Sunday, May 20, 2018

bear creek haiku, for, and from, you: Karen O'Leary, Kelly Sauvage Angel, Don A Ryan, r. soos, George Held, Steve Ausherman, Charles Bukowski, Carl Mayfield, Julie Dickson, Angelee Deodhar, Kelley Jean White, t. kilgore splake, Denver Stull, Don Wentworth!

Assistant Editor Tama suggests, "let's earn sweet treats today by creating a haiku post from and for our haiku poets!"
Assistant Editor Frosty, mewing, "Fine idea, Tama! And we'll
begin with dear friend Karen O'Leary!"

            poet Karen O'Leary   West Fargo, North Dakota

   winding down                    three trips
   the same crooked road         through the peanut gallery
   missing spring                    can't find Planters

              poet Kelly Sauvage Angel   Madison, Wisconsin

            always the misfit                 first light
            the one-eyed calico             the old tabby waits
            nestled in my lap                at the bed's edge

       From Tama, "Lucky kitties!"
       And Frosty, "Extra treats 
         for Karen and Kelly!"
"And, one from Don A. Ryan!"

poet Don A. Ryan   
                      Chicago, Illinois

                                    Pianos around
                         The world used to hold their notes
                                When Earl Hines played

                   poet r. soos   Joshua Tree, California

swarms                                place

of mad mosquitos                   becoming old folks
today sound more inviting         was not in our plans my love
than more politics                  yet here we are

paths                                  poet

name the trails we walk            I do not grow old            
but don't bother to map them       I simply feel more wild
the deer will not care               with the need to dance

Tama: "Above four are from 140 pages of r. soos's new book of poems, during the music, Cholla Needles Press, Joshua Tree, CA, and he is also editor of Cholla Needles, a monthly literary magazine, and one of our very favorites!"

                  poet George Held   New York, New York

                            Dog Hill Haiku

          in the Catskills                           Little Dipper pours
        many objects for haiku -                August into Big Dipper   
          no Fujiyama                               the sound of splashing

       Bluebird and warbler                  Frosty November
     have long since flown south -      morning - bare birch hosts sun
       crows' caws echo                       warmed junco

Frosty:  "Above are from the 22 pages of George Held's book of poems,                          DOG HILL POEMS, published last year by Goldfish Press!"

poet Steve Ausherman
        Albuquerque, New Mexico

         A screen door mosquito
           Buzzes with the aroma
         Of yellow potato salad.

    Cuts in fingers
      Blackened with motor oil
      of the working poor.

         Shot-up schools.
           Education always
         A soft target.
                                              haiga by Tama and Frosty,
                                                 published in Wild Violet

                         poet Charles Bukowski

       a sensible fellow                   bad fix

       when I fart                          old Butch, they fixed him,
          my cat could care               the girls don't look like much
       less.                                  anymore.

                        from Charles Bukowski on CATS
                           118 pages about his cats, 2015, 
                              by HarperCollinsPublishers

          poet Carl Mayfield              poet Julie Dickson   
          Rio Rancho, New Mexico            Exeter, New Hampshire

          her lowered eyelids                 spade full of dirt
               the only invitation             layered around roses
                    offered                     beauty inherent

poet Kelley Jean White
                         laconia, New Hampshire

         Unable to sleep
         stumbling to the window, blinking--
         first fireflies!

hoping for a meadow
I believe I'll stop 
mowing my lawn

    t. kilgore splake
                 Calumet, Michigan

    don't watch feel
                                        denying creative wisdom
   haiga, by Angelee                 poet should show not tell

"Mister Editor, it's your turn to choose a few poems!" says Tama...
Noble assistant editors, let's go to the first print issue of
bear creek haiku, way back in 1991...
"Well, ok," sighs Frosty, "even if you didn't have Tama and I
all the long way back then..."

                            poet Denver Stull

ragweed in bloom                            planting spring bulbs
   along the country road. . .                   the old dog 
      the old dog sneezes                           finds his bone

          poet Don Wentworth   Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

November Man

          Second-story window sill -                   

          carton of milk, half a 

          sandwich- a hand


                                     The lilt of a morning songbird

                                     threads light into

                                     the weave of night

Noble assistants! We need to end this post,
it is long past time for our treats. . .
"And our belly rubs!," insists Frosty!

see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen

(We love you, Judith!)

your poetry can be mailed to

                              bear creek haiku
                              PO Box 596
                              Longmont, CO
                      (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to (and/or) (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US, 
       that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

Best to all our creative endeavors!

Friday, May 18, 2018

poets David Sermersheim, Peggy Dugan French, r. soos, Harry T. Roman, toma rosen, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Teresinka Pereira, artist Beatrice Gaudy, Steve Ausherman, S. L. Peeran, as always, thank you, Angelee Deodhar!

From assistant editor Tama,
"Mister Editor wants all of us
to go camping!"
Assistant editor Frosty replies,
"Distract him with poetry, Tama- the last time we went camping, we lost two lucky horseshoes and ran out of kitty treats!!"

OK, ok, noble assistants!- We'll just save our camping trip for another time, we do have poems that must be shared...

poet David Sermersheim
            Deep River, Connecticut

          13 lines

          A Leaf Descends



Peggy Dugan French 
            Cardiff, California

The Gift

In good times & bad
The safe haven
That warms the heart always 
Even on the darkest days


                        poet r. soos   joshua tree, california

  years                                    coyote

  without permission                    sings with silent moon
  crouch somewhere deep inside      dreams of running between stars
  waiting to jump out                  stalks rabbit tonight

  wide                                    lovers

  the day overhead                     kettledrum desert
  fills each silence forever            announcing dreams and instinct
  for a night of stars                  eat the wind and rain

                   poet Harry T. Roman   East Orange, New Jersey

                    kitchen windowsill       scare crows chat
                    green tomatoes           in pale moonlight
                    blushing                   stories largely the same

                                  Working warm soil
                                  repairing winter damage
                                  prayers for guidance
                                  moist on his lips.

       poet toma rosen   Mt Baldy Zen Center, California

                    alley behind Kermit's bar--

                    old raccoon
                    white muzzle
                    lots of hard miles
                    gimps on his rear-right
                    fair share of dog scars
                    and a useless opal eye--

                    toss him
                    better part of a hotdog.

                    grey'd gent doesn't budge
                    good eye riveted on me
                    welted black nose sniffing
                    that meaty aroma...

                    bon appetite  good fella
                    bon appetite...

             poet Judith Partin-Nielsen   Longmont, Colorado

                       Migrations #1
                                                    In Memoriam
                                                    José Angel Alfano Solana

                         We crossed over the border
                         I won't say how    
                         and why can I say of
                         freezing desert nights
                         black sky blazing stars
                         then searing, burning sun
                         tearing into flesh
                         relentless, relentless
                         the walking, and fear
                         then- - - - - - -running, running
                         as sand clouds appear
                         against the far sky
                         running, running- - -and then
                         I lost you and Juan and
                         the girl running, running
                         and falling face down
                         breathing sand and
                         dreaming, dreaming of naranjas and
                         water, rain falling and
                         phantoms unfurling like giant
                         sails across the desert floor
                         and the pounding, pounding of
                         ocean waves in my ears
                         and then - - - - - the face, the face
                         of El Senõr

     poet Teresinka Pereira
                   Ottawa Hills, Ohio


     The tree has freedom
     without looking
     at the world
     But the sky can see it
     in the storm,
     and the wind
     may disturb its peace.
     I look at its shade,                   
     at the green leaf,                              artist Beatrice Gaudy
     and I think,
     there is the perfection 
     in existence!

poet Steve Ausherman
           Albuquerque, New Mexico

         As Light Fades
(Embudito Canyon, Sandia Mts)

after the world has squeezed me, rung me out,
confused and baffled and beaten and scorned,
I walk into the trails of the foothills to renew.

past cactus and sage and stone and pinyon pine,
my feet carry me on the dirt trail higher and higher.

watching the city recede into the distance is to feel
as if I am rising above troubles and traffic, worries
and the way that work-a-day life can beat me down.

past deer prints and seed and flowers and brush,
I hear the calls of hidden Scaled Quail rising.

at the stony parapets and boulder fields of the trails
of the lower Sandias are a place to feel renewed,
a place to feel small, a place to feel revitalized.

past low areas where I witness trickles of high mt.
snowfall roll downward in gravity's eternal pull.

after the world has squeezed me, rung me out,
confused and baffled and beaten and scorned,
I walk into the trails of the foothills to renew.

                    poet S. L. Peeran   Bengaluru, India

                    ALL WILL DISSOLVE

                    Love calls for mutual adjustment 
                    And deep respect for each other's views.
                    Love is total submission to GREAT MASTER
                    And love is to please HIM
                    In love there is no grievance, grouse or complain.
                    Just accept whatever is happening around cheerfully;
                    With ageing body withers and dissolves
                    And one need to accept it.
                    The creaky bones, the tasteless tongue, 
                    The troubling bowels; the forgetfulness, the lethargy,

                    The anxiety, the sleeplessness
                    Are signs of ageing and witheringness.

                    I am also ageing day by day
                    Reaching the horizons
                    The rainbows are visible on dark clouds
                    The cold freezing hands are about to touch me.
                    The past events corrodes my mind
                    With deep regrets and sorrows binding me.
                    My soul utters sighs and yearns for release.
                    With creaky bones and blotted stomach.
                    I yearn for total peace, tranquility and solace.
                    Free from jeers, insults, worldly burdens.
                    Throw away the heavy Atlas on the shoulders.
                    Unborn tomorrow, dead yesterday
                    Why worry about it when this moment be sweet.

                    Let me have sweet moments free from all.
                    No more anxieties, no more headaches.
                    No more burdens, no more worries.
                    No more questionings, no more pains.
                    No more injuries, no more complains.

                    Let all be gone, bygone be bygone.
                    O Soul, return to abode of peace
                    Leave this decaying body
                    And sorrowful world and greedy
                    And complaining dirty dozens in the mind.
                    Throw away the baggage on the shoulders.

                    With lasting love and memories.
                    Let progeny live in peace and happiness.


see you in a moment

ayaz daryl nielsen


"and assistant editors!," state Frosty and Tama

your poetry can be mailed to

                              bear creek haiku
                              PO Box 596
                              Longmont, CO
                                    (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to (and/or)
         (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US, 
       that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

Best to all our creative endeavors!

Sunday, May 6, 2018

bear creek haiku, poets/artists: Dennis Rhodes, Peggy Dugan French, Kelly Sauvage Angel, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Angelee Deodhar, phil wick, t. kilgore splake, Stephanie Hiteshew, Cathy Porter, A. A. Veitch, and Carl Mayfield!


assistant editor Tama, insisting, 
"We need a post of our poets 
and their poems, Mister Editor!"

"With lots of kitties!" states 
assistant editor Frosty

Yes, noble assistants!  
And, here we go... 

                           Dennis Rhodes   Naples, Florida

The kinder a person you are                  She wrote her #
the finer a poet you are.                       on the paper tablecloth--
                                                    a splendid blind date.


Peggy Dugan French
                Cardiff, California


nothing else
like you
to the moon and back
for you
ups and downs, twists and turns
beside you
joys and sorrows shared 
with you     
sunrises and sunsets
next to you       
today, another anniversary
close to you

       Frosty: "We be purring!                                   
       Kitty poems and art 
       from Kelly Sauvage Angel,
       Madison, Wisconsin!"...

    always the misfit
    the one-eyed calico
    nestled in my lap

                 first light
                 the old tabby waits
                 at the bed’s edge

       dropping beats
       on every measure
       twelve-bar blues

                       shaking snow
                       from the treetops
                       robin wings

Judith Partin-Nielsen
                Longmont, Colorado

     closing the circle

     closing the circle
     of my life
     diameter once as
     vast as the horizon
     now searching for
     the radius of
     that blessed path
     leading to the
     heart of Everything

"Our deepest happy mews to Angelee Deodhar for kitty haiga!,"
state Frosty and Tama- and!

                        phil wick  Empire Colorado          

                        TK- begs the question...

                            poet's ashes scattered
                            remote stream waters
                            do rainbows mind 
                            detritus on their roof

                                              (Tama: TK, t. kilgore splake)

                         t. kilgore splake   Calumet, Michigan

                autumn                        writer's understanding

                winds rustling trees          quiet serious thinker

                scattering leaves              searching for reality

                like poet's ghost              seeking creative self

                dark night shadows          discovering artistic freedom

                his forgotten poems          writing great new poems

                lost in stars                   ignoring peer pressures

                                                 telling others no


    Stephanie Hiteshew   
                       Columbia, Maryland

Eyes                              Property

Eyes,                              Nobody 
open as the sky,                 owns the
mouth of the sea.                moon.

     Cathy Porter
                         Omaha, Nebraska

paper trails
along the sidewalk
clean up in aisle Earth

                         one by one
                         the streetlights wink
                         at the corner boys

                          A. A. Veitch   Woodstock, Georgia

                      "Daughter Child"

                      When she blinked her eyes
                              she used her whole face to do it.
                      With her dress swooshing and swaying,
                              as she twirls in dance,
                              grace and dignity now cling to her.
                      The eyes of your daughter now no
                              longer child-like, has become a
                              science experiment to closely observe,
                              watch enthralled of, and die utterly
                      content of the job you finished.

Carl Mayfield
           Rio Rancho, New Mexico

. . .even so
has a chance
at compassion
because the heart
can be broken--
but who can wait that long!

noble assistants, friends and poets, thank you!

see you in a moment

your poetry can be mailed to

                              bear creek haiku
                              PO Box 596
                              Longmont, CO
                                    (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to (and/or)
         (include postal address)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from within the US, 
       that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

Best to all our creative endeavors!