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!

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