Twitter Haiku 6

Rain taps secret messages on my window

whilst I roll tightly into warm clouds

and drift back into slumber.

"Don't forget me" she taps.

(@HeardinLondon)

She will remember your heart

when men are fairy tales

in storybooks written by rabbits.

(Internet sig)

My gods are older than yours

and have more tentacles.

(Internet sig)

Let God envelop you

like the winter fog.

Rest awhile.

‏(@RevJodyStowell)

The sun went down in Barrow in mid November.

It will rise again in mid January.

I am headed towards Anchorage.

(northierthanthou.com/‏@Brimshack)

Those coiffured, polo-necked

belle-époque grandes dames

you see sat alone on the train.

(@DerrenBrown)

True sadness is not romantic.

It is a stab in the dark

with a rusty pair of scissors.

(Bek Hobbes/‏@Greebobek)

Attendre le bus

sur le plateau de Saclay,

une autre idée

de l'infini.

(Marie-Lan Taÿ Pamart)

A fire round the ocean;

the sun flaring into the night;

glaciers fluorescing.

(13th century explanations for the Northern Lights from Sumit Paul-Choudhary)

The trains are howling today.

Exultant on the rainy tracks.

Perhaps they're singing.

(Paul Western-Pittard ‏@Cerullean)

There's a soft rain about today.

Grey and blue like a calm blanket.

The world seems to be whispering.

(Paul Western-Pittard ‏@Cerullean)

The PinkCloud is rolling in, damp and strange.

It makes things clearer but pushes them very, very far away.

I'm a radar touching misty distances.

(Adam Nathaniel Furman)

Ich liebe Zugfahren im Regen.

Wo fährst du hin, viel spass?

(Regine Wosnitza and Angelika Schau)

Does anyone know what the rooms

behind the perforate brick are?

And do they get light

from within the plan?

(@elliswoodman)

Now Hanworth Park House

sits abandoned & rotting,

the trees completely surrounding it

and completely overgrown.

(@River_Crane)

Is a bronze lion a type of lion?

Where is a rainbow?

Does the future exist?

Is the Queen the owner of your bedroom?

Does an inscription too worn to be read consist of words?

(Roger Keeling)

A light mist on the horizon

blurs the division

between heaven and earth.

(Suzanne Hardy ‏@glittrgirl)

After the rain,

eucalyptus in neighbours’ gardens

smells like the Blue Mountains.

(Karen Wilde ‏@wildelycreative)

A massive, hot star

burns fast

and a low mass, cool star

burns slow.

(Uni of Oregon)

Savvino-Storozhevsky:

This bell was broken in 1941;

Its fragments are in Zvenigorod.

(russianbells.com)

Pink jeans, baby voice:

Two things I find sinister

On a grown woman

(@saspetherick)

8.15am.

Peterborough train station.

At the Pumpkin Café

a man plays the Deal Or No Deal fruit machine.

"Live the dream!" the machine says...

(Kit Lovelace ‏@mylifeyourhands)

To an Atheist

You are an indoctrinated minion,

void of logic,

slave to a myth.

(@ErrolSmythe777)

Oh. Is this how it begins?

A little irregularity.

A small shadow.

A tiny lump.

And then all that follows,

the quadruple bypass

or the collapse on the escalator

at Warren Street?

(David Aaronovitch)

Once again

the person behind me at Tesco

stands up the fallen divider.

(@adamcreen)

Once again in awe

of the cosmic light trick

that takes place on August 31.

The sunlight is suddenly watery.

(Hamish Thompson ‏@Suburbman)

The Spotify Playlist

Think of it as a hand written C90

pressed into your hand,

a grainy picture of a bedsit window

pasted to the cover.

(@MarkOneinFour)

I went to IKEA for blinds,

bathroom rugs and office chairs,

and came back with plant pots,

chopping boards and clothes pegs.

(Ben Mægenmund ‏@BennyBrick)

I did not steal my plums

from the icebox. They were mine,

and they were room temperature.

(John Scalzi ‏@scalzi)

This is just to say,

I have thrown out the crossword

in Saturday’s Guardian Review.

I need to look in the dustbin,

But it’s dark.

(Em)

More here, and links to the rest.