Category Archives: Not that Kind of Poetry

#NationalHaikuPoetryDay Also


Truly, I don’t think

We are ever completely

Certainly, ready


By Daphne Shadows

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#NationalHaikuPoetryDay Again

This one, I can’t figure out what end line I prefer.

What do you think?


Sometimes you have to

Sing, read the letter, carry on

Can you feel your voice?


Sometimes you have to

Sing, read the letter, carry on

Does your voice tremble?


By Daphne Shadows

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Happy National Haiku Poetry Day!

I swear there are fifteen different national holidays every single day. I’m on the fence about this. When every day is multiple National holidays, it kind of feels like it never really is a holiday. BUT, on the other hand, there’s the rare national holiday that I totally feel like celebrating (and, you know, happen to hear about in the first place). So I do like it. It allows us to each pick the ones we like and have fun with those.

I’m a conflicted individual.


This holiday is always on April 17th.

A haiku is a form of Japanese poetry.

It’s typically non rhyming and uses the elements of nature, language that captures emotions or memories, and/or beauty. Its flowing and very much poetic. It’s made of three lines. Each line has a specific amount of syllables. 5, 7, 5.


I had no clue this holiday existed.

Funny enough, last night I thought of a haiku before falling asleep.


It was the first time

Wind wiped it away again

It’s not the first try


By Daphne Shadows


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I am feeling quiet inside today.

As if a peacefulness has unrolled its yoga mat inside me and got to work.

It’s a calmness.

A beauty.


It allows me to remember all the sweetness, while acknowledging the scars.

Remember, just because there is darkness inside of you, doesn’t mean that darkness is all you have to offer to the world.

Darkness can teach us.

We grow stronger.


Scars are a sign of strength.

Darkness is a way for us to strengthen.

Aren’t scars kind of beautiful?


There’s also a pain inside my chest.

It keeps speaking up.

I’m okay with it.

The pain isn’t all there is, inside me.


By Daphne Shadows


Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry

When I Leak

Does it matter? The endless mind numbing chatter. The inner dialogue running until you’re frozen.

I’m slowly falling apart. From the inside out.

Pieces are falling off.

I’m a shambling, bleeding mess. Shuffling towards something I don’t know.

Am I wrong, for trying to feel?

The blood just pours.

Am I wrong for wanting truth, for wanting the genuine article?

I want to let go of the pain. But it follows. Stalking me from the gallows.


There’s so much beauty. But I’m drowning in terror, in black claws, perforating my lungs, my tears, my voice, only a hair’s breadth away.

And I am lost while I am falling and fighting and drowning.

I’ll make more of it than it really is. Then I’ll strip it away. The glass won’t break but the plastic is molding.

Is it funny? That I’m screaming as its burning. Yet I won’t step back from the fire.

It’s good for me, I sob.



Who am I?

Sticky notes I can’t find. Pens keep running out of ink. Letters crumpled in the corner.

The advantage is soaking.

The sorrow tastes like sweet beauty. Something I can embrace.

Is it okay to be like this?

Yes! I finally scream, voice breaking, the emptiness staring me mute.


The dust hid it. I lost the broom.

Can I just keep the delusion?

And it swells until it destroys the whole point.

The whispers can’t hear me. They keep creeping past, leaving the candles lit.

I know its new. But I can’t find the ticket. And the roof fell in.

Its waiting in the box but I can’t seem to take it out, to save myself.

Nothing sturdy. I can’t put life here. It’ll shatter.


Sometimes the best thing to do is let go, come back tomorrow, and try again.

The spine is well worn. The pages are empty.

Can I, please?

Just take my time.

I won’t stay if this keeps up. I’ve only got so much pulse.

It’s not really numbing. You’ll regret that.

And I’m so tired. Its worn me down.

The tendrils slip right in and rip it all out.

I’m finding part of me in this divide.


Beneath the glitter

Beneath the paint

I found the sinner

I found the saint.


I found your soul

I spat it out

It fixed my faith

It fixed my doubt.


I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long. Sometimes the flame doesn’t realize the heat’s gone.


I ran

I crawled

I found the door

I can’t stay here, anymore.


It took my present

It took my past

I took a breath

It took my last.


You’re not lucky

I find it best

To remember the truth

I’m here, I’m blessed.


Correct me if I’m wrong

You’ll correct me if I’m right

I’m really very tired

Of circling this same old fight.


I’d like to pause with a smile. But I find I’m merely content.



By Daphne Shadows


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Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry, Stream of Consciousness

I Digress

If it won’t be easy,

I have to ask –

Will it be so trying

That by the end,

My soul is dying?


Sometimes, I think,

The harder thing to do,

Is what turns out

Being, in the end,

Exactly right for you.



By Daphne Shadows

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Maybe you’re supposed to feel numb at some point
And as the dust settles
The true form shows
Nothing is what you had thought it to be

by Daphne Shadows


Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry