poetry and poets... Pablo Neruda and t. kilgore splake, Steve Ausherman, Simone Wheeler, pl. wick, James B. Peters, Candi Cooper-Towler, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Rumi, and Hafiz, and Rex Sexton!!

Pablo Neruda...

"There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.  And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance..."

assistant editor Tama:  "Kitties purring, Frosty! You've chosen Pablo's Nobel Prize acceptance speech to begin our post..."

assistant editor Frosty: "We'll give extra treats to friend t. kilgore for sending it!"

"You know," replies Tama, "I'm

thinking t. kilgore splake has lots of kitty blood mewing through his poetry and perceptions from illustrious past lives..."

Frosty: "Poems from t. kilgore!":

t. kilgore splake

Calumet, Michigan

    brown pine cone needles

    poet returning to nature

      

      quiet moment alone

               pink lady slipper                 fledgling shadow

                thin green stem                    edge of nest

             nature's human heart            stretching soft feathers

                       books and workshops

                        full of knowledge

                      but best skills learned

                        doing it  yourself


Frosty: "Poems from Steve Ausherman!"

poet Steve Ausherman

      Albuquerque, New Mexico

    Bunny nibbling

    On new grass.              73 years.

    Morning dew.               Me bent low.

                                  Mountains remain

                                            The same.

             Corn wrapped in foil.

             Red coals crackle.

             Wind bucks the summer pines.

Tama:  "The poetry of Simone Wheeler, and pl. wick, and, James B. Peters! 

poet Simone Wheeler

      Idaho Springs, Colorado

eagerly  you pull me                                poet pl. wick

to your scented breath.                                   Empire, Colorado

down                          

upon cool cushioning                               fresh falling lace

  meadow grass                                      snow textures

down...
                                                        pure possibility
caring not    what                                     over gray reality
the modest moon will see

                   poet James Peters

                       Cottontown, Tennessee

     

                   THE ASPHALT MOCKINGBIRD

                   On the parking lot's

                   Acres of asphalt,

                   White striped

                   For driver's deference,

                   Randomly selected,

                   A mockingbird flits

                   From one shopping cart bay

                   To all the others,

                   Declaring this lot

                   His personal space.

                   Shoppers unaware

                   They are intruding.

          The young see               Couples

          Things bigger                Weave their lives

          Than they are                Together

          Ice cream cones             Its strength

          For example.                  In the maintenance.

and, here's Kitty Kali!: "Poems from local poet and friend Candi Cooper-Towler!" 

             poet Candi Cooper-Towler              

                   Longmont, Colorado

             first sign of fall
             horses coat's get soft
             as winter fur starts to grow


   at last a sunny weekend
   park full                                
   of left-behind baseballs                       on top of the mountain
                                                     the moon looks so big

Noble assistant editors, you bring joy to our posts, our homes... 
we have four more poets, our dear Judith, Rumi, Hafiz, and, Rex Sexton!

          poet Judith Partin-Nielsen         things unfold
                Longmont, Colorado              as they do     
                                                      and even in that
                                                      there is 
                                                      a special beauty



The individual who opened my own poetic instincts, and I sought a creative heart-name from Sufi teacher, and dear friend, Zubeida Krueger...  

                                     Rumi

Listen to presences inside poems,    
Let them take you where they will.        There are love dogs  
                                                no one knows the names of.
Follow these private hints,                  
And never leave the premises.              Give your life
                                                to be one of them.

                                                    

Frosty:  "And Hafiz!  Hafiz loves kitties!..."


            HAFIZ

      JUST AS I SUSPECTED

In a vision I heard this whispered:

Study those who sing the most, but are free
of criticism or praise.

Following this advice, things turned out
just as I suspected:

I started spending more time with kitties.


               THE ANOINTMENT

Dear ones, let's anoint this earth with dance.


and!               Rex Sexton

             There is a place and time
             where your hour is ready.
            It is your moment of truth,
        your enlightenment, your epiphany.


                    OUR LOVE

            A whisper in a shadow.
            A slow dance in the moon's
            glow.  Our silhouettes on a 
            white wall, like a cinematic
            shot captured in our love's 
            flow.



see you in a moment



ayaz daryl nielsen, Frosty, Tama, Kitty Kali!

and you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA   

                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayz@gmail.com (and/or)

                  darylayaz@me.com (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US,

                                    that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

poets Julie Spencer, Steve Ausherman, Peggy Dugan French's Happy Friday post with Robert Louis Stevenson, t. kilgore splake with Tom Clark, Stephanie Hiteshew, Karen O'Leary, BARAKAT Gallery, Martha Christina, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Jane Stuart, Roberta Beach Jacobson!

  poet Julie Spencer

Chowchilla, California

I glance at my own

Reflection, noting I am

Now a bold woman.

 poet Steve Ausherman

Albuquerque, New Mexico

     73 years.
     Me bent low.
     Mountains remain
              The same.

       Bunny nibbling
       On new grass.
       Morning dew.

from Peggy Dugan French, editor of SHEMON, and her blog,
Happy Friday!   http://peggyduganfrench.com/happy-friday-4/


          t. kilgore splake, Calumet Michigan, with this excerpt from
                              a poem by Tom Clark...

                        They should remember other poems.

                        At this moment the noisy city

                        has fallen quiet, and the edge

                        of the forest is abuzz with voices,

                        the voices of poems beneath the old trees

                        talking quietly about the poems that were

                        once here but are not here any longer,

                        remembering each other.

poet Stephanie Hiteshew           poet Karen O'Leary
      Columbia, Maryland                  West Fargo, North Dakota

Nights of Fire                          worn, wooden steps
                                             exactly ten steps
During a quiet night                        to grandma's embrace
she stares into the fire,
memories burning                                         the silence 
red and gold.                                            of a red horizon
                                                              love ignites

                    
    poet Martha Christina
          Bristol, Rhode Island

    THREE DAYS IN APRIL

    spring ephemerals
    washed away;
    crows strut
    through falling rain
    as if water were
    their element.


                   poet Judith Partin-Nielsen
                         Longmont, Colorado

                   Tibet is a Country
                   young monk's red
                   and saffron robes
                   dissolving into flame
                   the intersection of
                   faith, courage and despair


poet Jane Stuart
      Greenup, Kentucky

starlight chatters on the garden wall


                poet Roberta Beach Jacobson
                      Indianola, Iowa

                       tabby dressed in stripes of feline fluff

assistant editor Frosty:  "Maybe we shouldn't let Mister Editor
create posts without us, we need
much more about kitties..."

and, assistant editor Tama:  
"The next post will be all ours,
Frosty, and we'll do it when
Kitty Kali isn't cat-napping...!"




see you in a moment


ayaz daryl nielsen, Frosty, Tama, sleepy Kitty Kali!

and you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA   

                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayz@gmail.com (and/or)

                  darylayaz@me.com (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US,

                                    that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

poets Stephanie Hiteshew, Marcel Proust, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Steve Ausherman, Patti Smith, pl. wick, S. L. Peeran, Hafiz, Julie A. Dickson, Candi Cooper-Towler, Maya Angelou...

Insists assistant editor Tama, "We'll create our post and

see how folks react to it..."

"And kitties!," from

assistant editor Frosty:

"How kitties react to it!"

poet Stephanie Hiteshew

  Columbia, Maryland

Becoming

   Not just every

   cool evening

   do crisp edges

   hang in the balance

   still left to be.

       Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy, they are the
                        charming gardeners that make our souls blossom.
                                         Marcel Proust


                   
                      poet Judith Partin-Nielsen
                      Longmont, Colorado                                          

                   
                      So There                                              

                      Disgruntled cat
                      offended by
                      scolding
                      ambushes me later.


                poet Steve Ausherman
                Albuquerque, New Mexico

                           Bunny nibbling
                           On new grass
                           Morning dew.


     "Where does it all lead?  What will become of us?...    It all leads to each other.  We become ourselves."
                          Patti Smith

poet pl. wick
Empire, Colorado

Friday Arts District--
blocks of sidewalk festivities
pita breads - cane flutes
pottery - bbq - wind chimes
churros - drums - tacos
dream catchers - dulce
handbags & hats -  haaats...

enticing aroma
ooohhh-my
Mexican-Greek-sushi fusion
from a vendor cart  beneath
a simmering August sun...

that annoying little voice
chiming - you're
   not really...


                       poem/haiga S. L. Peeran   Bangalore, India

       Hafiz
Just As I Suspected

In a vision I heard this clearly whispered:

Study those who sing the most, but are free 
of criticism or praise.

Following that advice, things turned out
just as I suspected:

I started spending more time with birds.
(and kitties.)                                                      
             
(I added that, whispers                              

            assistant editor Kitty Kali)


poet Julie A. Dickson
 Exeter, New Hampshire

           Grove of deep green pines
           Set against a clearing,
           Tree frog serenade.


poet Candi Cooper-Towler
     longmont, Colorado

   walking home

   weaving through the neighborhood

   searching for shade

           first sign of fall

           horse's coats get soft

           as winter fur starts to grow

                             Maya Angelou

                                 Lift up your eyes  

                                 Upon this day breaking for you.

                                 Give birth again

                                 to the dream.

see you in a moment

                                                 

ayaz daryl nielsen  

(and Frosty!   and Tama!
and Kitty Kali!) 

and you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA  
                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayz@gmail.com (and/or)
                  darylayaz@me.com (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US,
                                    that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

assistant editors Tama and Frosty: their issue (#146) ably aided by Kitty Kali and other feisty neighborhood feline friends (including Charles Bukowski)...

   between Joshua trees

   and Bristlecone pine                           neighbor at our window

   all of us kitties

   as one 

                             to fit a need

                             between yes and no

                             the just-right meow

              ‘time to be quiet‘ 

              said to myself 

              as zazen begins

              a nearby kitty's

              whispery purring

                              Eddie Lee’s 

                              graveside service

                              six pall-bearers

                              an x-wife

                              and the kitty’s 

                              broken heart

assistant poetry editor Kitty Kali

                    support group
           favorite shirt
           comfortable shoes
           her hand in mine
           kitty in lap                                                 

            

        grandfather’s homestead

             the old barn cat

               remembers us

      

                                dance and purr

                                grandparents are dancing                    

                                cousins are dancing

                                horses are prancing

                                dogs are barking

                                kids are laughing

                                kitties are purring

                                you and I finish 

                                some necessary

                                bickering, and!

                                we’re purring, too!

assistant editor Frosty, asking,
"Tama, how do you think we 
should end our post?"

Assistant editor Tama's reply,
"Let's just ask a kitty neighbor!"

"It's been hot lately, many wild fires
and such, and it's hot outside right now...
hmmm... let's turn to
one of our most favorite poets-
Charles Bukowski!
And ask him about
all this heat and
how we should
end this post!"


"Well," Mr. Bukowski replies,
"It's 1:58am and I am sleepy...
and, I think that the
world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just
cats and
rain, rain and cats, very nice, good
night."



So!  A warm and wet good night from us...

Tama, Frosty, Kitty Kali, all our feisty feline neighbors, and, Charles Bukowski...

                        

your poetry can be mailed to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA    
                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayz@me.com (and/or)
                  darylayaz@gmail.com (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US, 

       that's ok, too (again, include postal address)




see you in a moment



ayaz daryl nielsen