Wednesday, January 20, 2016

up late the moon in our merlot

bear creek haiku, issue #131, with the moon in jo balistreri's merlot!!

Hokusai laughs                             
as his studio
burns; even
rice bowl empty.
                    alan catlin   

firefly light show
donkey cart planter
going nowhere
                  patricia carragon

soccer game over
dusty smiles
filled with oranges 

                 peggy dugan french

               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

                                  judith partin-nielsen

   Talking to my Friend on the Phone

   It’s not the same as eating dinner with her
   but this will have to do
                 a feast of words
                 over the lines
                 from one country to another
                 it'll have to do

                                                paula yup

they should see this
in Omaha -
a chili shack servin’ up                               
tofu chili burgers
guacamole-chili fries
red and white waxed paper
neon-blue lemonades
matching wax-paper cups
with Mr Zig-Zag logos

skateboard & tattoo shack
sunglass & huarache shack
little green pot shack
show-it-all bikini shack

and  here’s a larger-than-life
sand-sculpture mermaid
incredibly realistic
incredibly au natural -

dribbled tofu-guac’ & chili

down my new tie-dyed tee. . .

p l wick and toma rosen at the venice boardwalk

                          and, last, dogku from chase. . .

                          rolling on my back
                          kicking snow in the air:
                          sun on my cold belly

                          sniff . . . snuffle
                          happy days
                          happy notes


'dogku?!?  where's the catku?'

ok, ass't. ed,'s, one last ku, just for you:

Stray cat
What must you have done
To strut like that?

                           cathy porter

now, it's treats for everyone!

        and thank you, angelee deodhar, for the spilled milk. . .

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                               


Monday, January 4, 2016

the tears we shed

                                                the tears
                           i shed
                           have become 
                           grain                              Thich Naht Hanh

tears of friends, sprouting as poetry . . .                                             

 Golden afternoon
 Daylilies kissing dandelions
 I kiss daddy

                 Joanna Sue Haymart
                 (granddaughter of poet James Peters)

stoic granite sentries
along the mountain's ridge
first to encounter the clouds

as woolen wisps of moisture
begin to plait around me
a lone raven perches near -
the twisted limber pine
his choice of lectern

I question not
this steel-blued messenger
both he and I know
the reason for his presence
                  p l wick

   stiff as brown paper
            oak leaves resist
                     winter's wind
                                       Patricia Carragon

    of doubt…
      silence echoes
                                        Karen O'Leary

       Some times,
       to be alive
    is all that counts.
                                        Teresinka Pereira


                   . . . and the sea
                   invaded the river
                   that abandoned its bed
                   and returned to the spring.

                   . . . and all the land
                   the ground opened
                   swallowing the pleasure
                   of the big city.

                   To me it was like
                   the end of the infinite
                   and the world stopped
                   just to see the first time
                   that I felt. . .  Love!
                                            AntuĂ©rpio Pettersen Filho
                                            (translator: Teresinka Pereira)

To dream 
of love

To wake
for nothing less.
                                             Charlie Mehrhoff

                           I have
                           I am
                                              Thich Naht Hanh

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                                          

           'I sure like Mr Hanh 
           (and all these poets)'

              the Froster-
             "treats for all!!