Miriam Sagan, in residence!... Kura Studio, Fukuoka, Japan

                              poetry by Miriam Sagan

         eating strawberries                          red gates

         by the red tori gates--                      of the fox shrine

         you'd like it too                             among skyscrapers

                        

                               photos by Miriam Sagan

        vending machine light                 tree mushrooms
        shadow closes the curtain             at Kannon's feet, flower
        Tokyo alley                              in soda bottle                              

        an old man                          paper screen
        hits an orange golf ball—          can't die the full moon, cold

        this park in winter                  of the new year

   
        house slippers                            lit train

        earthquake helmet                      across dark rice fields--

        Japanese morning                       our flashlights

    

     

    weathered buddhas—                     coins in shrine box

    just a nowhere temple                   coins in vending machine

    by the train station                      hot latte

    large white cat                                             sunny day--

    with calligraphic markings                               even the dust 

    Itoshima dawn                                             looks better!

    shell markings                              he isn't home

    delicate black on white—                  just a rake and a broom

    trashed beach                               the local priest

                               crows soar

                               now that the rain has cleared

                               snow mountains

                      

assistant editor Frosty, 
stating, "That was fun!"

and, assistant editor Tama, adding, "Yes!
And all the way from Fukuoka, Japan!"
Well done, 
noble assistant editors!




see you in a moment


ayaz daryl nielsen

                                               

                                                       darylayaz@gmail.com

                                                (and/or) darylayaz@me.com

note:

poetry can be mailed to  
                        bear creek haiku

                        PO Box 596

                        Longmont, CO

                        80502   

                        USA                (an SASE is appreciated)

From other than the USA, email (as above)
And! 

If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US, 

that's ok, too (include postal address)

                        Best to all our creative endeavors!

   

Peggy Dugan French, Ajśa Dźemila Zahirović, t. kilgore splake, Rachael Ikins, Dennis Rhodes, Steve Ausherman, pl. wick, Patricia Carragon! and, Judith Partin-Nielsen!

             poet Peggy Dugan French  Cardiff, California                   

rules of love:

be kind to all

share a flower from time to time

hold hands while waiting in line at the movies

be patient

learn to let go

learn to hold on tight

smile

eat dinner together

don’t go to bed mad

(isn’t that on all the long lasting marriage lists)

be strong

for yourself

for each other

always

poet Ajśa Dźemila Zahirović

                                    Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina

The Old Bridge

and the Neretva River-              The deserted well. . .

The undying beauty.                  A leaf on a tree breaks

                                         Its dreamy silence.

                 Two birch trees in the sunshine

                 Stretch out their arms. . .

                 The artist and the poem.

                                          He has turned old in the saddle -

                                          The poet on his

                                          Eternal Journey.

                    t. kilgore splake   calumet, michigan

save the trees                                        rolling road miles

words not explaining                                  felt it coming

what's beneath the bark                         pounding alpha-beat keys

                                                    couldn't type fast enough

                   30 feet today

             another twenty tomorrow

two poems from t. kilgore splake's 2017

                AHHH 
                LIFE

       from Transcendent Zero Press
       www.transcendentzeropress.com

            splake@chartermi.net

recent t. kilgore book is "ghost light"       published by Gage Press 
in Battle Creek, Michigan.

Tama and Frosty: 'And now, Mister Editor, a poetry collection us
kitty-kats especially chose for this post. . ."

For Kate
a love story in four parts                        poems by 
                                                          Rachael Ikins

              "Kate," states Tama, "is a most special friend of ours."
"And!," says Frosty, "Rachael Ikins has written an entire collection of poems, with pictures, about beloved Kate!  
                    Here is a favorite, among many favorites!" 

                    Perfection

                      After sun and full of joie de vivre
                      you clamber up my pillow stack.
                      Vibrating like an engine you lick 
                      my chin raw purple if you can tease 
                      me out of the pile.  You unfold yourself
                      along my face.

                     You flop 6 pounds, tiptoed suede over my nose.
                     You purr, no color in your dark
                     new-moon eyes.  You are so happy.
                     I have to laugh.  I can't breathe with a nose
                     full of you.  You fit exactly into
                     my elbow crook, my fingers
                     just long enough to tuck beneath
                     your paws.


Lovely, noble assistant editors- and, shall we include poems from other close friends of ours?  
                              Happy mews mixed with purring!

 
                       poet Dennis Rhodes   Naples, Forida

     The artichoke, asparagus,             I've never given away
     lettuce and beet                       anything of value
     all sat around having                 that hasn't come back to me
     a fruitless conversation.              in one way
                                               or another.

               
     poet Steve Ausherman   Albuquerque, New Mexico

                   Rivets and Rust

         The feet of my father are cold,
               calloused, pale and yellow.

         I know neither him nor his bones,
               teeth nor truth, stubble nor smile.

         A life of steel-toed boots and pallet jacks,
               home town factory smoke.

         Behind the football field rises gravel heaps,
               trains whistles echo umber hills.

         Work, work, work thick in his bones.
               His days filled with rust.

         The feet of my father are huge.
               Carry the family. Carry heavy stones.

         The books are not balanced. None opened.
               The safe is empty. Wallet worn thin.

         Looking at him, I try to understand
               Rivets and bones and loading docks.

         The feet of my father are cold,
               calloused, pale and yellow.


poet pl. wick  from an Okefenokee swamp stump   Empire, Colorado

    it's one of those jobs--
    a job that
    has absorbed  soaked
    infiltrated the blood
    the marrow   and soul . .

    s0  between shifts
    instead of
    much needed sleep
       a cat-nap in the
    staff-room--

    with a cup of jasmine
    and a courtesy-cart bagel
    it's down to the basement
    into the quiet and dust 
    tucked alongside the boiler
    (very Dicken-esque)

    a couple of hours with pen &
    blue cover spiral notebook--
    daydreaming poetry. . .

geeks
grifters &
candied apples

selections by
toma rosen and pl. wick

contact Canyon.Wren@Q.com (and/or)
pl. wick
PO Box 249
                                          Empire, CO
                                          80438-0249
(a copy also in today's postal mailing of bear creek haiku #141)

Noble assistant editors Tama and Frosty have chosen to close this post with two poets they're especially fond of, Patricia Carragon! and, Judith Partin-Nielsen!

                poet Patricia Carragon   Brooklyn, New York

subway in motion
        wheels sing lullabies                      vapor clouds
               passengers fall asleep              rise from my teapot
                                                      Winter cold blues

              poet Judith Partin-Nielsen   Longmont, Colorado

                              wanting to go home
                              longing toward that place
                              now only remembered
                              still, I see the horizon

see you in a moment


ayaz dary nielsen

                                                  darylayaz@gmail.com

                                       (and/or) darylayaz@me.com

note:
poetry can be mailed to    
                        bear creek haiku

                        PO Box 596

                        Longmont, CO

                        80502   

                        USA                (an SASE is appreciated)

From other than the USA, email (as above)
And! 

If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US, 

that's ok, too (include postal address)

                        Best to all our creative endeavors!