Monday, January 8, 2018

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
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

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


       from Transcendent Zero Press


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!" 


                      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

    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. . .

grifters &
candied apples

selections by
toma rosen and pl. wick

contact (and/or)
pl. wick
PO Box 249
                                          Empire, CO
(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


poetry can be mailed to    
                        bear creek haiku
                        PO Box 596
                        Longmont, CO
                        USA                (an SASE is appreciated)

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

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