Thursday, December 27, 2012

The Heart Dance a poem for you

The Heart Dance    a poem for you                                     ayaz daryl nielsen

The Heart Dance

Open your heart
   inside may be a sigh,
   a stone, a river,
   a golden throne
   or a sliver of ice
Come, open your heart!

Open your heart
   inside may be a stumble,
   a dance, grandmother’s lost 
   eyelash, or even
   empty yearning
Come, open your heart!

Open your heart
   inside, a drinking song,
   an immortal’s kiss, or even
   ink dark loneliness
Come, open your heart!

Come with your open heart
   we’ll whirl and zumba
   the dance of a found
   eyelash, of an immortal’s
   kiss, of an ice sliver
   melting, melting, melting

Come, heart of 
   all hearts

Come, beloved
   and dance.

- see you in a moment -

ayaz daryl nielsen

bear creek haiku - poems from the tail end - George Held, Bobbi Dykema Katsanis, Carl Mayfield, Dorothy McLaughlin, Denver Stull, Eva Alexander, Don Wentworth, Kelley Jean White, Noel Sloboda and Robert D O’Rourke

bear creek haiku - poems from the tail end -

George Held, Bobbi Dykema Katsanis, Carl Mayfield, Dorothy McLaughlin, Denver Stull, Eva Alexander, Don Wentworth, Kelley Jean White, Noel Sloboda and Robert D O’Rourke  

When I begin a new issue of bear creek haiku (111 so far), I first seek two poems, one for the cover and one for the last page (or, tail end) of that issue - and, these two poems become the, umm - inspiration?  guardians?  register?  psychoanalysts?  (Judith Partin-Nielsen, my wife, is a psychoanalyst/poet) or, maybe the medical staff, including nurses?  (among other ‘stuffs’, most of which are printable/repeatable, am a nurse)  yes! the poems on front and back end are all of these plus much more for the poems between them!  Three earlier posts presented poems from the cover, and it’s about time you and I revel in what’s on the back side of bear creek haiku!
  • we begin at the end! -

evening peace vigil    Dorothy McLaughlin
  candle flames flicker
    touched by our prayers

the vicars of St. Petersburg    Bobbi Dykema Katsanis

                                                      I met three cats in Petersburg:
                                             the literary, postal and religious.
                                             I danced with one cat in the snow,
                                             At dusk, outside the Fountain House,
                                             Where Akhmatova’s ghost is kept alive.
                                             Another got his noggin scratched.  He sat
                                             Upon the wood post office counter,
                                             Quite content.  A third,
                                             The sole parishioner (or priest?)
                                             Of Saints Peter and Paul Cathedral,
                                             Blessed me briefly, and moved on.

(wow - I am realizing the two above are among my most favorite poems bear creek haiku has had the honor of publishing)

Return to Sender    Don Wentworth

  This is the postcard
  you sent to remind yourself
  that you have 

  Wake up.

  It’s sooner
  than you

Petroleum Blues    George Held

We got Oil in the marshes
We got Oil in the tide pools

We got Oil in the crawdads
We got Oil on the beaches

We got Oil in our future
A-throttlin’ Mother Nature

We got them ol’ Petroleum --
I said -- them ol’ Petroleum Blues

Monday morning--    Denver Stull
listening for the rooster
eaten yesterday

Moon #2    Carl Mayfield

That big white moon
So surprised

At the way things
have turned out

Blank Look #573    Carl again

                                    a ghost song
                              trips over the mountain
                              at sunrise

                              the invisible starts to get dressed
                              first in a yellow sock
                              then in the key of G

memory of you    Noel Sloboda
strutting in heels
across decades


spring frogs...    Eva Alexander

and your song too

has a note of sadness

hours on the road    Kelly Jean White  MD
laughter,  lights in the kitchen
smell of fresh baked bread

and, Robert D O’Rourke! - you need to know about Robert (Bob) because if hearts needed more warmth or my desire to continue with bear creek haiku more testosterone, he is the ‘most main dude’ (and, ok, yes!!  I need to share with you other ‘main dudes and dudettes’ in future posts!)  Bob (his age somewhere around 90) three years ago mailed bch his first attempts at poetry and pencil drawings, many of which have been/will be on the cover and the tail end of bch  (his drawing of the contented bear sitting beside bear creek and of a bear’s paw print have been in many recent issues).  He stated that the first bch acceptance of his poetic endeavors was not only a first attempt, both at writing poetry and at having his creations published, but was also incentive for ‘sticking with it’:  he now teaches ‘haiku as a meditative practice’ in Fort Collins, Colorado, especially at the Senior Center - Bob states, ‘I also am a daily meditator attempting to be awake, living moment-to-moment, compassionate along my journey’ - and he has, for 40 years, been a wood carver of Santos:  ‘noun ( pl. santos ) in Mexico and Spanish-speaking areas of the southwestern US, a religious symbol, esp. a wooden representation of a saint’ - (thank you, computer dictionary) (and the Longmont Public Library for, among many things, your free wifi) (and Perky’s coffee shop on Main and the Mister Bean coffee shop on Hover for allowing my swilling of unprecedented amounts of fine caffeinated brews and for extensive use - abuse? naw - of free wifi) 

  • Bob often uses the pseudonym Lone Crow with his published poetry, but he doesn’t use a computer, so I will let this little secret out, but don’t you tell him! -

bear creek haiku    Lone Crow

well, it’s impossible to convey the quality of Bob’s (I mean, Lone Crow’s) poetry without 
his pencil sketches, but I don’t know how to do that (yet) on a computer, so, anyway, here’s two more from Lone Crow -

breathing deeply
   i fill my soul
      with Autumn

   the muses
      are silent
a flower blooms


Dwarfed by success
the ant drags
the cricket

  • ok, it was three more -

wherever/whoever you be, you be well!  mixed with some joy!  and create, create!
(somebody stop me) -

thanks, Frosty - (cat needs a belly rub) -

see you in a moment -

ayaz daryl nielsen

evening peace vigil    Dorothy McLaughlin
  candle flames flicker
    touched by our prayers



Wednesday, December 26, 2012

eleven things about wet noodles that everyone should know:

eleven things about wet noodles that everyone should know:

    - a six-year-old nicknamed Chuck-a-muck often drapes wet noodles over his ears
                        (when his mother isn’t looking)

    - Chuck-a-muck’s sister Maria doesn’t drape wet noodles over her ears 

    - Thor didn’t eat wet noodles as a kid (Odin and Elvis did and still do)

    - every wet noodle is first cousin to all other wet noodles

    - wet noodles give boa hugs

    - dry noodles sometimes hesitate before accepting boa hugs from wet noodles (but 
      never regret it afterwards)

    - unintentionally stepping barefoot on a wet noodle means good luck

    - unintentionally stepping barefoot on several wet noodles means a gooey foot  
      (but in a between-the-toes goody sort of gooeyness) 

    - wet noodles are allies of wet beeps, drippy faucets and poets with writer’s bloc

    - wet noodles - so cool when hot! 

    - and hot because we’re always  so  cooooool!
    and we wet noodles (us) of every where/when/how/dampness thank you                                      
      for reading (and appreciating?) eleven things all should know about...   
                                                        wet noodles! 

see you in a moment -
ayaz daryl nielsen

'would you like to dance?' (one for fun)

would you like to dance?

“depends”, she replies,
“do you do the jitterbug
and skandie and Bulgarian
folk and the hop and lindy
and belly dances?
do you make your own
paper art forms 
about the natives
of northern Finland
and do you do
veiled water colors and
long distance runs and
triathlons and
have you a Harley
you’ve ridden in
the Sturgis parade?
do you have have arches
and a full, snug sac?
have you had sex
with a woman in a
darkened men’s room
on mushrooms barefoot
perched upon the toilet 
and did either or
both of you fall in?
was your heart essence
about when the earth
had no moon and were
you joyously dancing
as the cosmos
was created?
and, last, do you
then and again
and were you now?
yes?  oh, so it’s no?

well, ok...
   let’s dance

see you in a moment - 
ayaz daryl nielsen

#3: from the cover of bear creek haiku - proceed diligently! strong poetry turf !!

#3:  from the cover of  bear creek haiku - proceed diligently!  strong poetry turf !!

a mushroom caps  Margaret D McGee
       the old fence post
I will be what I will be

with her bra  Carl Mayfield
around my neck
let winter come

outside temple window  Judith Partin-Nielsen
   black shadow bows
      toward invisible altar

Why so tidy, owl,  James Green

   stooping to pick out debris

      from a fallow field?

fall colors  Margarita Engle
in a war year
yellow ribbons

End of day  Carl Mayfield
      light fading
  my shoes still untied

bear creek haiku
po box 3787
boulder co  80307   usa
is a 3” x 7” 48 page print pub.  Send poetry that will fit on the page (bch is cut and tape) via postal delivery with an SASE.  Coffee stains ok if you are a cab driver or an ink-splattered dakini giving birth to words.  Poets in countries other than the US can send poetry via above email (if you can). You live in the US and insist on sending your poetry by email? Well, ok.  Here’s how postal is - if no poetry is accepted, poems are returned within the SASE, otherwise, a postcard notifies you of accepted poems/will use SASE for your copy of the ish your poem(s) is/are in: remaining unaccepted poems, shredded (sounds cruel, but it’s done very gently and paper residue is handled in a very ‘green’ way) (term ‘green’, 10’s, of 2010‘s, residue).  Bch  exists on little (almost no) finances, without the use of your SASE’s, would not be able to pay for postage.  Have received ‘negative vibes’ (term represents 60’s residue) from a few poets who take exception to this ‘flow’ (70‘s residue), but, that’s just how things are here beside bear creek.  A lifetime subscription is $5 cash or a $5 check to Daryl Nielsen (gargantuous amounts, sent often, will also be graciously accepted) (gargantuous, 80‘s residue), if I don’t hear from you in a year or more via a poetry submission or some sort of ‘would like to keep my subscription’, will assume interest in bear creek haiku has lessened (what?!?).  Response time is usually less than two months, time your poem is in your mail box is usually less than three months, 6+ issues/year. (There was a period when response time was approximately three years, but that was then, and this is 2011)  Enough! If you have made it this far, then I will surely loose you by sharing a few of my own poems (am kidding you, just kidding!) (kidding, a term derived from happy goat farms). 
I love this blogging stuff. 

white roses  daughter   humming

autumn walk
through corn stubble
broken promises

As I sit
in silence
the scent 
of grin

evening meditation 
cricket sutra

Avaloketeshvara, a totally cool dude/dudette with unusually great compassion for all beings, and s/he worked and worked at relieving all types/sorts of suffering, and for a moment s/he actually did it - s/he staggered to the Buddha and said, ‘I did it’, and the Buddha revealed the suffering of the past, present, future of all sentient beings/realms/times/places, and as Avaloketeshvara saw this, 1,000 arms appeared on his/her body and s/he went right back to work - s/he is somewhere (everywhere?) right now doing his/her thing for all of us, and someday soon I hope to bump into him/her on some street corner and am able to ask how it all is going 

old iron bed frame
the lover my pillows
gossip about

opera aria   her fingers   my thigh 

Elm and 9th
a torn cardboard sign
I miss him

all the grandchildren
another great-grandchild
the old woman sighs

a full moon rising
from horizon’s trapdoor
now I can write

- see you in a moment -
ayaz daryl nielsen

#2: from the cover of bear creek haiku - proceed diligently! strong poetry turf !!

#2:  from the cover of  bear creek haiku - proceed diligently!  strong poetry turf !!

I was the tree.  Kelley Jean White
I sang windfall and night,
swallowed moonlight, grew.

let us doze instead  p l wick
and journey tomorrow
midst butterscotch pine.

A rin-tinny day  Jane Stuart
Rusty memories
Caught in gusts of wind

barn owls -  Aurora Antonovic
I dream about a
long-dead friend

float here  Emily Paskevics
         in lake-stillness
each day a wooden boat.

I run to the bus  Robert Wooten
at the bus stop waiting
whoever is there.

wrong number  Peggy Dugan French
you sounded so familiar

barn door  Phillip Howerton
opening and closing
for the wind

Owl wisdom:  eat the living,  Laurel Starkey
but their feet
will protest.

Bald Mountain  Judith Partin-Nielsen

God of Snow and Ice
of deep mountain Drifts
and gothic, sub-alpine Spruce
of high valley, frozen Silence
tiny, fern-like snow Flakes
lavender Light behind
the full Snow-moon.
Snow-capped Peaks
contours, crags, crevices
tiny particles of Grit
immensity of Rock and Cold
Arapahoe Vision
spirit-house Mountain
nation of Poets and Priests

     I wanted  Kelley Jean White
           to be
         a clear
 cold stream
       that you
  might drink
         and be

All my little legs  Don Wentworth
waving in the air, &,
yes, all your little legs, too.

From somewhere  p l wick
across might’s dark lake,
the soft lullaby of geese
downy comforters
around their clustered
saffron and sable babes.

bloody knuckles  Candi Cooper-Towler
but the toilet works

    Reviewing this (and the prior) post is/are joyishnesses! (it’s the season!) Future posts could be of poems on the 2nd and/or up to the 175th page of the past 111 issues of bear creek haiku!  (Well, no, bch has gone from 6 pages to 48 pages, am maybe somewhat carried away)
    For you and us, a most worthy, uplifted year’s end/new year! - may our poetic/writing/editorial and all endeavors flourish, surpassing every/anything we have created in depth/magnificence/...yowza, residue from eggnog at Karen G’s with other like-minded friends in Boulder yesterday eve?...nope - it’s (it being our creative/editorial/all endeavors and et cetera/depth/magnificence) sincere, honest, heart-core/heart-oriented is and - get this, and get this straight (after all, you’re on strong poetry turf) - simply will be.

see you in a moment -

ayaz daryl nielsen


#1: from the cover of bear creek haiku - proceed diligently! strong poetry turf !!

#1:  from the cover of  bear creek haiku - proceed diligently!  strong poetry turf !!

LISTENING  Dave Church

by the window,
leaves ripple --
being pulled ashore
at low tide.


The brown-tan squares
are less than they were

and the old woman hums
as she mops.

bare-breasted...  Kelly Federov
penning yet another
ode to kerouac

primordial contraction...
another ink-spattered dakini
giving birth to her words

quarter to midnight...
desolation angel lurking
in this empty bed

sushi rolls 
& cigarettes

Homesick  Jessie A Carty

Piece of me, a verse
crouches in another town
waiting, paw tucked.  Come.

suppertime  Darrell Lindsey
the tang of weeds
in the cow’s mild

all night  Denver Stull
under the street lamp
the mocking bird

this heat . . .  Giovanni Malito
rooster chasing a hen
s  l  o  w  l  y

his manuscript
crumpled in the corner
...still rustling

at the edge
of the pond
the splashes

Look at us  Lucille Gang Shulklapper
in our seventies,
wearing wrinkled love.

behind a veil of fog  Pete Lee
only the sun can lift:
the faithful moon

                                                                to my best friend’s husband
once upon a time  Bobbi Dykema Katsanis
a flower
with snow-kissed fruit
went weaving
her way
through the underground
of you.

farmer lady  Nina Buck

can’t see too good.
so you have to put the ones in front of the fives
and the tens behind a red business card,
twenties in a separate pouch.
but if you just do that
and get rid of the rotten cauliflower,
she gets on fine.

fresh-baked bread/seeing her again  Eva Alexander

born again    he married again

deep forest wind:  the ancient whisper

- pause! -
this (unexpected) poetic journey through heart and memory - Dave Church, Giovanni Malito and beloved Denver Stull have moved on - Eva Alexander last seen wandering around Prague (altho my info’s ten years old), have lost touch with Pete Lee (and with  so many other fine poets) - and poetry!  perhaps I will continue with posts of poetry from covers and currents of bear creek - now, Christmas with Judith, Frosty and 

see you in a moment -  ayaz daryl nielsen


Thursday, December 20, 2012

'Snowfall'...your holidays will! be! joyful

a poem written beside bear creek and!
your upcoming holidays will be relaxing, joyful and full of good vibes (some 60's residue there - I was there and I don't remember it so I must have been there - am quoting a famous persona,  Zonker, maybe, or Daffy Duck - Santa Claus?  I don't remember) - you got it?  (all the good vibes and joy and relaxing part?)  Cool...


lying in bed
   morning snowfall on
      the balcony

quietly watching
   a few lingering
      maple leaves become

snow cradles until
   top heavy and poof! they
      twist and sometimes

tumble with the crystals

there are things to
   do this morning...

snowfall on the 

- see you in a moment -         (gotta love Chalkduster font) (and libraries) (and bear creek)
ayaz daryl nielsen