Saturday, June 29, 2019

poets r soos and his Cholla Needles, Judith Partin-Nielsen with a touch of Cindy Rosmus and Yellow Mama, George Held, t kilgore splake, Pogo, Stephanie Hiteshew, Vernon Waring, pl. wick, and, a touch of Cathy Porter!

                                                            
with each purr, pleas for more...
             poetry!

from poet, author, editor r soos,
           Joshua Tree, California...

voice

you pick the flowers
from the garden of my heart
proud of your singing

    poets 

    hunt through the night sky
    for brand new stars to exploit
    another new song

            simple

            let the poem tear
            serenity from silence
            unravel its dream




and, our heartfelt thank you, mr. soos!, who just released, through his Cholla Needles Press, a collection of poetry 
        from our beloved 
Judith Partin-Nielsen titled
         'breathing sand'
    (www.chollaneedles.com)


from poet Judith Partin-Nielsen, Longmont, Colorado...  a poem of which Cindy Rosmus, writer and editor of our most favorite on-line home, Yellow Mama, states, "This Courtney Love poem is one of THE best poems I've ever read, in my life!" (poem is also in 'breathing sand')


poet Judith Partin-Nielsen, Longmont Colorado...


            Poetry Everywhere
                                 for Courtney Love

           "I wrote poetry everywhere
            on the walls, on his shirt
            I wrote poetry everywhere"                             
            I couldn't stop                                        
            at night on the sheets in our bed
            in my sleep in my dreams
            I wrote poetry everywhere
            on my face the war paint
            (stirring up all kinds of trouble)
            I wrote poetry on the table cloth
            in Jax's Fish House
            a haiku surrounded by wine
            glasses, white napkins, red brick
            walls, green fish - tiny dots of
            blue light hanging from the 
            ceiling - Nick Forrester eating sushi
            at the next table
            I wrote poetry everywhere
            I wrote poetry in books
            that didn't belong to me, past due,
            checked in, checked out,
            on posters at the coffee 
            house, poetry notes on golden 
            peeling bathroom mirrors
            surprise tanka on the
            toilet seat
            I wrote poetry everywhere
            I wrote poetry on the stairs
            seven steps to the landing
            turn left.  Six more to your room.
            Listening to the blues, Muddy Waters
            wailing, sitting on the floor
            eating dates, drinking white wine.
            I wrote poetry everywhere.
            You made a pass, I didn't notice
            better to keep writing poetry
            everywhere
            Flat on my face, flat on my
            ass, flat on my back
            just keep writing
            poetry everywhere


poet and friend George Held, New York, New York...        

      Pie

         This is a poem on pie,
         Whose pleasures none can deny,

         Whether of fruit, nut, or meat
         Pie's a delectable treat.

         Mom baked apple and cherry,
         Peach, pecan, and blueberry;

         Both in and out of season,
         Her pies are good reason

         We bless her memory,
         Her faults just ephemery.

         So sing a paean to pie,
         Whose pleasures none can deny.


5 AM,
an oriole singing our song --
the waning moon


                 The Panthenon

                          Your ruins,
                          still standing

                          for us
                          to take 

                          a selfie
                          at


poet t. kilgore splake, Calumet, Michigan...

               wildflowers exploding

                bright spring colors                  writer's block over

                 magic of creation                  moving beyond edge

                                                       alive in creative flow


                                 leaving footprints

                                 on wilderness trail
         
                                 forgotten pleasure          

                                 just taking a walk



            

     
from noble assistant editor Tama,
'Ohhh, my soul reaches out to embrace this kitty...'   
                      
from Pogo, drowsin' on an Okeechobee log...

            slowly   anxiously the
            aged silver-cloud tom
            searches throughout
            the house.
            his littermate--
            last faithful companion
              is no longer here. . .

            . . .hope
            finally dissolving into reality
            he resigns himself--
            sagging into a
            sun-pattern of amber warmth
            shuffling its way across  the

            now   lonely rug. . .


poet Stephanie Hiteshew, Columbia, Maryland...

                    Morning Glory                        Shoes

                    Morning                                The mud,
                    glory                                    caked to my
                    for this day.                            shoe.
                    A                                         The other,
                    thunderstorm                           entrenched
                    later.                                     in a clump,
                                                               fudge-like,
                                                               and stuck.





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

     LAST NIGHT                                    


     The wild man               
     that last night I dreamed          
     now sleeps 
     to dream of me


                               Silent Protest
                               In church pews I am quiet

                               In libraries I'm hushed
                               At grave sites I am silent
                               In theaters I am shushed

                               In hospital halls I whisper
                               The epitome of poise
                               But frankly what I'd welcome now
                               Is some pure unadulterated NOISE!


poet pl. wick   somewhere --dreaming of the road again...

                               for my neighbor foxes
                               a late-hour snack--
                               remaining salmon and
                                  some added MeowMix
                               left by the downed spruce...

                               ...in no time at all
                               pairs of glowing eyes
                               blink back
                                  in the lantern beam


poet Cathy Porter, Omaha, Nebraska...       early morning downpour
                                                    the blue jay in my yard
                                                    unfazed








Kitty Kali, stating,
     'May all be well, and,
we'll all enjoy our special treats!'





see you in a moment...


            

and, 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 

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





Friday, June 21, 2019

poets Cathy Porter, r soos, t. kilgore splake (a touch of Thoreau), Paula Yup, pl. wick, S. L. Peeran, Peggy Dugan French and Rumi's 'Friday Quote', and, Roberta Beach Jacobson...

Assistant editor's Tama, Frosty, and Kitty Kali, perched on our desk, mewing in unison:  'Poetry, Mister Editor!  Poetry from and for all within a new post, Mister Editor!'


Yes! Well-mewed, noble assistants... let's begin with our longtime friend,

                        poet Cathy Porter, Omaha Nebraska...

                 early morning rain             the last piece of pizza
                 the blue jay in my yard        untouched
                 unfazed                          frist date jitters

                 another refill                    the cat asleep
                 without asking                    on the dog
                 the waitress knows              obedience class
                 I'm running on empty          success

Kitty Kali, stating, 'Lucky dog!  And, the creativity of a favorite poet of mine, mister cat-lover hisself, poet and editor r soos!'


poet r soos, Cholla Needles Press, Joshua Tree, California...

     time                                                                   art

     children quietly                                   the canvas becomes             
     draw picture after picture               a life apart from the artist
     in their own language                               capable of breath


                       strangers pass

                       touching dreams from the night before
                       interior thoughts stuck on circular routes
                       looking for islands to stop and relax upon
                       arching over cranium covered highways
                       bumping along with no chance of peace
                       waving at each other with hand motions
                       with a strange desire to step on shore
                       arms around waists fingers touching




poet t. kilgore splake, Calumet, Michigan...

             understanding                         freedom

             walden pond wisdom                 "leaves of grass"
             thoreau's beliefs                        walt's powerful visions
             ignore other 'musts'                    able to live
             government demands                  beyond other rules
                                                        free butterfly floating
                                                        over society





poet and artist Paula Yup,  
                  Spokane, Washington...

I FINISH THAT LETTER

Livestrong  at  the  Y
eighteen published poems
in small rags
250 total since college days
forty years of steady
submissions
mountains of rejections
Thanksgiving in Alaska
a snowy reunion
the year unwinds
a ball of yarn
more  like a  mitten  knit
than  a  sweater  made
and countless 
trips  to  the  laundromat


poet pl. wick   somewhere -- dreaming of the road again

even the most
delicate of filaments
is capable of
brilliant illumination

lacking only   a simple
  flip of the switch

         ~  ~  ~
            true love for a dog
            transcends
               any chewed shoe



          
          poet S. L. Peeran, Bengalure, India...


           BURNT MY CANDLE

           I dug and dug in parching deserts
           Till I reached the streams below
           I filled my bucket of love
           With cool waters to quench my beloved’s thirst.
           I cultivated dry and parching lands
           Irrigated them with my sweat and tears
           I picked the choicest fragrant roses
           The sweetest fruits for my beloved to taste.
           I wove and wove a finest cloth,
           With designs and decorations of various hues.
           Bedecked with jewels and precious stones
           To present as gifts for my beloved to wear.
           I yearned and yearned with hopes and longings.
           Burnt my candle of life for my beloved’s grace.



from poet and editor Peggy Dugan French, 'Friday Quote'...




poet Roberta Beach Jacobson, Indianola, Indiana...

             migrating snow geese              cool afternoon breeze
             against watercolor sky             scatters petals
             painted by nature                   of last garden rose









Kitty Kali, stating,
     'May all be well, and,
we'll all enjoy our special treats!'





see you in a moment...


           

and, 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 

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




Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Roberta Beach Jacobson, Dennis Rhodes, Pawel Markiewicz, pl. wick, Raymond Flory, normal, Paula Yup, and, Diane Webster...

                                               
Noble assistant editors, mewing:          
"Mister Editor, these, our posts!
We bee poetry!  We need to express
beeing one within the hive of our
beeloved poets and their poems!"





So true,
noble assistant editors-
this is your post!
Bee about it...


     


from Roberta Beach Jacobson, Indianola, Indiana...

           within each purr
           cat shares
           some of his nine lives                hushed cornfield in May
                                                     red-tailed hawk
                 cats wait at harbor               glides over cornfield
                 as boat returns
                 with days catch


poet Dennis Rhodes, Naples, Florida...

    I live inside my head
    with a warm, snugly bed,
    a mountain of books
    and a goldfish named Fred.               Just live.  Just show up.
                                                    Always keep a pen handy.
    If you ask politely                          Poetry will come.
    I will write you a poem
    straight from my head,
    my beloved home.




and, noble assistant editor
Kitty Kali, 'If this post is to
bee, it's up to me!'




Kitty Kali's poetic selections...



from poet Pawel Markiewicz, Tiszaujvaros, Hungary...

                    silence of morning
                    a flock of storks sitting
                    on beloved campground         dew and dawn
                                                         a stork sitting down
fly and butterfly                                      eating my dog's food
pride must be forgotten
friendship in nature           a kind butterfly
                                  I never quarrel with time
                                  flying through the meadow



poet pl. wick, Empire, Colorado...

        ...and in the early morning
        we found   you'd
        left us your old tired body
        wrapped lovingly in its soft
        cloud-silver coat.   eyes
        peacefully closed--sleeping.
        you needed to journey on.
        and choosing
        the night's accepting quiet--
        out through window
        0n silent feet--a farewell purr
        to the flower garden
        leaping lightly up
        onto the brick wall behind
        the hollyhocks.
        in first buttercup light
        you no doubt rested there
        awhile in
        the gathering warmth
        of the new day--
        and are now   on your way
        free of aches and concern
        along your carefree path
        off  on another adventure...

        vaya con Dios   mi amigo.
          until we meet again...



poet Raymond Flory, South Bend, Indiana...

Teddy bear rests
On Red, White and Blue blanket
Waits for hero's return.

    attic magazine          boy and clown        Park bench newspaper    
    musty                    send smiles            Headlines fade                    
    with memories          to photographer       With setting sun.



                                                             
     poet normal, Saugerties, New Jersey...

     beautiful lady
     ascending from the calyx of this rose
     reaching high
     to touch the sun
     to touch the creator.
     hold the light in your fragile fingers
     caress the warmth,
     sunrays, stiff as arrows
     find their mark.
     spring rises
     exhaling her breath
     into the world.


                   poet Paula Yup, Spokane, Washington...

                   SHE DRAGS A BAG DOWN THE STAIRS

                   as I go up wearing short shorts
                   the aqua blue ones
                   which she loves
                   girls shorts she says
                   do you like the color I ask
                   my sister-in-law
                   I'm not sure about the color
                   they're quite nice
                   she compliments me
                   as I go up the stairs


poet Diane Webster, Delta, Colorado...

Crabapple tree                                          PASTURE BELOW
blooms scent                    
and bees -                    On mountain road in the pasture below
Grandmas perfume          the cottonwood tree stands alone  
remembered                  shaped like a hot air balloon
                                anxious for flight while cattle
                                herd around expectantly.







Kitty Kali, stating,
     'May all bee well, and,
we'll all enjoy our special treats!'





see you in a moment...


             

and, 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 

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