Frosty and Tama, choosing favorite poems from the depths
of bear creek haiku's in-between issues home (a size eleven shoebox) "someone's feet seem to be growing" states Frosty
"and it isn't Judith's" says Tama. . .
enough, already,
assistant editors-
assistant editors-
to the poetry!
Name Calling
Folks who say Trump is like “Hitler”
Think he’s a rabblerousing belittler;
The Big Lie he’s mastered,
Like Goebbels, that bastard,
To make our Brown Shirts feel bitterer.
George Held New York New York
"wow, good friend George
doesn't mince words" says Frosty
"well, I don't know a single kitty-
cat who's going to vote for Chump,
and, Frosty, how come you didn't
run for president this year?"
"as you well know, Tama, the
editor of bear creek haiku
needs all the help he can get"
"too true, Frosty, too true. . ."
Miniatures
I
me
my
limited
compass
of
the pretentious
David Sermersheim Westbrook Connecticut
"David's poem works well with George's"
"true, Tama, true. . ."
"now, poetry from Christina Sing!",
insists Tama
Tama, her last name is Sng, even if it is pronounced 'sing' -
"but she makes my heart sing!"
curled up with books
endless winter nights first day of summer
spent in other worlds a raven feather
at the door
Christina Sng Singapore
"We need a Jo poem!" insists Frosty
a Jo poem?
"Mary Jo Balistreri poem!"
Witness
As the storm comes
closer
the bent-limbed oaks
offer shelter
to fluttering finches,
yellow-slick feathers
curled into
golden balls
ornaments
of hope
in a deep rumble sky
Mary Jo Balistreri Genesee Park Wisconsin
assistant editor Frosty:
"I'd like a poem written beside Shawnigan Lake!"
noble assistant, we have two
a bench
on the cliff-edge
soaring eagles
a bluebird
on the fencepost -
sunrise aria
Joanna Weston Shawnigan Lake British Columbia
Tama: "let's publish poems by Karen O'Leary"
(editor of Whispers in the Wind)
"and she'll feel better!"
sepia pages
peace settles
between the wrinkles
gravesite
my tears drip
into a poem
central farm time
milking the cows before
the cock crows
Karen O'Leary West Fargo North Dakota
and Robert O'Rourke, mr. lone crow, loved dearly by so many,
now knocking on heaven's door
"doesn't have to knock", states Tama, "the door is wide open"
above created by our Robert O'Rourke Fort Collins Colorado
sails furled now
his small boat
moving ever
so slowly toward
the horizon, each
out breath bringing
the face of his
Beloved Jesus
ever closer
for Bob, from Judith Partin-Nielsen Longmont Colorado
"now we're crying," from Tama and Frosty
noble assistants, we all are
we have one more poem, from
Bijoy Kumar Dubey West Bengal India
Tama, Frosty, Judith, let's have our treats
and hold Bob in our hearts
even as he enters the
greatest embrace of all
see you in a moment
ayaz daryl nielsen
darylayaz@gmail.com (and/or) darylayaz@me.com
"now, poetry from Christina Sing!",
insists Tama
Tama, her last name is Sng, even if it is pronounced 'sing' -
"but she makes my heart sing!"
curled up with books
endless winter nights first day of summer
spent in other worlds a raven feather
at the door
Christina Sng Singapore
"We need a Jo poem!" insists Frosty
a Jo poem?
"Mary Jo Balistreri poem!"
Witness
As the storm comes
closer
the bent-limbed oaks
offer shelter
to fluttering finches,
yellow-slick feathers
curled into
golden balls
ornaments
of hope
in a deep rumble sky
Mary Jo Balistreri Genesee Park Wisconsin
assistant editor Frosty:
"I'd like a poem written beside Shawnigan Lake!"
noble assistant, we have two
a bench
on the cliff-edge
soaring eagles
a bluebird
on the fencepost -
sunrise aria
Joanna Weston Shawnigan Lake British Columbia
Tama: "let's publish poems by Karen O'Leary"
(editor of Whispers in the Wind)
"and she'll feel better!"
sepia pages
peace settles
between the wrinkles
gravesite
my tears drip
into a poem
central farm time
milking the cows before
the cock crows
Karen O'Leary West Fargo North Dakota
and Robert O'Rourke, mr. lone crow, loved dearly by so many,
now knocking on heaven's door
"doesn't have to knock", states Tama, "the door is wide open"
above created by our Robert O'Rourke Fort Collins Colorado
sails furled now
his small boat
moving ever
so slowly toward
the horizon, each
out breath bringing
the face of his
Beloved Jesus
ever closer
for Bob, from Judith Partin-Nielsen Longmont Colorado
"now we're crying," from Tama and Frosty
noble assistants, we all are
we have one more poem, from
Bijoy Kumar Dubey West Bengal India
Om,
Om,
Hari Om,
The break of sound
And it splitting,
Om,
A U M,
A U M,
Hari Om,
Om, Om,
Hari, Hari.
The creation,
The flashing sun for the first time
And the things bathed in sunshine
And the break of sound
Doing the rounds
With the twitter and bird notes
Resounding and vibrating,
Vedic seers and hermits
Taking a bath into the river
In the morning
And chanting,
Om,
Om, Om,
Hari Om.
Tama: "we're all seers and
hermits in this river of life"
Frosty: "lovely, Tama"
Tama, Frosty, Judith, let's have our treats
and hold Bob in our hearts
even as he enters the
greatest embrace of all
see you in a moment
ayaz daryl nielsen
darylayaz@gmail.com (and/or) darylayaz@me.com
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