poets of bear creek haiku #138: normal, james b peters, claudia messelodi, jim kacian, paula yup, carl mayfield, gene gryniewicz, cathy porter, karen o'leary, and! annie jenkin!

from assistant editor tama:
"bear creek haiku #138 is in the mail, now let's share some
of our awesome poets and their poems in a blog post!"

"Yes!", says assistant editor frosty, "and then, we'll honor 'em even more with our favorite treats!"  Excellent, noble assistants! Let's begin...

normal  saugerties, new york                        

listen!
the cricket wears his comedic face;
tonight, the forest falls to its' knees
laughing


james b peters
                cottontown, tennessee

Mid-afternoon
On new years day,
A sense of hope
is found in the
Bluebird on the windowsill.


claudia messelodi
                              arco, italy

May the dusk cloak drop
quickly clench the sparks of this
consuming waiting.


jim kacian
                 winchester, new york

top down
the midwest
unfolds

           game night
           in the college town
           the smell of fried food

       

       

          paula yup
          spokane, washington


          After Christmas
          Hokusai datebook on sale
          paid a utility bill
          at City Hall
          mailed thank you cards
          drank coffee
          headed to get medicine
          at the clinic
          a hassle free morning
          except for snow







carl mayfield  rio rancho, new mexico

               Cacophony

                                    curb to curb
                                    the earth cringing
                                               beneath anger
                                    dressed in frenzy
                                    fiddle music on the radio
                                    easing up
                                    on the despair


gene gryniewicz  tinley park, illinois

                     the twitch of a butterfly's wing


cathy porter  omaha, nebraska

                in between pauses
                the cat purrs
                me first




    karen o'leary  west fargo, north dakota                  

                hope chest
                full of promises
                short-sheet

                                          snow storm
                                          the bard stares
                                          at a white sheet


annie jenkin  devon, england

As two embers flew over the ocean
they met the man in the moon,
who doffed his cap and sent his news
into silvery waters below.
Picked up by passing dolphins
it spread through ocean highways;
that your dreams were seen
by moon-lit clouds who
carried your love to the stars.


tama: "since we can't get all our loverly poets in one post, should everyone have extra-special treats now?"

frosty and i: "hooray! our fine poets, and now, our treats!"
and, apologies, will try to include everyone in upcoming posts


see you in a moment


ayaz daryl nielsen

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

creative magic: Anne Shutan, Angelee Deodhar, Karen O'Leary, t kilgore splake, D Snethen, Haris Ichwan, and, Rex Sexton...

noble assistant editors, please, your advice- we are way behind in our promised and desired blog posts! I ask you, where do we even begin?  Frosty- "with treats?"       

Tama- "treats later, Sir Frosty- let's open an Annie Shutan door and work with what's therein..."

Frosty, "yes, let's do it!"

(Our friend Annie Shutan makes 

doors, and they're magic doors- 

one is in Colorado's state capital, others are in homes and 

buildings all over our beloved 

state and beyond)

Frosty opens the middle door:

poems with pictures and artwork! 

(sometimes called haiga)

         eagerly waiting for us!

Let's enter, and begin this post

(to a mewed chorus of hoorays)...

two haiga, ably assisted by Angelee Deodhar's creative expertise: the first, a poem by Karen O'Leary...

and- my goodness!  this one, a poem of ayaz daryl nielsen's!...

"and Frosty!" says Frosty "and Tama!" says Tama   true, true... 

from Mr D Snethen:

t kilgore splake slips in a bit of his poetic magic, inspired by and at his very own magical 'poet tree'!

  

      

     sun shining through clouds

           ghosts and angels

        looking down on earth

          poet's driven habits

        ignoring everyone else

           those talking arts

       tripping highway miles

      sipping eight ball forties

      deep in upper peninsula

       closing in on paradise

noble assistants, we could go on much longer, yet, let's find a worthy 

way to conclude this post, and we'll open another of Annie's magic doors again soon...

"yes", says Tama, "and we'll close with the artwork of Rex Sexton, whom we dearly miss (this one's especially for you, Rochelle)"

                                 Heartbreak Hotel

Tama, "and we'll leave through yet another magic door, that of

Haris Ichwan's!"  

"and we'll all have a favorite treat!" says Frosty...

yes, noble assistants...

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

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