Unwritten Sacred Secrets: IMprov Haiku

There’s secrets I’ll write

of willingly, and some too

sacred to reveal.

Filth Can’t Uplift Or Inspire: Haiku Lament

When I dive into/
filth, there’s nothing uplifting/
I can write about.

If I don’t put my/
soul where it can be inspired, /
how can I create?

Now I understand

How Jonah, pre-whale, felt: Told

to say, yet fearing.

My computer and

phone connect me, bind me, and

feed my dumb FOMO.

This gorgeous Fall morn

I, at breakfast, stared at my

phone*, not life. Why? Fail!

OR
*screen

The dark, little-used/
spot in the woods is perfect/
for rare medicine.

I sewed my ripped jeans./
Not the best patch job, but my/
underwear won’t show.

Meteor Watching,

I just saw clouds, Orion.

That’s more than enough.

If I sit and think,

is that working, even if /

it’s fun? I think so.