Sunday, February 28, 2016

Origami Poems Project, and, catku by Patricia Carragon!

  Origami Poems Project, the sweetest little publishing endeavor we have, ‘changing the world one micro-chapbook at a time’ 
  Six of my poems in an origami chapbook,
title, 'proof of love',
cover art by Lauri Burke, titled,
‘Speak with the Tongue of the Wild Rose’
  Received ten copies, all in a first class letter, and! am beyond delighted- will share my copies, including one to a Colorado poet/good friend with end-stage cancer (knowing he’ll love it).  Well done, Jan Keough and The Editors, well done, indeed.                                                
  Check 'em out, your poems
could help change the world
one micro-chapbook at a time!

two from within 'proof of love'. . .

an odd evening
everyone is lined up
at someone else's door
the problem seems to be
nobody is home
to invite us in
for treats and warm

           I have not washed the linens
           on our bed as I said I would

           They carry your lingering scent
           and I am this much less alone

           When you are safely nearby,
           clean linens will be drying as
           I wait beside the unlocked door
           of an open home and heart.

yes! and, as special treats,
catku by patricia carragon. . .   

sleeping kittens
on the bed
fur ball quilt

the cat leaves a Christmas present 
in the litter box
the scent of shit happening

Brooklyn felines  
                comes with the territory
                               'and we have Colorado cattitude!'
                               (Tama and Frosty, ass't. editors)

'more, more from
Patricia Carragon!'

behind iron gates
         an ornamental cat rests
                  casting its shadow
                           on a graden rock
                           nearby houses protected
                                            by concrete lions

kitty rubs
against your legs
         free massage

                                feline companions
                                cat ladies anonymous
                                men need not apply

          eyes of the cat witch
          hypnotize her devotees
          cuteness wins more treats     

          'I have the same eyes! and the cuteness!', states Frosty. . .

indeed you do, amigo -
let’s go have a treat (or two)

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen


Monday, February 22, 2016

not only our finest poetry editors, also, among our finest poets!

ass’t. ed.s Tama and Frosty, over evening treats, informed me that a poetry majority recently submitted to bear creek haiku are - poetry editors! 
Tama, Frosty: "and
here are our favorites!
and thank you, 
Patricia Carragon, 
for your catku!"

Karen O’Leary, editor, 
Whispers In The Wind
visit often, read submission guidelines, send Karen your poetry: 
Whispers is a dynamic and nourishing home for poets and poems (it’s all about us).  From Karen O'Leary:

her arms float in music
exploring dreams                      grandma and me
                                          washing warm eggs…
                                          misty dream

                the flow
                of poetry never dry—
                bear creek haiku

                               (In tribute to editor
                ayaz daryl nielsen)  (and his ass't. ed.'s!)

Kind of a Hurricane Press
founding editor A. J. Huffman, distinguished/award-winning poet/writer - Kind of a Hurricane Press has eight distinct journals (including High Coupe), continuous anthologies, ‘best of’, pushcart awards, online/print/bookstore. . . “We read it all.  We write it all.  We like it all.  We are planning to do it all.”  And they are doing it all, with dignity, and integrity.
(beyond delighted - later this year Amy Huffman and Kind of a Hurricane Press will release a collection of my poetry titled "Rain in the Night Wind")
From A. J. Huffman:
egg shells shatter
more than yolk hits the floor
next time I'll tread lighter

                              my mind--a carousel of mourning
                              plays memories on repeat

tired eyes tremble
refuse to close
break curfew to prove a point

Lilliput Review (print publication,            
inspiration for bear creek haiku
30 some years ago)
Don Wentworth and Lillie are
online at Issa's Untidy Hut, also,
Wednesday Haiku@Issa's Untidy Hut,
with broadsides/assorted
other necessities
we need to know - 
ed./friend/Don Wentworth, also my most favorite/plagiarized poet, always the forefront of poetic/editorial innovation and creativity. . .
(Don has a third anthology of poetry from Six Gallery Press soon to be released, we'll watch for it)  
From Don: 

among the ruins
saplings and wild grasses
the goddess abides

                                       3 am
                                       first the house settling
                                       then the heart

             misreading a line by Rilke
             sparrow goes back
             to the branch

Marianne Szlyk

‘The song is still the same’, perhaps the loveliest online home for our poems - "Marianne obviously has plenty of heart and good vibes", states Tama. Many friends (including Jo Balistreri and Angelee Deodhar) have poems/haiga/music/photos/et al. enshrined therein. . .

"and where", I ask Tama, "are Marianne's poems?"
Tama points out "Frosty's sleeping on them". . .
well, ok. . . we'll stop here and complete what needs to be said overn'over of bestest poetry editors/poets we all need to interact with in the next post, including friends Peggy Dugan French (ed. of SHEMOM), infamous buddy p l wick (of Cheap Seats), Patricia Carragon (online at Brownstone Poets Inspiring Brooklyn Since 2005) - "Patricia Carragon loves cupcakes, chocolate, cats, haiku, and the borough of Brooklyn"  "catku", purrs Tama, "her catku"

Tama, we'll begin our next post with Patricia's catku
yes, let's wake Frosty up, and have our treats. . .

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

Friday, February 12, 2016

Broncos, poetry and a green doorway

Perhaps you haven't heard - Denver Broncos, Super Bowl champs!
Now, you ask, what does this have to do with poetry, warm friendship and beautiful green doorways?  
ass’t. ed’s                       
Tama and Frosty
will share the answer. . .
During our championship game gathering in Boulder, CO, at Bayu and Sofia's, a gathering of Sufi's, Indonesian Muslims, black lady students from the university, local real estate magnate, a burly, tearful truck driver, children (many children) and diverse other us's (yes, Tama, including cats), longtime friend Haris Ichwan shared with me his latest acrylic painting - stunned, I blurted 'I need to do a blog post of your painting'
and here it is. . .

Haris Ichwan

                                                A million people danced around the Denver Civic Center with the Broncos win, and, we danced together as we bonded even further at Bayu's, at Sofia's.  

And sometimes my life opens its eyes a little bit further - thank you, Haris. 

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

Monday, February 8, 2016

George Held,, Bijay Kant Dubey, and Kelley Jean White - (all their worthiness, and, correcting my mistakes)

      Bleak Splendor
Originally reviewed here as Black Splendor Poems,
again, here is
Night Falls on Dog Hill Road
(followed by an update on this poem) 

larry’s flags - American and POW/MIA -
Fly straight out as the wind shifts.
From SSE to WNW
And September heat-wave
Yields to promise of fall. . .

At the end of the Little Dipper
We want to feel content,
But that black banner with white
“POW/MIA” reminds us that Nam
Still roils the countryside,

And Iraq, where it’s early 
Morning now, stretches
Before us like the lowering
Sky, while the rope bangs the pole,
And clouds cover the Pole Star.

George states, 'I'm particularly glad you chose to cite "Night Falls on Dog Hill Road," as I believe you are a Vet. Larry, the Vet in the poem, has since died of exposure to Agent Orange in Nam. I bought him that POW flag after the first one had been ripped to shreds by the wind. He was a native of the rural area where the poem is set, and he'd been laid off by a young woman executive new to his firm who couldn't tolerate his farmer's attire and view of the world. Because he was in his 50s and sick, living in a depressed economy upstate, he never had another job. I'm sure his story is not unique among Vets, nor is his being a damned good guy. R.I.P."

Yes, please rest in peace, my fellow vet. . .


Misspelled Miriam Sagan's
name in earlier post,
and will feel better if
it's (again) corrected here-
also, an opportunity
to reiterate the readability and
unique quality of these
two poetry ensembles. . .

         dream that
       is not a dream

   a conversation on poetry

     Elizabeth Serle Lamb
        Miriam Sagan

The Dippers Do Their Part                                
     Michael G. Smith
       Laura Young

(created with the inspiration/
prayers/salah of Franz Dolp)

       Something lies in the earth
       by the river
       in cold rock, the fallen leaves
       here where the river was,
       something in the dark depression
       of this earth

       waiting to be filled.

                               Franz Dolp   

wow, I had misspelled
Mr Dolp's name, also. . .                            

from ass't. ed.s
Tama and Frosty -
'onward, mr ayaz daryl!
we love ya and got
your back!'

(belly rubs and
extra treats tonight)

Yes!, onward. . .

Bijay Kant Dubey - gosh, hope I've finally spelled this name right - of West Bengal, India, with spur-of-the-moment poetry in 'comments' of each post - I read them with expected great interest . . .
and, here's one. . .


Where the vagabond gipsy scholar
Visionary and gliding,
Where that shabby Whitman
Clumsy and uncouth,
But raw in thought and idea,
The mind dwelling apart,

The visions shifting?                      
              Bijay Kant Dubey


Kelley Jean White!   bear creek haiku, when idle, lives in a size 11 shoebox.  Peeking in another nearby shoebox containing several small plastic figures and a cowbell my grandfather gave me, I find - poetry written by Kelley (no idea how long they've been there, I rarely use a cowbell anymore) - Kelley has been a friend/poet I've admired for 20+ years. . .
and, here are the poems. . .

kelley jean white
laconia  new hampshire

                          April 30th —
                          I photograph 
                          the last bit of snow.

Autumn again -
the old dog leads the way
down a path I don’t know.

                             empty playground
                             shadows swinging on brick walls
                             schoolyard at dusk.

               flying kites
               at the yard sale
               children trample 
               the crocus

                                          Hardly a breeze -
                                          as close to silence
                                          as I’ll ever be.

nose raised, stumbling
the old dog bows
for a piece of meat


see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen


Saturday, February 6, 2016

Bijay Kant Dubey, Peggy Dugan French, Dennis Rhodes, Don Wentworth, Patricia Carragon, Steve Ausherman and normal

ass't. ed.s Tama and Frosty presenting some of their favorites for the next issue of bear creek haiku (#132). . .

              eyes of the cat witch
              hypnotize her devotees
              cuteness wins more treats

              the cat leaves a Christmas present
              in the litter box
              the scent of shit happening
patricia carragaon                               a treat poem!!!
brooklyn  new york                                           

                          The snow fields,
                          The icicles hanging,
                          The leaves looking white
                          Yet to wake and arise
                          With the golden flashes of the sun.

                          bijay kant dubey
                          west bengal  india

             You are                                      

             the candle

             this poem

             the moth
             the moth
             the moth

             don wentworth
         pittsburgh  pennsylvania

                                                       the owl’s hoot
                                 straight up

                                 unseen from the road
                                    the hermit dances
                                      with the headlights

                                      carl mayfield  
                                      rio rancho  new mexico

this crossroad                                              
a painful one
in spite of it all
the solid road behind us
will pave the one ahead

peggy dugan french
cardiff  caifornia

                                                  notice in Laundromat

                             ONE ORANGE SOCK
                             WITH BLUE STRIPES
                             ANSWERS TO
                             THE NAME
                             OF "STINKY"--
                             MATE IS DISTRAUGHT
                             REWARD OFFERED

                                   dennis rhodes
                                   naples  florida

                    elongated tail
                 sweeps the sky                                                            
                    free of storm clouds
                 with uncomplicated,
                    Zen-like brushstrokes

  steve ausherman  
  albuquerque  new mexico  



the wise man packs his bag for eternity
the fool questions the weather there

                                     saugerties  new york

                a fine selection, Tama and Frosty!
                Treats for everyone!

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen


Friday, February 5, 2016

Chris Faiers (and Chase): Eel Pie Island Dharma, and, Rivers of Zen

                         Eel Pie Island Dharma
                         A Hippee memoir/haibun
                         by Chris Faiers

from the back cover: ‘This memoir of a sixties survivor has become a haiku/haibun classic and an oft-quoted reference for the heady ferment which was the tail end of the 1960s.’
Holy smokes, Canadian Chris, completely immersed in 60’s hippeedom, especially in England, kept his head while immersed in the dharma of legendary 60’s scenes, including Eel Pie Island, Twickenham - a Beatle, the Rolling Stones, trips, free love, banshees, music festivals, hobbits, and, through all of it, the creation of beloved haiku/haibun - and, am delighted that Chris and his dog, Chase, are now friends of ours ('us, too', state ass't. ed's 
Tama and Frosty). . .

Leeks and eggs
smoke drifting over                             
the Cornish cliffs

Balding father
hippe son 
in an English pub

these clouds reveal
too much moon

from North Shore Series
ISBN 978-1-897475-92-8

Totally cool!  Plus!, a collection of haibun from Chase and Chris:

ZenRiver  Poems & Haibun
ZenRiver Gardens is Chris Faiers’ 

Zen/First Nation shaman/poetic/country retreat center on the Crowe River, near the Canadian Shield, Canada - here are but two delightful of Chris's Zen River haibun, brief journeys into the poetic persona of beloved land he and Chase live on/within. . . 
The late summer day was perfect for a relaxing suiseki stone hunt in the dry fall riverbed. . . I noticed Big Blue the heron standing on the exposed chain of rocks I had intended to explore.

              planning a stone hunt                                    
             blue heron on my rocks
                thinking of fish

                  heron and I
                exchange stares

(one more. . .) 

These lighthearted reflections on fireflies and their rituals inspired this final poem.

                                Zen monk
           playing hide and seek
                 with his soul

from North Shore Series
ISBN 978-1-897-897475-25-6
Chris Faiers -

asst'. ed'.s, asking,
"maybe we can visit Zen River?"
how about treats and
belly rubs as we think about it?
"far out!"

see you in a moment  

ayaz daryl nielsen