Naked Gardening Day!... poets Sarah Mahina Calvello, Vernon Waring, Cathy Porter, pl. wick, Teresinka Pereira, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Patricia Carragon, and, Valley View Hot Springs!

assistant editor's Frosty and Tama!...                        

"The month of May! Mewtifull warmth and
sunshine for kitties and noble beings! This,
from friends at Valley View Hot Springs!. . ."                                

poet Sarah Mahina Calvello, San Francisco...

Words unspoken
Sometimes you need that sweetness
When light turns into morning sun.

                                                          time to make
                                    a change
                                                          Time and moonlight
                                    are both reflective
                                    To
                                    the bendable experience


from assistant editor Kitty Kali...

poet Vernon Waring, King of Prussia, Pennsylvania...

Heaven-Sent

          You are beauty
          You are light
          You're our morning
          And our night
          And you climb into our arms
          And we hold you oh so tight
          And you climb into our hearts
          With a love that beckons bright

          You're the answer to our prayers
          With a smile sweet and true
          God understood our every word
          That's why he sent us you


poet Cathy Porter, Omaha, Nebraska...

             robins and crickets
             songs for the summer
             on repeat

                                           the old dog sleeps
                                           across the bed
                                           human on edge


poet pl. wick, Empire, Colorado...

                   notes from
                        a tin-cup journey...

                      down around the curve
                      past the RR crossing-                          
                      feed and farm supply
                      smell of grain  gear oil                      

                      rattl'ng rolls
                      of galvanized fence wire.
                      furrow discs  spreaders &
                      iron farm implements
                      mantled over with hay-dust.

                      box of peeping baby chicks
                      warming
                         under gamboge lights


                     blowing in from the plains
                     tempting winds keep
                         whisperin'  in my ear
                     once again
                     telling me--
                     close my eyes and feel
                     the rumble of those 18'ers
                     the big-tires rollin'...rollin'
                        on  down the interstate...


poet Teresinka Pereira, Toledo, Ohio...

          WINDOW

          Across the street
          looking from the purses shop
          I see the window of my house
          wide trees framing its glass.
          This was my favorite
          place, when as a child,
          I would stay by the window
          watching what was
          going on in the street.
          My home was easy to find,
          right at the Avenue
          Cristóvão Colombo, 336
          in Belo Horizonte, MG
          Brazil.  It is still there,
          while I left forever
          looking for my independence
          in a voluntary exile.
          But I miss that house!

poet Raymond Flory, South Bend, Indiana...

                Sunday night rain
                Wet shoes
                on city sidewalks.                  Park bench newspaper   
                                                       Headlines fade
                                                       With setting sun.


poet Judith Partin-Nielsen, Longmont, Colorado...

wanting to go home
longing toward that place
now only remembered

still, I see the horizon


poet Patricia Carragon, Brooklyn, New York...

                                   the singing bowl
                                   cannot compete
                                   with the purring cat

and, from bear creek haiku assistant editor's Frosty, Tama, and Kali:
         "Happy May Day Gardening!  Don't get sunburnt nor frostbite!"

       

see you in a moment

                                             

ayaz daryl nielsen

you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA   

                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayaz@gmail.com and/or 

                  darylayaz@me.com (include postal address)

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

                                    that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

purring kitty post... the poetry book, 'a nameless stream', by ayaz daryl nielsen, graciously presented by poet/ed. r.soos via his Cholla Needles Press!!...

                       

this post by bear creek haiku's noble  
assistant editors, Frosty, Tama, and! 
Kitty Kali: "kind readers, a post,
created by purring kitties, about--
our editor, ayaz daryl nielsen!!...
Mister Editor's mewtiful selection of
poetry, published by poet/editor r. soos,
through his Cholla Needles Press!

(Cholla Needles Arts and Literary Library)"

"and, here it is!  'a nameless stream', by ayaz daryl nielsen, 
one-hundred pages filled with the special essence of hundreds of his poems!"

from Kitty Kali...
"please go to
https://www.chollaneedles.com, 
the pocket/purse-sized book is available for $5 plus some postage...
or, simply, go to ChollaNeedles.com"
(orders of $35 or more are shipped for free)


"(also!  if you were to contact ayaz daryl, and ask for a copy, he could just send you one!)"

"here are a very few of the many..."

                   small things
                   their own story               shifting wind
                   a worn trowel                the coyote's raised leg
                   proof she loved              motionless
                   her garden

 Lunar Caress

 gentle solace                        the sway of
  for all that's                            her hemline
   undefined                                 as she walks
 within us just
    as we are
   in the holy,                              the sound of
   magnificent                                 my new leather jacket
   battleground                                   as I breathe
    of earthen
     existence


breakfast with the soothsayer                                    

and she predicts "this day will be cold,                          

cold as a once-revered saber buried
within a forgotten battlefield's debris,
a saber capable of transmuting ill-will
and evil intent into an intrinsic realization
of the sacredness within all existence. . .
and this saber. . ."
pausing, she grasps my arm. . .
"it can, it must be found, found and
wielded by hero and heroine, working
together, as one. . . and you and I"
she states firmly, squeezing my arm
"it's up to us. . . it's us"

the steaming coffee cup,
halfway to my lips, suspended
in silent, fertile morning light. . .


      prepared

      and if the night hawk
      calls my name
      I will answer,
      yes, I will answer

      and if the horned owl
      calls my name,
      I will answer,
      yes, I will answer

      and if old crow
      calls my name,
      I will laugh, but, yes,
      I will answer

      yes, thankful
      they know me
      by name


"also!, 'kissing the stitches", a 33-page poetry chapbook of ayaz daryl's poetry, has been released by Scars Publications...
available in free PDF format at http://scars.tv/chapbooks (if ordered through Amazon in print form, the cost is about $10...)
or, you could, if need be, ask us for a copy..."

             autumn's roses...
             and I thought I                   a graying world
             knew all                           colors of our unfolding
             that's needed                      touched by changing times

see you in a moment

                                             

ayaz daryl nielsen

you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA   

                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayaz@gmail.com and/or 

                  darylayaz@me.com (include postal address)

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

                                    that's ok, too (again, include postal address)

William Keckler, Pawel Markiewicz, Martha Christina, Jane Stuart, Carl Mayfield, Rex Sexton, toma rosen, Christ and the unknown, windows left open within formlessness: our Happy Spring!

        poet William Keckler, Steelton, Pennsylvania...

 talking to myself

 or to fireflies               nothing to say

 no difference               and saying it well

                                full moon

         cemetery

         the finish line             cat batting

         keeps moving              my pen around the floor

                                       my poem inside

               poet Pawel Markiewicz, Poland...

   the flock of wild geese
along with them winds full of
       dreamy existence

                                         the unique wild goose
                                           it's coming into my
                                        most beloved homeland


                the flock of wild geese
               springtide like philosophy
                 from the morning star


   a flock of wild geese
fate joined them forever in
      the key of being


                               the geese-flock above
                             a rural boy watches them
                                under morning stars


              poet Martha Christina, Bristol, Rhode Island...

              EARLY APRIL

              Easy to mistake
              clumps of snow                      IN REMEMBRANCE
              for gulls, sturdy
              sentinels facing                      Rescued cat sleeping            
              the salt pond                         in the sunny window
              and this Spring's                     of her new home.
              first pair of swans.


         poet Jane Stuart, Greenup, Kentucky...

Medusa--                            

a dark memory
   tangled cords
   of silken light
   falling on her hair

                          Inside the barn
                          an owl sleeps
                          outside, winter rain

Wisps of golden light
fill the sky when fireflies rise
on breaths of summer wind


          poet Carl Mayfield,
                   Rio Rancho, New Mexico...

      dry saltbush
         catching a ride
      with everyone

                   early dusk--
                          the arroyo
                      filling with darkness

desert fencepost
               aiming
        for the moon


               lone siren brings it all back




poet/artist/friend Rex Sexton, 'Desert Flower'...

poet Toma Rosen, Mt. Baldy Zen Center, California...

war ravens in full battle-cry
skirmish tree to tree
engaging the hawk
while--                                      early morning   lounging
seven-stripe chipmunks                   alongside a secluded stream--
oblivious to the fray                      an ouzel perches near      
scour through ground-duff              just above
   collecting winter stores.               the rushing tumult
                                                to sing his burbling aria.

                                              how sad  my friend
                                              decided to stay back at camp

                                                 and sleep. . .


Christ and the unknown... the Notre-Dame Cathedral

    mint-flavored evening
    as rose-colored clouds unfold             gentle Spring rain
    the taste of twilight                          evening upon the
                                                     calm pool of us

          within formlessness
          contracts between                           slightly overdone
          poet and words                           midnight in Colorado
                                                       feeling just plain right

see you in a moment

                                             

ayaz daryl nielsen

you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA   

                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayaz@gmail.com and/or 

                  darylayaz@me.com (include postal address)

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

                                    that's ok, too (again, include postal address)


Happy Easter from bear creek's assistant editors!

We love's you all!

         Frosty, Tama, and Kitty Kali!


                    and our room
                    within love
                    so vast
                    our thoughts can heal there

pl. wick, Juanita Torrence-Thompson, Ed Markowski, Rex Sexton, James B. Peters, r. soos, Peggy Dugan French, Angelus Silesius, Judith Partin-Nielsen, Teresinka Pereira, and, Raymond Flory...

                          poet/editor pl. wick, Empire, Colorado...

                                                                       

                      please stroke my forehead

                      look sure into my eyes   and

                      know this final plea--

                      for you have been the

                      truest friend

                        a dog could wish for.

                      the shadow of finality   now

                      being close upon my heels...

                      when

                        I have breathed my last

                      all I ask  condemn me not to

                      dark and merciless earth--

                      instead  take me

                      to the high spring meadow

                      beyond the pasture gate

                      and let my dust

                      run free with the winds

                      to vigilantly guard you

                        on your journey and

                      race beside our old pickup

                      soaking in

                        it's roaring exuberance--

                      transcending this sunset--

                      reliving...reliving...

                        our lifetime of adventures

                      yet coming   always to rest

                      at your warm

                        and loving hearth...

                           a loved dog's farewell request

    poet Juanita Torrence-Thompson, Bayside, New York...

                     HOME HAIKU

                                 Home:  scatter of bees

                                 Loon sounds.  Iridescent now.

                                 All frozen in time.

artist Ed Markowski, Chicago, Illinois...

            poet/artist/friend Rex Sexton

               Hello.                                 assistant editor Frosty...
            In a word                              "We miss you, Rex..."
            Friendship.                              

poet James B. Peters, Cottontown, Tennessee...

EACH YEAR      Is a gift
                   God has given
                   Heaven knows
                   The wayward days of youth.
                   Years have flown
                   Each with its memories,
                   Are counted in.
                   Reflections of my wife.
                   She of more than fifty years--
                   it is she who made my life.

poet/editor r. soos, Joshua Tree, California...

        direct

     linger by the sea
     with arms raised to the music                    telling      
     conducting the waves                 
                                                        there is a story                                living                                        a legend of happiness
                                                        as the sun rises
     fallen music swells      
     on the dance floor of my dreams                              poets
     I swirl and sing loud
                                                        we paint hidden seas
                                                        of memory in poems
                                                        pictured in our books

             poet/editor Peggy Dugan French, Cardiff, California...

             evening fell

             then

             the magic

             ****

                                                    summer adventure

                                                    hide-and-go-seek

                                                    among the corn stalks

                                                    ****

             summer evening

             the tassels of corn

             fill the horizon

             ****

                                                    summer campfire

                                                    our old memories

                                                    in the smoke

                                                    ****

    from Angelus Silesius, 17th century German priest...

                                    

           "The rose has no why: it blossoms because it blossoms.

        It pays no attention to itself, nor does it ask if anyone sees"

                   (heartfelt thank you, Judith, for Angelus's quote...)

poet 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

                     

poet/editor Teresinka Pereira, Ottawa Hills, Ohio...

                       IN THE MIRROR

      

                 The light comes

                 from a sharp mirror

                 which reflects

                 the size of silence.

                 Suddenly a storm

                 invades the time

                 and the images

                 become a procession

                 of verses between

                 the lines of the neck:

                 latent reality!


poet and editor Raymond Flory, South Bend, Indiana...

                A late day in May. . .          Winds of March
                silent sidewalks                waltzing with the willows--
                surrender to bare feet.        winter's last dance.


    Tiger lily                          Humming bird
    in august afternoon--           outside my window--
    kissed by a monarch.            so near, and yet, so far.

see you in a moment...                                 

ayaz daryl nielsen

                                           

you can mail your poetry to:

                bear creek haiku

                PO Box 596

                Longmont, CO

                80502   

                USA   

                (SASE's are appreciated)

From other than the USA, email to darylayaz@me.com

(include postal address in email)

Last!  If you choose to send poetry via email from 

within the US, that's ok, too 

(again, include postal address)

    

          noble assistant editors

          Frosty and Tama, stating,

          "and belly rubs!"