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 -

drat

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                               
                                    darylayaz@me.com
                                                  (and/or)
                                                  darylayaz@gmail.com
                                                   

  

the tears we shed

                                                the tears

                           i shed

                           yesterday

                           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

                

                                                                                                                                           

   shadows

    of doubt…

      silence echoes

                                        Karen O'Leary

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



                   Beginning
                   (Nascente)

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

                   . . . and all the land
                   shook
                   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!
                                            Antuérpio Pettersen Filho
                                            (translator: Teresinka Pereira)

To dream 
of love

To wake
for nothing less.
                                             Charlie Mehrhoff

                         
                           I have
                           arrived
                           I am
                           home.
                                              Thich Naht Hanh


see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen                                          

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

              the Froster-
             "treats for all!! 


darylayaz@me.com
(or)
darylayaz@gmail.com