Bear Creek Haiku, a new home 
Today, in the move to a new size 11 (Keens) shoebox, found!  Found were poems, promises, poets, a missing sock (and felines, Frosty states) all overdue for recognition, recognition and admiration. . .

assistant editor Frosty's affirmation: 'assistant editors first'. . .

Peggy Dugan French, ed., Shemom,
Phynix and Savannah                             asst. ed. Phynix         

 

your best poetry to
Peggy French
2486 Montgomery Ave   
Cardiff CA  92007                   
pdfrench@cox.net
(friend and cohort)

asst. ed. Savannah









Patricia Carragon (Brooklyn)
editor-in-chief
Brownstone Poets Poetry Series                asst. ed. Sam           

                        
active, worthy poetry endeavors,
let's give Ms Carragon and 
asst. ed. Sam our blessings!
(and treats, says Frosty)
much info at 
brownstonepoets.blogspot.com




Marianne Slyzk, ed.
The song is. . .
poetry, music, oodles                 asst. ed. Callie                   

of poet-nurturing activity
thesongis.blogspot.com
asst. ed.s Callie and Thelma









and, asst. ed. Thelma

Karla Linn Merrifield 
and Bastet                              asst. ed. Bastet              

The Centrifugal Eye Poetry Journal
yup, kindda makes this blog look a bit shabby
('but not me!', states Frosty)
find out for yourself, and visit there - includes 
everything poetic




Cheap Seats  a ticket to ride
p l wick, editor                               p l choosing pushcart nominees           

print pub needs your best -
info at   canyon.wren@q.com                   
Cheap Seats
PO Box 249
Empire CO  80430-0249





'the poem! share that special poem!', states Frosty. . .  ok, alright -
from the blog Alley Kat Poets ed. Max tdc   adnap@q.com. . .

                   cans of cat food

                   almost two-bits 

                   some almost four-bits more

                   now  with gleaming

                   spectrum lids

                   like candy-apple show-car glitz

                   regal purple

                   exotic jungle green

                   sensuous sapphire

                   mandarin hot-rod

                   dreamy turquoise

                   now—

                   Posey the inky garage ratter

                   eyes frosting over

                   whiskers of grey

                   just wants

                   plain ol’ dull-stamped

                   canned Friskies—

                   something with fish  please

                   and a belly rub.

an extra treat for Max! 

finally, three fine poetry collections, found in the basement of the old shoebox. . .

Culling from George Held, always a versatile poet one (all) should often experience - among these 75 pages within the four seasons, this winter poem
dedicated to friend Dave Church  (1947 - 2008)

The Waning Moon

Moon on the wane,
Ten degrees outside.

Will it wax again
Next month?

Will life renew in spring?
Will the heart stay young?

published by Poets Wear Prada
533 Bloomfield Street, Second Floor
Hoboken, N J  07030
http://pwpbooks.blogspot.com    George Held:  geoheld7@gmail.com

  

1984's lovely 32-pages of poetry from jani home webster (deceased), sent by friend Karen O'Leary (of online Whispers In The Wind fame). . . 

a jani johe poem, in remembrance. . .

miles

what are you saying now
when I can't hear you

do you whistle
going up long stairs

listen to music
when you're lonely

what are you doing now

all these may miles away



online at Whispers in the Wind  Karen O'Leary  look up the few specifics, then send your poems             gksm@cableone.net

                                                                                        
So Below  poetry by Noel Sloboda
from 2012,   sunny outside press

five poems, 
with a fold-out center,
well-done and fun. . .
                                                                                

'X-ray Vision'

No word in the comic book ads
of headaches, eyestrain, or doubling -

I'd have ordered the glasses anyhow,
hoping to penetrate the bodies mysteries.

When my wife saw me wearing them,
I hoped she would laugh along.

I grinned and rubbed my pounding
temples, waited expectantly.

Her look pierced me, extended toward
a place far beyond our home.

She started to unbutton and sighed,
          You simply should have asked.



Froster and I have to say goodbye! It's time for our treats (and belly rubs, asst. ed. states)


and, since Jo Balistreri doesn't currently have a cat, Frosty and Tama
have adopted her. . .

        
Tama the stationmaster


          Jo, you are ours 
              Frosty and Tama


                                         Frosty

   
see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                              darylayaz@me.com

                                                                                                    

from assistant editor Frosty (inspired by Tama the stationmaster): a SUGGESTION - poetry editors with feline assistants, please send a photo of your assistant(s) to us, here at mighty bear seep creek, and will post pictures (with the Frosters) at the end (beginning, Frosty states) of every post, including info. about selfsame poetry pub:  why? for us to consistently present publishing possibilities/activities/et al. for the creative folks (and felines) who visit us. . . 

(hoping to receive editorial assistant(s) photos from Marianne Zlyk, Peggy Dugan French, Karen O'Leary, Jo, Karla Linn Merrifield, Patricia Carragan, Don Wentworth (does Don have a cat, I wonder?  'he should', states the Froster)
and many others. . .
        
yes! and,
I have an initial candidate! worthy assistant, what do you think of this 
friendly fellow, who lives with our 
Bard Valley buddy/editor and
versifying friend p l wick?

                        

ok, alright, perhaps not a grand idea








a poem! we need poetry!
         poetry from Nola Obee!    Armstrong, British Columbia      
                                       

eighth decade
longer to turn the page
than to read the headlines

                                        two magpies herd
                                        a quail covey off the road
                                        no jay-walking

a fistful of black
feathers on the sidewalk
scant war news


yes, and we must have a poem from 
                Margaret L Campbell    Anderson, South Carolina


Before Goodbye

    I'm saving every
    memory - coins in a jar
    that I'll never spend.

from Karla Linn Merrifield,    Brockport, New York
a powerful self-portrait. . . 

          
                 Self-Portrait Gestalt

                 shamanwoman

                 poetturtle

                 greenvagabond

                 riverlakeoceanheart

                 If she does not swirl

                 into fire,

                 she will be your 
                 friendloversoul

                                                  

wow. . . 
everyone, time for belly rubs and treats!


see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                            darylayaz@me.com 

for Jo Balistreri

short poems/haiga/info/et al. for bear creek haiku's posts/print pub. usually arrive via postal, yet! what magic emerges by creating this post from the thrumming/humming of Frosty's (and my) email?  
An immediate post title/theme from the very first poem!. . .  
this post is dedicated to Jo Balistreri:

                      Fibonacci for Jo Balistreri

                      Jo 

                      holds

                      the pose

                      ladylike

                      like a white-white rose

                      in the strokes of Botticelli.

for Jo Balistreri           Karla Linn Merrifield

       

haiga by Ron Moss, from 

Tasmania, composed around 

a tanka of mine 

(first appearance in One Hundred Gourds) and, don'tcha just know, 

dedicated to -

Jo Balistreri!

here's two from the self-same

ms. Jo Balistreri!

     baby raccoons

     foraging

     we startle each other

a single scarlet pentstemon

Anasazi ruins

                         

                          ! a poem for Jo                      

                            from Liverpool's notorious 

                            poet/raconteur/all-around

                            dudearoonie, Ian Mullins. . . !

           

                            

              turn the key

              watch the sun rise

              ignition

                   

above, for Jo,

from Ed Markowski!

Charlie Mehrhoff, mr scarecrow hisself, chooses this dedication!

             The Masterpiece 

Unlike most human artists, the Creator 

does not sign Her work.  

This so that humanity may come to know

it all as being

Her signature. 

 from everyone's friend, Peggy Dugan French, 

  editor of Shemom, for Jo!

                                 sugar plums

                                 dressed in pink

                                 the journey begins

heavens, here's Angelee Deodhar, Peggy Dugan French (and I) for Jo

my own wife, poet and partner, Judith Partin-Nielsen, 

dedicates this poem to J0…

            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

and, this last one - Frosty's stating, no matter how many want to dedicate their poems to Jo, it's time for belly rubs and treats!

p l wick, dear friend/editor of Cheap Seats. . .  for Jo. . .

                                       let us doze together 

                                 and journey tomorrow 

                                 midst butterscotch pine

belly rubs, belly rubs and extra treats for all!

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                                     and Frosty

                                                 

darylayaz@me.com

Don Wentworth's 'Yield to the Willow'. . .

Don Wentworth's latest poetry collection: 'Yield to the Willow'

more than loverly poetry - Don, as editor of print pub Lilliput Review, online at Issa's Untidy Hut (and) Wednesday Haiku, as friend - instrumental in my creating bear creek haiku, thus, this blog site, and, especially, Don as poet: have long emulated plagiarized his exceptionally creative short poem ingeniousness. . .


two of my favorites. . .


                              one noble truth leaf after leaf after leaf
hanging low
so beautiful
 the willow                                                        
  rhyming
  with the                                            
   stream                                    

         

Charlie Mehrhoff, as always,
says it best. . .

'Today the short poem reveals the essence
of things as much or more than any art
form upon the planet. . . in every aspect,
Don is the master of the short poem.
Wield this book carefully for it is sharper
than a samurai sword.  Yield to the
willow, indeed!'


hiding in everything plain sight


     each more beautiful
        than the next
          unfurling
           humans


220 pages of Don's short poems!
$10 cash or check payable to Don Wentworth
(or via Paypal online) 
282 Main Street
Pittsburgh, PA  15201


see you in a moment

frosty and ayaz daryl nielsen
                                                               darylayaz@me.com

                           locust tree
                    gone from the bus stop
                     
                        how much longer
                             the wait

Tama the stationmaster

a post from 
Frosty. . .

Tama, stationmaster 

at Kishi (western Japan) from 2007 until her passing a week ago at age 16

A stray who simply appeared, Tama possessed a spiritual panache as stationmaster that put health and heart into the local economy, and! had all travelers and wanderers she came into contact with feel good about themselves and those nearby.  

 During a Shinto ceremony by a gūji (chief priest) and a miko (priestess), attended by 3,000 humans and many stray cats, Tama was enshrined as a kami (sacred power).  

Wow.  

Just hearing about this has me feeling good.  Thanks, Frosty.

               One universe collides

                into another.

                Dust scatters.

                Calico fur 

                or clouds?

                What

                does it matter?                                                                    poem by Charlie Mehrhoff                                 

           

     

                               home with groceries
                               the stray who snuck 
                               in behind us
                               meows

                               for his supper

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                               and Frosty

darylayaz@me.com