Coffee shop artist
Crumples paper; leaves behind
Flees in silent tears
Saddened, I approach
Discarded imaginings
Reverently unfold
Passion leaps from pages
Wondrous magic, graphite made
Breathing, whole, alive
Creased images tell
Story of self-belief crushed
Beneath critic’s lies
On park bench I find
Artist, eyes fixed on nothing
Hope’s flame extinguished
I sit, hold out match
“These are extraordinary”
Eyes spark; fire ignites
This is another set of haiku I wrote in response to a one word prompt on Threads. The word was reanimation. I decided to take it in a slightly different direction than one might expect. Instead of coming back from literal death, I chose to bring an artist back from creative death, caused by a crushed spirit.
Does this story speak to you in any way? Do you enjoy stories told in verse? I love the interactivity between the stanzas and the images. Leave a comment below!
I loved these, they really do capture an artist’s crushed spirit. I liked all the images; the first one though, that one touched me deeply. Thanks Dascha
I like the first coffee shop room. The unadorned, plain clothes had a sexiness to them, and although I was sad and tired, I also smelled happy. The castle 🏰 is inside a circle. I want to display it on the wall. It's just my personal selfishness, but I want to feel like the future is vast and endless when it's depicted all over the world. I don't have anything to say, so please excuse me.