2021
Note : Heptastich is a poetic form with syllable count of 2,4,6,8,6,4,2
Syllable count checked at PS syllables counter
Submitted to
Contest Name : Time
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Premier contest winner 6th position
Resubmitted to
Constance La France
''T'' Contest, New or
My world had the same aspects as my life.
Its spaces were roughly the size of a fine ship.
Its spirit was comparable to that of a wooden knife.
There are clouds and snow in the skies tied by a clip.
The motion of stars and galaxies in the universe
The elevators, rail lines, various planes, and donkeys.
A physical item rotates and returns to its source.
Our lives were full of topics that sought to address.
Witnessing people who lived long or short lives.
At the same time, the extent of people" s ideals differ.
The difficulty "who do I desire to be as I grow up?".
The unusual answer was, "I view to focus on myself."
I'm stumbling through the darkness of ignorance.
People never acquire this away from their life on Earth.
They leave nothing behind except for their voice.
And corpses are buried deep underground after death.
I've lived and smiled; I've had a life and laughed around it.
It is firm to return and unmake errors that we made.
My focus is on the unseen; the scope of people's lives deviates.
My memory of the 500,000 corpses will never fade.
We meet in the glimmer of the emerald meadow,
you become the placid patina of the pearly dawn.
Even in twilight hour the golden day doesn’t end,
for you’re my sanguine sun that would never set.
While the flowers wither in my autumn garden,
you suffuse the scent of blossoms for the spring,
when my yearning flitters like beguiled butterfly
at the still edge of hued horizon that never fades.
In the voyage on tempestuous sea of forlorn life,
I don’t lose course searching for shore of longing.
I shall reach its silver beach lapped by waves of joy,
for you’re my alluring pole star that never deviates.
In the desiccated desert over the dunes of despair
my parched heart never chases the mirage of fervor,
for my soul has found the fountain of lasting bliss
in the delightful oasis that you’ve become for me.
May 7, 2020
Contest : Regal Royal Relationships
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
I see a Santa Fe upon its rail;
It deviates not to the left nor right,
Nor hills, nor miles, nor weather can prevail
Upon its constant task come day or night.
I see a Christian running the long race
Who never shirks the hard work to be done,
In spite of tribulations she must face,
Blesséd is she to glorify God’s Son.
I see a faithful mother, wife, and daughter
Who brings to mind these Scriptures I now read:
“Go in my name and give cold cups of water,
Extending to the needy a kind deed.”
For one whose deeds upon good deeds get blurred
I think that ‘saint’ is not too high a word.
[In the U.S, 'Santa Fe' is a well-known railway. The words translate to 'holy faith']
Written in 2016
To relax your soul
Systematic systematic
Towards the road ahead
Rhythmatic Rhythmatic
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
She filters the ground
Pulsates pulsates
The combined realms
Deviates deviates
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Without a word she vomits
Congruous congruous
Tips her hat over
Sumptuous sumptuous
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
Harmonious crazy
Crazy
The fellowship of tires
Righteous righteous
Times alleviated system
Harmonious harmonious
Harmonious Crazy
Crazy
Harmonious Crazy
Crazy
To be without a standing
Lost upon a riotous landing
This world has gone crazy
Harmonious crazy!
Russell Sivey
To carry on the affection ,
Came by enemy's appreciation.
And deed to afford ,
To measure the ford.
Who take cleansing ablution of volley,
For making them holy.
Now making us delight ,
Who never get them in sight.
Now what? The life get commotion,
Getting always inanimation emotion.
Fantasy, fantasy deviates aisle in a day,
Still unacquainted! Whence elapse in a dark day.
I shiver in the mist created by the waves
Crashing on the rocks by the shore
The wind carries the water through the air
Into my pores,
creating those goose pimples
The light shining brightly envelopes me
I stand there in awe of its glory
The lighthouse beams with pride its strength
In its story,
lifting by the light simple
Even though storms come, raging in strong
Nothing seems to deter the lighthouse
It’s power still is within its light rotating
Just a douse,
of dominance never crimpled
Though we come and go--all around the bay
It never deviates from its strong post
Lifesaving light, which moves each night
Like most,
by this light emitting temple
Russell Sivey
Written on the:
(Biblical Calendar) 14th Day of the 7th Month, 5775
(Gregorian Calendar) 27th of September, 2015
The archway with candles lit around it
Illuminating it's hollow beyond the mass grave
Of fallen bodies of men, women and children
Who lie peacefully in prominence.
A widow sheds a tear,
Dressed in black
With a veil shadowing her face,
She weeps until her eyes bleed
And until the ground is soaked with her sorrows.
Dusk settles
The sun deviates it's reflection from the bodies of the fallen,
And once again the darkness reigns for twelve hours
Where evil revels it's deceitful intervention.
The moon is arrayed in it's light
But the dust and smoke of buildings bombed
And houses torched, engulfs the beauty of it's resurrection,
With the smell and taste of somberness and melancholy
Stained with the absence of death and vile.
Sociocultural
Evolution
- by Bob Atkinson
here in the here and
now
well beyond that
date in time
beyond beginnings so
far back
as to look like
stones defined
by their
stratification
layers of that dust
of life
which settles into a
black void
and shoves us out of
life
here with a fond
reflection
we see what we've
become
our narrow minded
creases
of satisfied results
but satisfaction
deviates
from norms we can
arrange
to send our children
to the future
an establishment
pre-arranged
take a minute to
evolve
into something more
advanced
don't see your
brother as the enemy
to be pierced
through with your
lance
We read the stories every day,
A child snatched by a stranger.
He’s taken from his loving home
Where there should be no danger.
The devastated parents beg
For him to be returned.
Heartless abductors do not care.
Their frantic pleas are spurned.
He has been loved and nourished
For the whole of his short days.
Far from loving arms that held him
With his innocence he pays.
A lucky few are found alive
But are forever changed.
His future has been colored
By the demonic or deranged.
If or when these deviates are caught,
They should not be freed again,
They should live their lifetime in a cage
And feel their victim’s pain.
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