Wednesday, July 29, 2015

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

                                                                                                    
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