Wednesday, March 30, 2016

poetry from bear creek haiku, issue #133

  lost love memories                                        

toothbrush in bathroom
ash tray cigarette smell
vanilla candle burning 
     day after day

t. kigore splake
               calumet  michigan

sunbeam - 
kitten stretching
just one paw
scoops up
the warmth of sun

lysa collins
         white rock  british columbia

The Daily Morning

After eggs
and toast

here is day
already fraying

at the lapels
Ah well press on

There is more
to life than living

carl mayfield    rio rancho  new mexico                                     dennis saleh
                                                            seaside  california

3 am
first the house settling
then the heart

                                        misreading a line by Rilke
                                        sparrow goes back
                                        to the branch
                        don wentworth      pittsburgh pennsylvania


this has been fun - we've all earned treats and belly rubs!
"yay!" (from tama, frosty, judith, jo balistreri + peggy dugan french)
                               "treats and belly rubs for all of us!"

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

Saturday, March 26, 2016

the poetry of bear creek haiku, issue #133

poets and their poetry. . .                   bear creek haiku #133. . .


tropical summer
my bamboo
grows another foot

christina sng  

fish in the stream
appear larger than they are
so this too shall pass

robert wooten
durham  north carolina

at the piano
old hands 
still know the tune

candi cooper-towler
longmont  colorado

sitting zazen…
doves fly
into my meditation

jo balistreri
genesee depot  wisconsin

an old hymn
sung with gusto
comfort food

joanna m. weston
shawnigan lake  british columbia

                                                  years of confusion
                                                leading to this sparrow
                                                 watching me closely
two big things
he says, holding up
three fingers 

wood pigeon
peeking at my window
what do you think?
                          for joy mccall
         don wentworth
         pittsburgh  pennsylvania                                                           

The carnations are flowering again.
Into human hearts
They are breathing contentment.

 dr. ajša zahirović
 sarajevo   bosnia and herzegovina

from tama and frosty:                                
"we love 'em all, and!                                    
how about one from our 
good friend, james peters?
and then treats!"

yes, fine idea, ass't. ed.s!

A teenager 
Hits the road
First car
Free.                               james peters
                                                   cottontown tennessee

treats and back rubs for everyone! and

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

Thursday, March 17, 2016

Ken McConnellogue, Patti Smith, poetry and Easter's martyrs. . . "It all leads to each other. We become ourselves."

A century ago, about 1,200 Irish women and men - poets and dreamers - initiated a poorly organized, short-lived rebellion against brutal British rule.  Patrick Pearse, one of the leaders, shortly before execution, wrote to his mother, "Our deeds of last week are the most splendid in Ireland's history.  People will say hard things about us now, but we shall be remembered by posterity and blessed by unborn generations."  Seemingly a dismal failure, yet, stirred by the brutality of the executions, Ireland's "slumbering nationalist movement awakened" - in 1949, Ireland achieved full nationhood.
Ken McConnellogue, poet and journalist, amidst his Denver Post article: "the doomed, foolhardy, splendid effort galvanized the Irish then and continues to this day.  It was not a bad week's work for poets and dreamers who became martyrs to their nation's cause, remembered by posterity and blessed by unborn generations."
Ken McConnellogue (

Patti Smith, in her latest,
    'M Train' (winner of the National Book Award),
"Where does it all lead?  
What will become of us?. . .
                                   It all leads to each other.
                                   We become ourselves."     

Easter's magnificent martyrs, leading us back to each other.

Beloved wife Judith, with ancestors from County Derry, directed me to Ken's article, even as  
ass't. ed.'s Frosty and Tama 
insisted we create this post -
"we have feline ancestors
in County Derry, too!"

(from 'A New Zealand Prayer Book')

Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all, Loving God, in whom is heaven:
   The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
   The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
   Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
   Your commonwealth of peace and freedom
   sustain our hope and come on earth.
With the bread we need today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.
In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.
For you reign in the glory of the power that is love,
now and for ever.  Amen.

Ok, Tama, Frosty, it's time for treats! 

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

Friday, March 4, 2016

poetry - bear creek haiku #132

select poems/nonesuch from the upcoming 132nd print issue of bear creek haiku - one requirement: enjoy. . .

                                        lone crow  
fort collins  colorado

April 30th —                           Kelley Jean White
I photograph                            laconia   new hampshire 
the last bit of snow.

Morning Routine  

Miss morning java
Love my bittersweet coffee
What can take its place?

Joy Leftow - violet 

in the end, the beginning ⎯
      all names etched
            in moss

Don Wentworth
pittsburg  pennsylvania

                                                       long journey - 
                                       she crochets the miles into
                                       a grandchild's shawl
                                       John McDonald

            an old hymn
            sung with gusto
            comfort food

                Joanna M. Weston 
                shawnigan lake 
                british columbia

                     from a favorite poet. . .

                     carpet of snow -
                     already at the barn

                          Lysa Collins
                            white rock  british columbia

well, they're all favorite poets 
                               Carl Mayfield
                               rio rancho 
                               new mexico

              the owl’s hoot
               straight up

 Tama and Frosty, insisting                   

 'and their all 
 special poets, too!'

yes, loyal assistant 
editors, well meowed -
and, it's time for treats!

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen