A single stark sin
in the soil,
A white rose
rests in rain.
Cold face in the
day,
A shine on the
shallow shore.
2nd PLACEMENT : Haiku Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin : June 26
____________________________
solitaire eagle
hover to conclusive claw
rainbow trout jumping —
flawless in stillness
wings glide beak rend talons tear
colossus i fly —
_____________________
What happens, whilst of that fear-rush
Face-blown, if fleetingly, when this
Front door opens?
The mind broadens!
Whose threshold's gain I too weighed.
Inner, outer, secure, insecure
Where, that distant
Worlds meet; two. Pant.
grief, a solitary room
walls drawn in close against self—
dim quiet withheld
each breath sounding too loudly
in hollow hush of absence
the room starts to stretch
doorways open still unseen—
corridors seep loss
footsteps outside stroll beside
the room with sole grief inside
outside, the landscape
widens under muted skies
others move through it
their shadows criss-cross the line
collecting recognition
air thickens when shared
to drift and carry between
each fragile meeting—
to the weather we move in
slowly, learning how to breathe
what felt set apart
softens within the landscape
drifting through thin walls
silence now inhabited
by more than one heart beating
Sometimes with some people being solitary is the best behave.
A solitary soul, I waste my life.
Depressed, and bitter, I rage in this line
and rhyme's unquiet measure—O, my strife!
like steak knives that carve up a dead bovine,
why sacrifice my lunatic, crazed soul!?
Why crucify, why vilify, my name?
To be a loathsome bug trapped in a bowl,
is untold disgrace and great, endless shame.
But still, I persevere another day;
and seek comfort in scribbled, rhythmic words,
that ring like cathedral bells on Sunday,
before the pious assemble in herds.
Though in church no more where sinners are, alone
I worship God with hymns of better tone.
solitary stroll
in the gathering twilight...
I have company
with all the birds and the trees
and hear music in the wind
1.
So I set out upon the roads
that wind through your forests and fields—
the old pilgrimage paths
where saints once sought solace.
I walk not with anger
but with a heart made tender
by longing.
2.
At Studenice, I touch the stones
that heard the hymns of women
who consecrated their lives
to silence and compassion.
At Brezje, I kneel beneath Our Lady’s gaze,
feeling her mantle stretch
over plains and mountains alike.
At Sveta Gora, the wind tells stories
older than our language.
3.
Along this road,
I see signs of hidden fidelity.
An old man tracing a cross
before lifting bread to his lips.
A young mother whispers a prayer
while her child sleeps.
A solitary bell that rings each dusk
even when no one gathers.
4.
And the Lord speaks through them all:
“My child, faith is not dead.
It sleeps in the embers
beneath the ashes of fear.
Blow gently, and it shall burn again.”
5.
So I continue my journey,
carrying a lantern of hope
into the deepening night.
Pilgrimage is not an escape
but a return—
a slow reclaiming of the soul
of the land I love.
Unlisted number flying under radar
keeping low profile to avoid undue attention
~ wallflower melts into the background
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
SOLITARY RUN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That morning, I set out for a solitary run noticing the clear blue sky with only a few wispy clouds floating by. The grass stood silent, the multi-colored leaves barely moving, looking as if they had been painted there. A faint touch upon my skin made me wonder, ‘Should a person be able to feel the beating of the birds’ wings?’ Time stopped, stretching endlessly in the quiet stillness.
silent, empty space
thoughts like seeds begin to sprout.
a voiceless whisper
births words upon the still air~
creativity takes flight
J-ust
O-ne
A-nd
N-o
S-ubstitute
A-fter
L-etters
U-tilize
N-ame's
D-irection
A-s
G-uide
U-sed
I-n
T-hinking
©bfa042625
Monocrostic (Birthday of Joan Salundaguit)
Hermit
self-assured
solitary soul
longing eyes
staring far
peering down his inner self
forgetting himself.
SILENT HOMES
Silence
cloak of protection
worn longing for
heaven
sways in dust
settles
wistful
plays hide
then seek
walks valleys of unknowingness
and solitary alleys
naked wounds
shatter silence
of wounded birds
peeping through
torn curtains
hiding under unlaundered
sheets
those that witnessed
boiling water
screams
the terror of
war
in silent
homes
Silence writes
letters
to itself
never posts
them
they become
tears soaking
floral pillow
Silence goes to work
next day
Nothing
happened
Just a mouldy sandwich
in
her desk
drawer
Man is not a solitary note; he is a symphony of deep contradictions,
A song of sins and sorrows, composed of desires and broken dreams,
I've seen hands that caressed loved faces, clenching into foreign fists,
Lips that spoke sweet words, twisting into cruel smiles, venom flowing.
We kiss with mouths that have cursed, embrace with arms that have borne violence,
We call ourselves good only in the moments we choose to keep in memory,
Do our sins disappear when not looked at, or do they sleep beneath the skin,
Waiting to be awakened by the light of an ill-fitting moon, shadows seeking their place?
Man sings a song of the world and shadow, a harmony of desires and regrets,
A dreamer caught between stars and mud, creator of dreams and destroyer of hopes,
Between darkness and light, he sings his symphony with notes of love and echoes of pain,
And when night falls, he hides in shadow the contradictions that make him more than a note.
Like unwilling alchemy,
A forceful transmutation,
Tragedy to sanity -
Through sudden abnegation.
With fluid emotions -
The mixing of potions -
Alchemical abjuration.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.