Poets!... Dennis Rhodes, Rumi, Thomas Merton, t. kilgore splake, Greer Woodward, Judith Partin-Nielsen, James Babbs, Linda Fuchs, Peggy Dugan French/Dali Lama, toma rosen, John McDonald!

                               

  poet Dennis Rhodes,

                           Naples, Florida...

        Rosa Parks                                          

        Quiet warrior

        showed us the back of the bus

        is for nobody.

    John Lewis

    Marched across a bridge--

    the right place at the right time--

    into history.

        poet Rumi...

           Love is the bridge between you

           and everything.

                   poet Thomas Merton...

                        Every moment and every event of

                        every person's life on earth makes an

                        impression in their soul.

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

solving serious problems                alone on pine stump

 wise men build bridges               eyes completely closed

  foolish erecting walls               becoming part of nature

            reading poems to campfire             early sunday service

             emotions rising in smoke            beside brautigan creek

                to places never been             listening to water's prayers

                         

noble assistant editor Frosty: "Extra treats for Greer Woodward!

                                                          and for our Judith!"

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

           Winter Woman

           skin of golden ash

           mystery of face

           abstracted in beauty

           loosened chignon of promise

           graceful ellipses of waist, widening to

           hips opening like

           the mouth of a river

           giving birth to the world

     poet James Babbs,                        poet Linda Fuchs, 

     Stanford, Illinois...                            Grove City, Ohio...

     missing her                                 white water surging    

     raindrops make                            over horseshoe shelf

     strange patterns                                  rainbows in the mist

     on the window    

                                                                                                    pink mist floats           

                                                  rolling river roars

       casting shadows                                  kayaks must wait

       the names of the dead

       written on the stones                   serene water

                                                   undisturbed by humankind

                                                            may I go to sea?


                        Peggy Dugan French, a Friday Poem...

poet toma rosen, 
Mt. Baldy Zen Center, California...                 poet John McDonald,
                                                         Edinburgh, Scotland...   
clear turquoise  the river      
that carries me on                                     quat
around the next bend to                               i the yalla gowans
my final destination--                                 an eenin's lowe
where anvil clouds build
beyond the canyon's                                    left
Bierstadt sandstone walls                             in the buttercups
to rest on shimm'ring                                  an evening's glow
   western waters...

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)

Poets!... Sari Grandstaff, Hilma Erickson, t. kilgore splake, John McDonald, P C K Prem, David Oates, Boyd Bauman, Tomas Tranströmer, Cathy Porter, Don Wentworth, Angelee and ayaz, S L Peeran, Teresinka Pereira, Dennis Rhodes...

                                    

    Noble assistant editor's Frosty and Tama, mewing, "Poetry, Mister Editor!  Kitties and people         need their poetry now, Mister Editor!". . .! 

    poet Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, New York...

    entering the room

    flicker of recognition      flickering porch light
    the moth or the flame?     disco dancing moth
                                    just stayin' alive            

                         at the funeral
                         mom's rainbow pasta salad
                         brings us together


             poet (and my great-aunt) Hilma Erickson, dated 1900... 

                                   
                           Summer is here and Autumn is near.
                            What a beautiful time of the year.
                                 The flowers are lovely,
                                 and the birds are here.

                                 A lady bug came along,
                                     as cute as can be.
                                Invited her lady friends
                                 in for an afternoon tea.

                                   A grasshopper came,
                                   he was a little lame.
                                 And the cricket brought
                                     his favorite game.

                                    The whippoorwill 
                                     was a little late,
                                  and he sat and sang 
                                   on the garden gate.

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

    wilderness poem

quiet words whispering         melting spring snow

  softly through pines          stream waters  rising

                                   carrying new dreams


    poet John McDonald, Edinburgh, Scotland... 

   brennin leaves -           
   reek hoves                     burning leaves -
   claps tae the brainches       smoke rises
                                    clings to the branches

oot frae the haar
...an intae the haar            out from the mist
hern snuves                    ...and into the mist
                                  heron glides


      poet P C K Prem, Himachal Pradesh, India... 

Grimy rain in a tributary
     
        continues

          to roar and cuddle

dew drops. 
          
                                He paints splashes

                    on face    fuzzy and wrinkly,

                                                     rainbows lit up.

   

poet Boyd Bauman, Overland Park, Kansas...  

 
        From the Furrows                       Luck

        After the tractors,                       Green clover I pick
        frogs from rice paddy furrows       displays three petals proudly
        manufacture joy.                        Still my lucky day.

                   poet Tomas Tranströmer...

        Midnight Turning Point

        The wood ant watches silently, looks into
        nothing.  And nothing's heard but drips from dim
        leafage and the night's murmuring deep in
                         summer's canyon.

        The spruce stands like the hand of a clock,
        spiked.  The ant glows in the hill's shadow.
        Bird cry!  And at last.  The cloud-packs slowly
                          begin to roll.


               poet Cathy Porter, Omaha, Nebraska...

     A warm breeze
     Through the window             the tree on our car
     Makes the bills                   a nudge towards liquor
     Disappear                         or prayer
                                         maybe both

           One rose
           On the hood of the car             The caterpillar
           Thorns missing                      On the sidewalk
           But felt                               In no hurry
                                                   Despite the rain

     poet Don Wentworth, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...

      hanging low          
      so beautiful                       hiding in everything plain sight
       the willow                      
        rhyming              
        with the                   the big picture --            
         stream                   sunset, butterfly


                      Angelee Deodhar, and, ayaz daryl nielsen...

poet S L Peeran, Bengaluru, India...

    New found peace

    The famed astro-prediction 

    Of WW-3 turned out

    To be Covid virus-19

    For universal lock down.

    For deep introspection 

    To clean the environment 

    To unite the world

    For regeneration 

    For re-evaluation 

    To charter a new course

    To open new chapters 

    In the destiny of Nations.

   poet Teresinka Pereira,

                Ottawa Hills, Ohio...

PREPARATION

Where is love

when there is so much solitude 

in the way?

Where is the sun

when the night is arriving early

during the morning's seeding?

Where is the smile

when poetry becomes harsh,

listening to hatred, at the eve

of this underserving war?

                      poet Dennis Rhodes, Naples, Florida...

                      Craft   Honesty   Tenacity:

                      those are what makes this writer tick.

                                 Life is hardball.  Go

                                 out and strive for the singles.

                                 The home runs will come.

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)

poets! Robert Hirschfeld, William Wordsworth, Dennis Rhodes, Angelee Deodhar, t kilgore splake, Peggy Dugan French, John McDonald, Patricia Carragon, Charles Bukowski, Judith Partin-Nielsen, r soos, and, Tomas Tranströmer...

   poet

               Daughter

                 for Maura

                 Your small hand

                  in my hand

                  keeps looking for my hand

            

             poet William Wordsworth...

    a grandeur in the beating of the heart...

                     the types of symbols of eternity...

     poet Dennis Rhodes, Naples, Florida...

Got the Covid blues           Bunny sits so still

haven't hugged anybody    it becomes a monument

for a century.                   to nature, and self.

                   Epigram for Lucy

     She had the scars to prove that she had loved.

     She had the sense to hide them well away.

     She died with nearly nothing left to prove

     and more important, nothing left to say.

            poet Angelee Deodhar...

     old bird bath

     now full of ivy            baby squirrels

     the bird song missed     foun

                                  in the missing socks

                  sudden blackout

                  so many fireflies

                  in the garden

            Kitty Kali... "we loves you, Angelee..."

    poet t kilgore splake, Calumet, Michigan...

wilderness silence
like empty church               zen wisdom
deep holy feeling          thinking and feeling
                              becoming heart mind
warm floating embryo
infant's unborn dreams     wilderness education
life waiting to fly           learning language of
                             animals  birds  butterflies

           from poet/editor

                      poet

         cluds stourin -     clouds racing -
         the auld collie     the old sheepdog    
         bowfin               barking

                            aises                          ashes
                            on ma broo                  on my forehead
                            the priest's snell thoum     the priest's cold thumb

                                       

   noble assistant editor Tama, mewing sweetly,
"Kitties, Mister Editor!  We need more kitty poems!        Include favorite poet 'That Brooklyn Girl!"...

yes!  poet

eyes of the cat witch
hypnotize her devotees           at midnight
cuteness wins more treats       feline karaoke
                                     gets hotter
  Kerouac kitty
  poems unravel        (for Tama)
  like toilet paper      the goddess meows
                                   Kishigawa's good fortune
                                           calico's blessing

                           poet

a reader                                                 a sensible fellow

my cat shit in my archives                             when I fart                 
he climbed into my
orange box                                               could care less
and he shit on my poems
saved for the university archives.

that one-eared fat black critic         I don't like poetry as a command, 
he signed me off.                         a search.  it must come to you,
                                             like a hungry cat at the door.


poet

   things unfold                what is the cost

   as they do                    of this lost land

   and even in that             more than blood,

   there is                        history or beauty

   a special beauty              or anyone's broken

                                           heart

          poet 

living

fallen music swells

on the dance floor of my dreams

I smile and sing loud

                             during the music

                       I breathe between thoughts

                     invest them deep in my blood

                             exhale their spirit

poems

are the clay and paint

which shape the music of mind

on language canvas

                                                  poetry

                                    if you listen close

                             you will hear everybody

                                      talking in haiku

                        poet tomas tranströmer...

   Encroaching shadows. . .

   We are astray in the woods        Something has happened.

   in the mushroom clan.             The moon filled the room with light.

                                           God knew about it.

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)