Friday, October 7, 2022

Poets!... Pawel Markiewicz, Carl Mayfield, Jane Stuart, John McDonald, Stephanie Hiteshew, Sarah Mahina Calvello, Carl Mayfield, Brautigan/Wick, Judith Partin Nielsen, and, Tuharam!...

From noble assistant editors...
"Patience, Mister Editor! Poems for our next post will soon be here!"...

   poet Pawel Markiewicz, Bielsk, Poland...
       the first autumn rain
       spider's heart in rhythm of drops
       nature awoken

   poet Carl Mayfield, Rio Rancho, New Mexico...
           black-headed grosbeak:
                        fellow traveler
                       passing through

   poet Jane Stuart, Flatwoods, Kentucky...
The White House
 My grandmother's porch
 stacks of empty flower pots
 saucers full of rain
   water for the hosts plants
    stretching in the sun

                   In The Yard
                    The well bucket fills
                    with quiet water
                    Rain soaks its swollen sides
                    A dead mosquito
                    floats upside down

       Scots poet John McDonald, Edinburgh, Scotland...
   his vaccination date:       his jab date;
   Good Friday               Guid Friday
   ...the body pierced         ...the book thirst

           birdsong -       burdsang
           never             nivver
           a wrong note    a wrong note

        poet Stephanie Hiteshew, Baltimore, Maryland...
     White moon
     large at the mountaintop
     hovers over the lone pier.

                 Ink and stone
                 scroll left at shrine
                 covered by centuries of moss.

   poet Sarah Mahina Calvello
                 San Francisco, California...
    Fresh cranberries
    And a breakfast muffin
    That's brilliant!

                    Vitamin C
                    Followed by a nightly nap
                    Routine of solace

     poet Richard Brautigan   California time-traveler
              The sea is like
              an old nature poet
              who died of a
              heart attack in a
              public latrine.
              His ghost still
              haunts the urinals.
              At night he can
              be heard walking
              around barefoot
              in the dark.
              Somebody stole
              his shoes.

"Hummm, Mister Editor!... It now appears to be that your assistants need to choose the next few poems for this blog post..."

poet Carl Mayfield, Rio Rancho, New Mexico...
      gazing at the stars
                 mother ship
          beneath my feet
                   great horned owl
                                his call
                       lifting night's wing

            in the crow's throat

      poet Judith Partin Nielsen, Longmont, Colorado...
          Each Day
      each day a poem
      breeze ruffling my hair
      a glimpse of mountains
      behind floating cloud silhouettes
      afternoon sun through the window
      falling across the empty pages
            waiting on my desk

Thank you, noble assistant editors!  And, we'll end with this poem from Tuharam!...

      That Angel Talked Like a Sailor
 What part of heaven did she come from?
       That angel talked like a sailor
           and she was dressed 
  I can't even repeat the things she said
 or picture again the shape of her breasts.
         Though I know one thing:
             My fear of dying has

 see you in a moment...

and, you can mail your poetry to:
                bear creek haiku
                PO Box 596
                Longmont, CO
                (SASE's are appreciated)

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

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