Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Poets! Our PUSHCART Prize nominees!... from print issue #162, Cathy Porter!, and, Judith Partin-Nielsen! from #163, r. soos! from #164, Peggy Dugan French! from #165, t. kilgore splake!, and, from #166, Patricia Carragon!...

   

 Assistant editors Frosty and Tama, "Our PUSHCART Prize nominees, Mister Editor!  We would have chosen 60 instead of 6, if we could have, yet! Special treats for everyone!"...

             PUSHCART Prize nominees:

poet Cathy Porter, Omaha, Nebraska...

                      Roses in the snow

                      Defy the calendar

                      Rebels with a cause


poet Judith Partin-Nielsen, Longmont, Colorado...

             The Hope of It

                   Where is the beauty, the Hope

                   in the horror it it, you ask.

                   Underneath a hard, bitter

                   casement of seed is there

                   an invisible bloom, a bud

                   not yet conceived --

                   a fragrance only in

                   the mind's eye

                   Are we the Hope of it?



         poet r. soos, Joshua Tree, California...

                                               thought

                             fragile cloud balanced
                                  precariously inside
                                 the dances I dream


      poet Peggy Dugan French, Cardiff, California...

                 Simple blue vase

                                The white flowers

                                        Quiet magic



   poet t. kilgore splake, Calumet, Michigan...

                   solving serious problems

                  wise men building bridges

                     foolish erecting walls



   poet Patricia Carragon, Brooklyn, New York...

                       faucet waterfall

                       thinking of cats and haiku

                       while brushing my teeth



                        see you in a moment...



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 darylayaz@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)










                        

Saturday, November 14, 2020

poets!... Wilda Morris, Shõichi Taneda, Carl Mayfield and Candice Kjobech, Mary O'Keefe Brady, Julie A. Dickson, Ed Markowski, t. kilgore splake, Robert Beveridge, and r. soos!...

 

Noble assistant editor Tama, mewing, insistently!... "Poetry, Mister Editor! Kitties, people, and! even the noisy dog next door, we all need poetry!  And then, treats!"
So true, noble assistant!  And! We'll begin
    with the poetry of Wilda Morris,                 from Bolingbrook, Illinois!...

           gander pecking
          on the glass door                      INSOMNIA
          no answer              
                                                     my brain refuses
          Bipsy leaps                               to log off
             to my shoulder  cat hair            for the night
                in the pudding


 poets Carl Mayfield and Candice Kjobech,                                                     of Rio Rancho, New Mexico!...

   11th Avenue in the Milky Way      
               Lightning and thunder, evening rain
               staying close to the mountains.

               last light lifts off the sage,          
               house settling into silence.

               No letter from home for years now,
               then remembering I am home.



       poet Julie A. Dickson, Exeter, New Hampshire...

A child of morning            Smudged clouds, crimson streaks
Living hours of a farmer      Sunset, finale, closure
Energized by light              I prefer sunrise

         poet Ed Markowski, Auburn Hills, Michigan...

Autumn magic                               a stray cat
  rising from a pile of orange leaves       it's tail curls into
          an orange cat                          a ?                                       
     
         poet tkilgore splake, Calumet, Michigan...

          climbing hills summit
           walking meditation         han shan's ghost
          peaceful solitary steps     broom sweeping up
                                           invisible haikus
                    late evening darkness
                  outside in my underwear
               watching stars falling to earth


             poet Robert Beveridge, Akron, Ohio...

    our friends are our friends         apple butter
    whether they walk on two legs      challah in the oven
    or they walk on four                 sundown approaches

             poet r. soos, Joshua Tree, California...      

                      see you in a moment...


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 darylayaz@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)









Sunday, October 25, 2020

poets!... t. kilgore splake, George Held, r soos, S. Liaqath Peeran, Cathy Porter, John McDonald, Judith Partin-Nielsen, and Mary Jo Balistreri!...

Assistant Editor Kitty Kali,
mewing insistently, "Poetry, Mister Editor!   We all need        
       our poems and poetry       
    on this cold winter day!"

Yes, noble assistant! And, we'll begin with this poetic blessing... a
      Cherokee blessing... 

              Cherokee Prayer Blessing


                    May the Warm Winds of Heaven

                    Blow softly upon your house.

                    May the Great Spirit

                    Bless all who enter there.

                    May your Mocassins

                    Make happy tracks

                    in many snows,

                    and may the Rainbow

                    Always touch your shoulder.


Yes, happy tracks in our falling snow! Snow that assists in subduing our wild and disheartening Colorado wildfires- yes, and, more poetry!...



poet tkilgore splake's latest published poetry collection,  CEMETARY DREAMS, from Transcendent Zero Press...


           trees                                 november


       roots in heaven                         late night shadows

     branches rising to sky                black rorschach silhouettes

     seeking to touch god                  breeze whispering not yet



                          dear mom

                      sorry not obeying

                      your do's and don'ts

                      son family black sheep

                      forever a rolling stone

                      lost in muddy waters

                      rambling guitar blues



poet George Held, New York, New York...


       Solitary
       Whoever truly creates is alone.
                     --Czeslaw Milosz

       Solitary refinement-
       province of poets and wiccans,
       for whom retreat
       into nature enables
       devine enchantment


                       A sioux child swaddled
                       on her mother's back
                       the snow falling

     poet r soos, Joshua Tree, California...

       poetry     

       if you listen close
       you will hear everybody
       talking in poetry                                         

                                                friend

                                 I picture your walk
                        in the silent desert dressed
                                  in burlap and stars

    poet S. liaqath Peeran, Bengaluru,      India...

      LONGINGS

      Whenever your thoughts possess me,

      I turn to your book of poems.

      Your love songs trouble my heart.

      An ache, a sigh, tears of blood.


      O! my beloved! Let my grief wash my sins. 

      Turn my black soul to lightning white.

      Can I be that wind to give you solace? 

      That light to illumine your path ways?


      Can I be that fragrance of a rose?

      Can I be that perfume of Arabia?

      O! beloved! Turn me into a nightingale. 

      Let me sing songs to delight you forever.


      This absence creates mirages and deliriums.

      Drives me to longings and desolate thoughts.




              poet Cathy Porter, Omaha, Nebraska...

     At night
     When stars go blue
     We skip rocks across the lake               At dawn
     Tell jokes to the fish                         Deer on the lookout
     Wait for a splash                              For treats
     Of laughter


poet John McDonald, Edinburgh, Scotland...     (http://zenspeug.blogspot.com)

oot frae the haar         lignin cantie-       sundoon    
...an into the haar         her braith            aye wairmth
hern snuves                on ma rig           in her rosary beads

out from the mist        lying contented     sundown    
...and into the mist       her breath            still warmth          
heron glides              on my back          in her rosary beads


one of
t. kilgore splake's 'poet trees', Calumet, Michigan 
    (bear creek haiku's, poems, and photos of Judith and I!)


     poet Judith Partin-Nielsen, Longmont, Colorado...

                       M edicine Buddhas


                       A rise in endless space as


                       N uminous


                       T ibet


                       R eturns


                       A lawys to the heart

                          home of her people



poet Mary Jo Balistreri, Waukesha, Wisconsin...

In the Labyrinth of Old Love
  with respect to Jim Zimmerman, The last Word 
 
You can be the sun's fierce fire
if I can be the rainbow that links both land and sea.

You can be the obsidian flit and frit of volcanoes
if I can be the sea glass held within a child's hand.

You can be the fall's harvest of leaves
if I can be the ashes piled against our roses.

You can be the river's constellation of stars
while I can be the swirling nebula.

You can be flame that tears its way through fields     if I can be the charred ghosts of old melodies.

The burning bush of Moses, you can be that too,
and I'll be embers that sustain our hearth.



    

see you in a moment...



  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 darylayaz@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)