Monday, May 1, 2017

Colorful Haiku

Welcome to the May 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month's theme is Colorful Haiku.

Poems have been received from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Netherlands, Nigeria, Poland, Singapore, Switzerland, Turkey, the U. K., Ukraine, and the United States


blue —
the sea saturated
with so much sky
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

pathway a red sea of tulips
    - Adrian Bouter

a black book
on the wooden table
with dried flowers
    - Adrian Bouter

how green the peas
of spring
and of renewal
    - ai li

you call off your engagement
texting him
wearing yellow
    - ai li

in this house of emptiness
every piece of furniture
brown
    - ai li

photographing
a man photographing
a bright red sign
    - Alan Bern

blasting through red lights
in a shiny black SUV
late for the wake
    - Alan Bern

on the front windshield
eleven purple blossoms
on the back window three
    - Alan Bern

fence painting
a wish to be the green
of dragons
    - Alan Summers

spring skies
and a slide guitar
the purple tulips
    - Alan Summers

red roofs
four cats in love
full moon
    - Angela Giordano

young artist
tattooed body
purple hair
    - Angela Giordano

out in the garden
orange pumpkins
crows on wires
    - Angela Giordano

parrots and urchins screech over green mangoes
    - Angelee Deodhar

red light
gray birds drape
the power lines
    - Anna Cates

one green tomato
still clings to the vine
October drizzle
    - Anna Cates

the black sky
a flight of bats —
figs fall
    - Antonio Mangiameli 

grey sky
his answer
neither yes nor no
    - Aparna Pathak

train whistle
a blue jay
announces the cat
    - Barbara Kaufmann

cup of oolong
a goldfinch appears
in the haze
    - Barbara Kaufmann

blood-red moon
in the garden
a perfect pumpkin
    - Barbara Tate

rain
a white cat claws at
the screen
    - Barbara Tate

eulogy
a gray dove calls . . .
gets no answer
    - Barbara Tate

my mug sky blue
and hers lime green
. . . this steaming berry tea
    - Bill Waters

she pauses to twirl:
the little girl
in the raspberry dress
    - Bill Waters

like five sisters:
a row of orange maples
tall and strong
    - Bill Waters

in place of shrubs
I plant purple bell peppers
and red roses
    - Brenda Roberts

sorting stones
all the purple ones
are mine!
    - Brenda Roberts

rosemary
for remembrance
mom's plastic pink flamingo
    - Brenda Roberts

prussian blue
falling across the canvas
like blueberries
    - C. Robin Janning

heavy rainfall
my retriever
golden again
    - Carol Dilworth

winter compost
a range of browns
harbinger of plenty
    - Carol Dilworth

spring at last
a blue door opens
to sunlight
    - Caroline Skanne

spring break
a spot of red
in the bug hotel
    - Caroline Skanne

blue dusk
tracing the silhouette
of a song
    - Caroline Skanne

bone-deep
where the yellow pill
won't reach
    - Caroline Skanne

scarlet night
a bite of apple
in the nude
    - Celestine Nudanu

lemon sky
a tinge of bitterness
in mother's soup
    - Celestine Nudanu

neither here, nor there
a brown paper bag whipped
by the wind
    - Chen-ou Liu

unpacking brown cardboard boxes
too many . . .
gradually fewer
    - Cheryl Gallien

blushing bride
my red lipstick print
on her cheek
    - Christina Sng

vibrant scarves
swirl around her body
tangerine tango
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

uphill
an excuse to stop
red berries, yellow berries
    - Danny Blackwell

spring sun
the reddening of
his bald spot
    - Dave Read

sunset
a yellow rose
droops in the vase
    - Dave Read

vermillion too many poppies to count
    - David J. Kelly

forest fire the whole sky burnt sienna
    - David J. Kelly

clear blue sky
a student busy
counting clouds
    - Debbi Antebi

newly painted
on the park bench
a leaf turns blue
    - Debbi Antebi

pink tulips
taking the long way
home
    - Debbi Antebi

summer sunset
the orange glow stays
on my face
    - Debbi Antebi

balanced on the elephant's trunk a tangerine moon
    - Debbie Strange

lazy morning . . .
a ginger cat curls
into a sunbeam
    - Debbie Strange

sepia postcards
from around the world
autumn leaves
    - Debbie Strange

a row of red bindings
at the used book store
rocking chair
    - Deborah P Kolodji

childhood's end
a quilt block made from
her lavender dress
    - Deborah P Kolodji

her indentation
in the black leather couch
calico kitten
    - Deborah P Kolodji

mindful of the
lightness of meditation
periwinkle blue
    - Devin Harrison

illuminating trails
below the redwood canopy
pink sorrel
    - Devin Harrison

spring reveals
her new fashion line
a million greens
    - Dottie Piet

summer rumble
fists of gray clouds
lead the attack
    - Dottie Piet

cherry trees
beautiful evening
in pink japan
    - Ece Cehreli

after
the rainbow —
a pink moon
    - Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian

black clouds
the sky whispers
its bad mood
    - Eufemia Griffo

little maple tree
two inches high
even your three leaves are turning red
    - Frank Robinson

in the heel of the black sock a neat circle of pink skin
    - Glenn Ingersoll

graveyard —
wearing my black raincoat
once again
    - Goran Gatalica

spring pops up
against the blue sky
plums in pink
    - Hideo Suzuki

all at once
yellow flowers bloom . . .
summer break
    - Hideo Suzuki

pearls of dew
on this purple flower . . .
september ends
    - Hideo Suzuki

blue heron
the long line
at the drive-thru
    - Jennifer Hambrick

black widow spider
blood droplets
tattooed on her neck
    - Jennifer Hambrick

twining vines
shade mama's porch . . .
green beans
    - Jill Lange

white sky
white pines —
the falling snow
    - Jill Lange

a smoky-peach sunset
mother must be
painting
    - Jo Balistreri

in a barrel
of fallen leaves
one pink cosmos
    - Jo Balistreri

white clouds
strung across blue sky
ropes on which i hang my hopes
    - Joan Leotta

wind and crickets
whistling through
my blue truck
    - Joan McNerney

small red boots splatter big puddles
    - Joan McNerney

pink blossom scattered
on her grave
north wind
    - Joanna M. Weston

the sway of trees
in the wind
a yellow balloon
    - Joanna M. Weston

cloud of pale yellow
arbutus blossom —
dragonflies
    - Joanna M. Weston

honey bees
dipping into pollen
her crimson lipstick
    - John Hawkhead

winter sunlight
my father's photograph
fades to black and white
    - John Hawkhead

ebony jewelwing
were you once
plain?
    - Julie Warther

gray moon
forgetting
our wedding date
    - Justice Joseph Prah

white-lit runway
revealing snail's silver trail
thunderflashes
    - Justice Joseph Prah

time into time
the blackness of the well
counting far away stars
    - Justice Joseph Prah

little gray rabbits
the slippers she wore
on her last walk
    - Kath Abela Wilson

lost piece of sky
my mother always
wore blue
    - Kath Abela Wilson

we painted
our home with it
three shades of sunshine
    - Kath Abela Wilson

full spring moon rising
red lantern in the black sky
no one is talking
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

two writers are one
when they can't stop looking at
the white gardenia
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

red geranium
green watering can
so sure of themselves
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

a different white
envelope
on the snow
    - kjmunro

yellow plastic pail
left at the beach
another memory
    - kjmunro

harmattan
a tree shedding
its greenness
    - Kwaku Feni Adow

excessive pink rouge
dotting pale flesh
nursing home visit
    - Lance Robertson

yellow duckling
close to the ground
morning dew
    - Laughing waters

lilac pansies
behind the door
sudden kisses
    - Lucia Fontana

red oleander
the silence pierced
by croaking
    - Lucia Fontana

new housing estate
the monotony
of red tiled roofs
    - Madhuri Pillai

feverish —
orange slices
and an old book
    - Maria Laura Valente

jazz records —
this night my lines
are so blue
    - Maria Laura Valente

a white forepaw
gingerly
on fallen leaves
    - Mark E. Brager

blue monday . . .
in a pot on the window
green sprouts
    - Marta Chocilowska

white sky —
the empty space
for thoughts
    - Martha Magenta

bluebird song —
hiding in the grass
an iris
    - Martha Magenta

open daffodils —
a little girl twirls
her yellow dress
    - Martha Magenta

hint of yellow
teasing tips
forsythia
    - Marty Blue Waters

children now gone
no red wagon
to break the fog
    - Mary Kendall

flashes of azure wings
two bluebirds wake
the grey morning
    - Mary Kendall

Mardi Gras gold mask
cat and dogs don't
know me
    - Michael G. Smith

damned river flotsam
one red soccer ball stands out
among the rubbish
    - Mimi Foyle

among fallen vines
a pencil-thin yellow snake
arrests my footsteps
    - Mimi Foyle

wife's first gray hair I point it out a few times
    - Nicholas Klacsanzky

attic —
the ladybug loses
its red
    - Nicholas Klacsanzky

into a black hole
a sleepy brown bear drags
its shadow
    - Nina Kovacic (translation by Durda Vukelic Rozic)

heat wave
black dots fill
the flypaper
    - Olivier Schopfer

just as the traffic light
turns from red to green
my cell phone rings   
    - Olivier Schopfer

first frost
I follow the white clouds
of my breath
    - Olivier Schopfer

nightfall
the purple shamrock's petals
slowly closing
    - Olivier Schopfer

64 colors
the time it takes to pick
the first crayon
    - Pat Davis

today's lesson
the color of pasta
when it's done
    - Pat Davis

in passing . . .
waxwings exchange
red berries
    - Pat Geyer

overgrown path
filled with eastern red buds . . .
forest pansies
    - Pat Geyer

moving stealthily
through neighborhood backyards —
a dog or red fox
    - Pat Geyer

she bid me "come, see!" —
sun setting magenta gold
— eyes wider with dusk
    - Peter Ladley

lichens in design
gray splotches on forest stone
stars aging in place
    - Peter Ladley

my toni doll —
that same red dress
for sixty years
    - Pris Campbell

heavy rain . . .
green overtaking brown
in my father's garden
    - Pris Campbell

sleepless . . .
our cat stares back
at the black night
    - Pris Campbell

crossroad —
I slip the gold
from my finger
    - Pris Campbell

another year
again she wipes
her red eyes
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

first autumn alone 
the yellowing pages 
of her diary
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

white flakes
on red mittens
her first snow
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

midday sun
packing oranges
for the picnic
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

at day's end
the highest balloon —
yellow, blue, or red?
    - Ron Scully

you cannot unscent
red filling the sunroom
so amaryllis
    - Ron Scully

painter's palette
teal, cerulean, azure
no match to this sea
    - Ron Scully

spring day
even my cat's eyes
are greener
    - Rosa Clement

peace parade
white balloons invisible
in the clouds
    - Rosa Clement

twilight
an egret stands alone
turning pink
    - Sandi Pray

in the woods
the sound of
red berries
    - Sandi Pray

crunch-crunch-crunch
a red-winged blackbird stops
and I do too
    - Scott Wiggerman

drooping fruit
of prickly pears
maroon sunset
    - Scott Wiggerman

yellow stripes
run the caterpillar's length
the road ahead
    - Scott Wiggerman

first kiss . . .
my white dish
breaks
    - Shedrach Ugwu

mother's emerald ring reflections in green light
    - Simon Hanson

midnight silver
the desert pool
filled with stars
    - Simon Hanson

garden path
highlights of the moon
on black satin
    - Simon Hanson

under the bed
slouching indifferently
one lone purple sock
    - Stacey Crawford Murphy

crystal clear raindrop
borrows yellow
from a daffodil
    - Sue Norvell

purple bruise
remembering
the "youch!"
    - Sue Norvell

turmeric moon
on every page of ma's cookbook
a smear of gold
    - Sanjuktaa Asopa

crunch of red leaves . . .
the bickering continues
into the walk
    - Sanjuktaa Asopa

chalked upon the sidewalk
the name "macbeth" —
a black ant marches across
    - Stephen Page

high above the weeds
closer to the sun, white
yucca plant flowers
    - Stephen Page

a psychic's shop
black door ajar —
tell me something I don't know
    - Tara Kane

violet, lavender
and lilac dance together
on her skirt
    - Theresa A. Cancro

monarchs
perched in firs
dreaming yellow
    - Theresa A. Cancro

sliding into spring
a paprika sunset
stains the horizon
    - Theresa A. Cancro
   
on the ground
her golden hair
shorn
    - Tia Haynes

the rumpled
white linen
of my wedding night
    -Tia Haynes

pink
the triangle
she wore
    - Tia Haynes

crimson sunset
what you've said
what I've said
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

spicing things up
one side of the room
painted orange
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

one yellow sock
one blue
whatever    —    no one looks
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

yellow bingo lights
we count meteors
over the pier
    - Tim Gardiner

a warming oven
black bananas
in the yellow bowl
    - Tricia Knoll

three gold pins pulled
from the cotton doll
spring cherry blossoms
    - Tricia Knoll

black ink on her thumb
the freelancer's
blotted safety net
    - Tricia Knoll

gray skies
at the zoo —
blue frogs
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

buds on branches —
two blue jays
trading places
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

filling the heart day after day white butterflies
    - Vibeke Laier

golden leaves rustling hedgehog dreams
    - Vibeke Laier

cherry tree
a pink petal lands
on my nose
    - Violet Akalu-Skanne

spring boot fair i buy a green polka dot dress
    - Violet Akalu-Skanne

playing field
i pick a buttercup
for my teacher
    - Violet Akalu-Skanne

my brother's smile reflected in a red balloon
    - Violet Akalu-Skanne

i loved to trace them —
thick blue veins
on grandma's hands
    - Zee Zahava

cardinals
visiting the tulips
red on red on red on red
    - Zee Zahava

new blue sneakers
with lime-green laces . . .
more zip in my springtime walk
    - Zee Zahava

first date —
over wildflower bouquet
her blue eyes
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Edible Haiku

Welcome to the April 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month's theme is Edible Haiku.

Poems have been received from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Italy, Netherlands, Poland, Singapore, Turkey, the U. K., Ukraine, the United States, and Vietnam


my first bite
in the mango season
this greenfly who won't go away
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

winter date:
baked potatoes meet
spicy chicken
    - Adrian Bouter

sticky rice
the toddler's endless
questions
    - Agnes Eva Savich

relaxing at lunch
a pigeon eyes my salmon —
nothing is safe anywhere
    - Alan Bern

candlemas
little fingers pulling
the wishbone
    - Alan Summers

paradox in Rio
under the scorching sun
boiling black beans: feijoada
    - Amauri Solon

chimarrao and churrasco
my gaucho uncle
still in my habits
    - Amauri Solon

star cookies —
he asks for
mooncakes
    - Angelee Deodhar
   
sodden field
beyond March muck
hot cocoa
    - Anna Cates

a taste
of black bean brownies
rainy Saturday
    - Anna Cates

family feast . . .
taste of raw mango
in every dish
    - Archana Kapoor Nagpal

pregnancy cravings . . .
next to my bed
a box of chocolates
    - Archana Kapoor Nagpal

licking water from my palm
the homeless
kitten
    - Barbara Tate

fall harvest
hiding in plain sight
the pumpkin pies
    - Barbara Tate

shoveling walkways —
the crew boss
brings hot coffee
    - Bill Waters

winter solstice
blackberries on sale
at the market
    - Brad Bennett

snowed in
another spoonful of sugar
in my tea
    - Carol Dilworth

vegan
no more honey
on buttered toast
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

pancake by pancake accepting imperfection
    - Caroline Skanne

eating grapes
straight from the vine
the robin and i
    - Caroline Skanne

curling smoke
I burn his casserole
after the honeymoon
    - Celestine Nudanu

bread and butter pudding
hot on my tongue
his kisses
    - Celestine Nudanu

rose petals
furling and unfurling
in my tea
    - Christina Sng

mulberries
the tartness
of her criticism
    - Christina Sng

crêpes suzette
he rarely gives
flowers
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

summer camp
spitting watermelon seeds
on movie night
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

novice baker
she makes mud pies
by the driveway
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

the gravy boat
comes around . . .
no need to ask
    - Dan Schwerin

oatmeal
the help
of milk and honey
    - Dan Schwerin

dunking the biscuit too long — where we went wrong
    - Danny Blackwell

after generosity
tears of joy
wasabi
    - David J. Kelly

maple syrup
the buffet breakfast
runneth over
    - David J. Kelly

wild strawberry
the sweet reward
of finding it
    - David J. Kelly

visiting my parents
a bag of sprouting potatoes
in the guest shower
    - David Oates

new friend
watches closely as I try
habanero sauce
    - David Oates

what readers can't see
the chocolate stains
on my poems
    - Debbi Antebi

waxwings again not enough berries for jam   
    - Debbie Strange

squash blossom . . .
creases form between
her brows
    - Debbie Strange

the fragrance
of a ripened peach
perfectly split
    - Dottie Piet

eating kebab
the smell of smoke
surrounding the garden
    - Ece Cehreli

a happy day
I eat baklava
with sherbet
    - Ece Cehreli

rendez-vous:
a swallow's nest
above the dish of sushi
    - Elisa Allo

relaxing Saturday —
children order
soba noodles
    - Elisa Allo

subway car
the lingering smell
of a ham sandwich
    - Elizabeth Alford

when it comes to love
there can never be too much
ripe avocado
    - Elizabeth Alford

crumbs
ants in a row
on the windowsill
    - Eufemia Griffo

after divorce
ice cream melts
drop by drop
    - Eufemia Griffo

in my Easter bunny suit
a tiny child
offers me a carrot
    - Frank Robinson

the melon cubes
stick together
morning of the surgery
    - Glenn Ingersoll

camping
always beside our fire
glimmering fish
    - Goran Gatalica

summer evening
my daughter adds
lime juice to the stir fry
    - Hannah Mahoney

teaching my daughter
mom's recipe
the slow pour of molasses
    - Hannah Mahoney

mental health day
slathering marmalade
on warm toast
    - Hannah Mahoney

that pear i tasted
in Paris when i was young
lingers on my tongue
    - Jack Goldman

raspberries
grandbabe's
first opinion
    - Jan Benson

impromptu picnic
at japanese gardens
herbal tea and zen
    - Jan Benson

traveling without him passion fruit stains her white dress
    - Jane Williams

steaming bowl of pho the delicate aromas of a daydream
    - Jane Williams

cold moon
my mother's slow and
constant stirring
    - Jennifer Hambrick

fresh-mown bluegrass
slices of cucumber
on granny's chipped china plate
    - Jennifer Hambrick

apples, apples, apples
so many kinds —
one of each please in my pie
    - Joan Leotta

we feast on guava y queso
sipping spicy teas —
you whisper sweet nothings
    - Joan McNerney

barbeque
each mosquito
takes a bite
    - Joanna M. Weston

a cold front
moving in
hot curry
    - Joanna M. Weston

fruit softening
under the old apple tree
wasps threading shadows
    - John Hawkhead

dandelion stew
on the dinner table
everyone's wish
    - Justice Joseph Prah

whipped cream
he puts out his tongue
really far
    - Kath Abela Wilson

red chili pepper
I even sprinkle it
on toast
    - Kath Abela Wilson

midnight
the taste of parsnip chips
in bed
    - Kath Abela Wilson

new to kitchen . . .
I added salt instead of sugar
in tea
    - Kumarendra Mallick

driving home
the hot pizza box
on the passenger seat
    - Lance Robertson

the possibilities in a bag of flour
    - Lance Robertson

buttery fingers
sharing a large popcorn
at the movies   
    - Lance Robertson

tossed noodle
sticks to the wall
spider web
    - Laughing waters

3 o'clock
start thinking about dinner —
50 years
    - Linda Keeler

burnt toast
the day begins
badly
    - Linda Keeler

season's end . . .
the last peach in the bowl
politely turned down
    - Madhuri Pillai

cherries the ones I left hanging
    - Margaret Jones

handmade piadina —
the flour on your cheek
the day we met
    - Maria Laura Valente

sunday lunch —
just the three of us
and countless meatballs
    - Maria Laura Valente

jasmine in bloom —
first cookies I bake
for my daughter
    - Maria Laura Valente

birthday cake
she eats the word
happy
    - Marianne Paul

crabapple worms
she says her jelly jam
has lots of protein
    - Marianne Paul

vegan diet
my cat staring
at the freezer
    - Marta Chocilowska

stray dog
a beggar splits his sandwich
in half
    - Marta Chocilowska

supermoon
a ripe squash hangs
from the trellis
    - Martha Magenta

cinnamon buns —
the first time I saw
my neighbour
    - Martha Magenta

blackberry moon
filling jam jars
to the brim
    - Martha Magenta

another night shift
solitary focus
morning donuts
    - Marty Blue Waters

chocolate almond milk
being silly together —
my daughter's laughter
    - Mary Hohlman

sunflower seeds
my canary and I
enjoy spring morning
    - Mary Hohlman

tasting a word
as I say it aloud —
gnocchi
    - Mary Kendall

the soft velvet
of apricots
against our lips
    - Mary Kendall

pierogi day —
pinching loose ends
of dough & memories
    - Mary Kendall

red lentils soaking
I do the laundry
water the garden
    - Michael G. Smith

making apple pies
a poet taught me about
sharing a kitchen
    - Mimi Foyle

my fingers scramble
chocolate in my pocket
turns the day around
    - Mimi Foyle

the '60s
Barefoot Tom makes co-op salads
from yard weeds
    - Nancy Osborn

arriving late for dinner flowers expired in the vase
    - pamela a. babusci

cream in my coffee
swirling like
the Milky Way
    - pamela a. babusci

nana's kitchen
even the cat
eats spaghetti
    - Pat Davis

nana's herbs
she lets me pick
the sweet basil
    - Pat Davis

wine at the bottom of the cup —
swallowing
candlelight
    - Phoebe Lakin

for the teacher
a red apple
or six dandelions
    - Phyllis Lee

for a bigger tip
she adds whipped cream
and pecans
    - Phyllis Lee

in the porch box
chocolate chip cookies
for the birds
    - Phyllis Lee

seafront cafe
extra salt
on the table
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

snowmelt
two carrots left
on the lawn
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

midnight diner
he-man breakfast dish
turned into ash tray
    - Ron Scully

soft drink
a waiter says it's okay
to eat the flower
    - Rosa Clement

fortune cookie
she looks for wisdom after
cracking it
    - Rosa Clement

tangerine season
I turn my skirt
into a basket
    - Rosa Clement

autumn fog
bursting through it
cherry tomato
    - Ruth Yarrow

blackberries
in a bowl of water — sky
fractured into dots
    - Ruth Yarrow

nursing home:
loud clinking
of rice pudding spoons
    - Ruth Yarrow

please take me out
for a home cooked meal
someplace else
    - Sara Robbins

quick browning
of the apple's flesh
moon and clouds
    - Scott Wiggerman

ah! fresh basil the grasshopper and i
    - Simon Hanson

coconut blossom sugar
such sweet words
from her lips
    - Simon Hanson

on a park bench
empty black walnut shell —
my breath in front of me
    - Stephen Page

limburger cheese
on the hot radiator
dad's school prank
    - Sue Norvell

the first tomatoes
finally
summer begins
    - Sue Norvell

proud mama
my toddler knows more foods at 1
than i did at 20
    - Summer Killian

simmering soup . . .
they do not exchange
a single word
    - Sunjuktaa Asopa

breakfast table
the light from
a peeled orange
    - Sunjuktaa Asopa

steaming rice
on a banana leaf
so fragrant this noonday peace
    - Sunjuktaa Asopa

garden party —
her laughter mixes
with the guacamole
    - Theresa A. Cancro

morning moon —
folding an omelet
onto the plate
    - Theresa A. Cancro

spring sunset —
one green olive left
in the jar
    - Theresa A. Cancro

Sunday crime
I overestimate the nutmeg
for our breakfast muffins
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

a little moment
of rebellion
gelato in February
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

more groceries
than my trunk can hold
rainy Friday
    -Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

married dinner out —
bringing reading
material
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

jasmine tea my eyes open for butterflies
    - Vibeke Laier

restaurant temper tantrum —
the cook put paprika
on my poached eggs
    - Zee Zahava

daydreaming
now the tea is cold . . .
that's okay
    - Zee Zahava

contemptuous of phonies
my father rejects
haagan-dazs ice cream
    - Zee Zahava

green tea leaf
on the bottom of a cup
a chinese dragon
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

morning coffee
instead of sugar
your smile
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Haiku by and About Women

Welcome to the March 2017 issue of brass bell. This is the second annual issue dedicated to poetry by women. In celebration of International Women's Day (March 8), and National Women's History Month in the U. S., we write in honor of women and girls everywhere.

You will notice the way some themes and references appear in more than one haiku, like threads connecting women to one another.

Poems have been received from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Italy, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Sweden, the U. K. and the United States



catching up
with a girlfriend
summer clouds
    - Agnes Eva Savich

spring cleaning —
the doll grandma gave me
still says "Mama"
    - Angelee Deodhar

Mother's Day
she calls me by her
sister's name
    - Angelee Deodhar

how sad it is
she is almost gone
and we are still unfinished
    - Ann Wexler

late season snow all my yesterdays
    - Anna Cates

feeling awkward
in my too-short skirt
summer's end
    - Anna Maris

old diary
the rose
still red
    - Aparna Pathak

guarding women's right to choose
in honor of my daughter
in your memory, mom
    - Barbara Mink

centipede
her collection of mismatched
shoes
    - Barbara Tate

preoccupation
counting the stars
which one is mine
    - Barbara Tate

spring meadow
my daughter's hair
curls at the waist
    - Caroline Skanne

wood walk
when no one listens
she sings
    - Caroline Skanne

free education
mother and I learn
the alphabet
    - Celestine Nudanu

in our house
the bits of family
that come unglued
    - Christina Martin

sunshine —
just as her funeral bell
strikes two
    - Christina Martin

distant stars
days I need to be
alone
    - Christina Sng

crinkling leaves
the deepening lines
in my skin
    - Christina Sng

cherry pink sunset
my dog and I
childless
    - Christine L. Villa

talking with mom
about my first period
white pleated skirt
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

first bra strap snap
by our male gymnastics coach
sixth grade
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

long winter
the sudden white
in my hair
    - Debbi Antebi

fading memories
my reflection sways
in the ripples
    - Debbi Antebi

planting a Three Sisters garden every year we remember you
    - Debbie Strange

the hum of bees . . .
I know every word
by heart
    - Debbie Strange

runaway truck lane
all those things
I can't control   
    - Deborah P Kolodji

one tiny word
honey
on a warm biscuit
    - Fran Helmstadter

morning frost
the farmer murmurs
to her goats
    - Hannah Mahoney

Friday acupuncture
she needles a spot
called Palace of Weariness
    - Hannah Mahoney

no room at the inn for a pregnant refugee
    - Helen Buckingham

quantum shift
venus positions herself
over jupiter
    - Jan Benson

home late —
the kiss you wanted,
the one you got
    - Jan Benson

waxing moon
the quarters
in her vacuum bag
    - Jennifer Hambrick

mountain fog
great-grandmother
weaves a corn shuck chair
    - Jennifer Hambrick

center of the labyrinth —
my spirit guide
whispers her name
    - Jill Lange

your words —
the exaggerated lies
of moonlight
    - Joann Grisetti

on the train all my life the journey
    - Joanna M. Weston

memories
in my backpack
sand and shells
    - Joanna M. Weston

green ferns emerging
from decaying forest floor —
potential in me
    - Julie Schnepel

last days
I sing her
the lullabies
    - Kath Abela Wilson

the open journal
remembering being sixteen
same handwriting
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

over coffee
she cleans her glasses
on the baby blanket
    - kjmunro

girl in a blue shawl
my friend
before I even knew your name
    - Laura Gates-Lupton

my daughter . . .
year by year
our roles reverse
    - Madhuri Pillai

the steely grain
in her voice
the hurt she hides
    - Madhuri Pillai

factory bell
taking a piece of the moon
home with her
    - Malintha Perera

falling leaf —
grandma's pendulum clock
has stopped
    - Maria Laura Valente

crescent moon —
my mother's smile shines
on my sister's face
    - Maria Laura Valente

white chrysanthemum
who will remember me
when I'm gone
    - Marta Chocilowska

melting ice
her first letter after
fifty years
    - Martha Magenta

tumbleweed
the wind restyles
my hair
    - Martha Magenta

i was a bluebird
in another life
following the river's path
    - Marty Blue Waters

scent of mock orange —
all the years spent
doubting myself
    - Mary Kendall

when i can't decide
between monkey bars and swings
tree branches beckon
    - Mimi Foyle

in my best dreams i
play the piano and weave
a bridge of serpents
    - Mimi Foyle

mountain peak
gazing into the distance
i postpone my descent
    - Nina Kovacic (translation by Durda Vukelic Rozic)

her name tag says
hello, my name is
woman
    - Pat Davis

after yesterday
trying to think well
of an old friend
    - Phyllis Lee

carrying on
as if I were
not broken
    - Phyllis Lee

trash day —
discarding the last
of those dratted heels
    - Pris Campbell

women's day —
the younger ones carry
the torch now
    - Pris Campbell

hometown park
the old seesaw wobbles
with the weight of my worry
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

another year
still this scar
reminds me
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

suburban road
the sound of my high heels
silences the crickets
    - Rosa Clement

laundry day
the flowers of my dress
with jasmine scent
    - Rosa Clement

over her apple
the toddler peers
at the munching squirrel
    - Ruth Yarrow

from a flowered sofa
after an eighty hour week
her dark eyes
    - Ruth Yarrow

so hard to stay still
these first warm days of spring
my sap is rising
    - Sue Crowley

quarrel over —
tying knots
in a rag rug
    - Theresa A. Cancro

world hijab day
blue head scarf
in the elegant wind
    - Tricia Knoll

jagged craters
on the moon
my aging face
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

night kisses
sharing a secret
with mother
    - Vibeke Laier

early morning rain
the turtle remains in its shell
so do i
    - Zee Zahava

an unbusy moment eavesdropping on my own thoughts
    - Zee Zahava

wave after wave
your shadow
appears and disappears
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

haiku written on January 18, 2017

Welcome to the February 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month's collection features poems that were written on a single date: Wednesday, January 18, 2017.

Contributors are from: Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Japan, Nigeria, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, the U.K., and the United States


setting up for the day
the roadside beggar
lines his calabash with coins
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

winter blues
the unlit street lamp
waits for night
    - Agnes Eva Savich

late night haiku . . .
waking up the smartphone
and myself
    - Ajaya Mahala

rain drop
dripped then
drops on
    - Alan Bern

those who stop —
ducks taking colour
from the river
    - Alan Summers

orange dawn wakes me
ebb tide
mine and the river's
    - Amauri Solon Ribeiro

missing
the warmth of his voice
this cold cold house
    - Angelee Deodhar

late night drive
between the good songs
silent starlight
    - Anna Cates

sleet
the impossibility
of lilacs
    - Anna Maris

another chance
to know the ordinary
winter meadow
    - Anne Elise Burgevin

kid's garden —
the little snowman
eats the carrot
    - Aparna Pathak

six o'clock news
my husband yells at
the tv
    - Barbara Tate

winter night . . .
the hiss of the fire
the sigh of the cat
    - Bill Waters

winter garden
puddles cuddling up
to flagstones
    - Brad Bennett

the more I read
the more confused I become
can't shut my eyes
    - C. Robin Janning

winter sun
i share my oatcakes
with a robin
    - Caroline Skanne

the calligraphy
of bare maple branches
tangled thoughts of home   
    - Chen-ou Liu

watching over us
my son's stuffed animals
assigned as sentinels
    - Christina Sng

spreading towels
on the rug and sofa
muddy paws
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

street corner
an aspen shaking
in the rain
    - Dan Schwerin

middle of the night
colouring a nightmare
the yelp of foxes
    - David J. Kelly

paper cut
the sting of the words
in her letter
    - Debbi Antebi

CT scan
will i emerge
a butterfly
    - Debbie Strange

rain gutters full . . .
the hummingbird feeder
empty
    - Deborah P Kolodji

heavy cloud cover
the classical station
plays vivaldi
    - Dottie Piet

haiku dry spell . . .
my old water bottle
empties itself
    - Elizabeth Alford

morning echo
a rooster calculates
the reach of its crow
    - Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian

my cork board
three-deep in grandchildren's art
we plan the day
    - Ferris Gilli

reading the paper
checking the obituaries
not me not yet
    - Frank Robinson

the soft voice in the other room, man to cat
    - Glenn Ingersoll

another broken old vase
seeking out
my glasses
    - Goran Gatalica

january heat
opening windows
to a post-truth spring
    - Helen Buckingham

procrastination
i pretend to be sick . . .
mailbox in the snow
    - Hideo Suzuki

sweeping winter
from the corners
early crocus
    - Jan Benson

sharing cake all the time in the world before the mammogram
    - Jane Williams

business trip
in the light of the half-moon
my husband's slippers
    - Jennifer Hambrick

ah, poetry journal
package FedEx left in rain —
waterproof
    - Jill Lange

his wheelchair
at the window . . .
sun worship
    - Jo Balistreri

my green thumb too itchy
made me spill dirt
all over the floor
    - Joan McNerney

waves and the tide over and over again
    - Joanna M. Weston

subway rush hour
train carriages packed
with armpits
    - John Hawkhead

beach shoreline
waves washing
my fallen shadow
    - Justice Joseph Prah

cold snap
before sun
turtles
    - Kath Abela Wilson

calendar tells me
that I'm really getting old
but not on this day
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

warming up by the fire
we plan our visit
to Iceland
    - kjmunro

drifting clouds —
any anchor for my
wavering mind
    - Kumarendra Mallick

my footsteps
landing in your footprint
single snowflake
    - Laughing waters

light from a dim sky
the sun fit through the branches
as if it lived there
    - Laurinda Lind

after his death
his partner weeps alone —
alone at 97
    - Louise Vignaux

after work
detour to the chemist
her offer of coffee and a chinwag
    - Madhuri Pillai

matching scarfs
the child
and her bald barbie
    - Malintha Perera

a healing circle
we shed old stories
forgiveness
    - Mara Alper

food enough and teeth
back home
I forgive my dentist
    - Margaret Jones

feeling guilty
pruning the houseplants
anyway
    - Marianne Paul

frosted window —
placing the poinsettia
near the fireplace
    - Marta Chocilowska

daffodil leaves
a sharp bend
in the road
     - Martha Magenta

tripping over the same rug —
hammer and nails
pounding it to the floor
    - Marty Blue Waters

mangosteen rubies
scatter on the kitchen floor
like winter rainbows
    - Mimi Foyle

no fear . . .
blue jays nab peanuts
despite the cat
    - Nancy Brady

elephant with wings
imaginations soar high
while feeding baby
    - Neha R. Krishna

snowy day
the sweetness of summer
in my mum's marmalade
    - Nina Kovacic
      translated by Durda Vukelic Rozic

clever morning
one more verbal blow
from my Shakespearean Insults calendar
    - Olivier Schopfer

met someone new
and liked her much more
than I expected to
    - Phoebe Shalloway

prankster
the neighbor's garden Buddha
on our porch swing
    - Phyllis Lee

each time
I look at the clock —
two a.m.
    - Pris Campbell

my cold hands
warming them up
in your pocket
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

before dawn
coming to my senses
fear fades to white
    - Rob Sullivan

breakfast
the scent of lilies stronger
than coffee
    - Rosa Clement

dark water
between the last chunks of ice
deep reflections
    - Ruth Yarrow

shuffled playlist
my least favorite song
plays first
    - Shloka Shankar

pool rescue
a struggling bee
lifted to a sunflower
    - Simon Hanson

winter fog —
a boat horn blows
from every direction
    - Stephen Page

my vulnerable students
laugh at my jokes —
the last class I will teach
    -Sue Crowley

flock of turkeys
scratching through the snow
to the leaves below
    - Susan Lang

winter doldrums
slipping past the screen door
the cat's cold nose
    - Theresa A. Cancro

the arterial road
clogged up again . . .
high blood pressure
    - Tim Gardiner

the icicle dagger
falls from the eaves
wild freedom
    - Tricia Knoll

winter moon
folding myself
into silence
    - Vibeke Laier

a thought—
the world is a magical place
it opens its arms to me
    - Yvonne Fisher

lunch with my sister's photograph
not as much fun
as a real visit
    - Zee Zahava

snowstorm
lifting up
a flock of rooks
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Sunday, January 1, 2017

happiness haiku

Welcome to the January 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month we are sharing what makes us happy … a good way to start a new year!


Contributors are from: Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Japan, Philippines, Poland, Singapore, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, Wales, the U.K., and the United States


mountain
on your rough edge
I made it to the top
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

crashing tide
little crabs hurry back
to sea
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

your voice
again
more than enough
    - Alan Bern

the rock garden where the statue of Buddha sat
    - Alan Catlin

bedtime stories
read to me by my parents
I read to my grandson
    - Angelee Deodhar

spring breeze
my dress makes a pirouette
on the washing line
    - Anna Maris

sunset
the hare and i
stop to watch
    - Anna Maris

first date
this early morning and you
also so blushed
    - Anna Mazurkiewicz

temple bell . . .
I recollect the name
of a long lost friend
    - Aparna Pathak

winter sky
catching a wish
on my tongue
    - Barbara Tate

reading in the sunshine . . .
a tangle of lavender
and one devoted bee
    - Bill Waters

asleep with the light on . . .
taking the book
from her hand
    - Bill Waters

after the rain
my shadow steps first
in the puddles
    - Billy Antonio

book-shaped cake
my child tells me she too
is a bookworm
    - Billy Antonio

swaying pines . . .
something inside me
clicks into place
    - Brad Bennett

thirty four years after
dad's gone — a new baby
with his eyes
    - Bre

rush of wind
no ground below
zipline
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

full inbox
taking a break
super moon . . .
    - Caroline Skanne

thawing stream
the forgotten words
of a song . . .
    - Caroline Skanne

her bike
leans against mine . . .
summer stars
    - Chen-ou Liu

rolling in from the sea moon pearls
    - Christina Martin

last chocolate
at the back of the fridge
childlike exuberance
    - Christina Sng

first sight
of my newborn son
the expansion of my heart
    - Christina Sng

a young swashbuckler
challenges his reflection
with a balloon sword
    - David J. Kelly

wearing fairy wings
a little girl flutters
from step to step
    - David J. Kelly

tiny raindrops shine
in my daughter's dark hair —
starry sky
    - David Oates

harvest moon
the love note I find
in an old book
    - Debbi Antebi

eleven years later
our new dance
to the same song
    - Debbi Antebi

ginko walk how extraordinary this ordinary life
    - Debbie Strange

Betsy's deck —
waiting for the eagle
on Penobscot Bay
    - Frances Helmstadter

early january —
for a moment
i'm as young as the new year
    - Frank Robinson

one by one
the fireflies come to dance
among the rafters
    - Glenn Ingersoll

ending the year
on a bright note —
moonshine on ice
    - Helen Buckingham

twin umbrellas
talking to each other
joy of a rainy day
    - Hideo Suzuki

you are my sunshine
new again
with each babe
    - Jan Benson

exchanging rare objects snail mail
    - Jane Williams

dolphin pod so much more to see without my camera
    - Jane Williams

the cartoon clippings
she sends just for fun
spring birds
    - Jennifer Hambrick

morning bird how he calls me beautiful
    - Jennifer Hambrick

making angels
in the snow . . .
grandma and grandpa
    - Jo Balistreri

whoopee another poetry acceptance
    - Joan McNerney

a dozen red balloons
hang from the chandelier
his sixtieth
    - Joanna M. Weston

I go to bed smiling
each night a flower
in my hair
    - Kath Abela Wilson

reaching into a box
of mom's few last possessions
my poems about her
    - Kath Abela Wilson

just this one flower
makes the whole room beautiful
red gladiola
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

unpacking my suitcase your lunch this poem
    - kjmunro

at the library
on the lowest shelf
picture books
    - kjmunro

tumbling down the hill box of kids
    - Laughing waters

writing again
playing piano again
healthy again
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

dog park
in the morning sunshine
the bellbird's song
    - Madhuri Pillai

sun after storm
flowers on the meadow
straightening up
    - Marta Chocilowska

icy wind
the horse's warm breath
on my neck
    - Martha Magenta

looking for a laugh
i see a mirror and pose
hello hello
    - Marty Blue Waters

my great-grandson
always giggling
i never know why
    - Mary Louise Church

snowbound —
a brand new novel
page one
    - Mary Kendall

first snow —
a cheeky chickadee
breaks the peace
    - Mary Kendall

on the telephone
my grandson's excited shriek
when he hears it's me
    - Mimi Foyle

having a stroll — my daydreams and I
    - Nina Kovacic
      translated by Durda Vukelic Rozic

new passengers
in the subway train
a feather enters too
    - Olivier Schopfer

secret garden
no sound but
the gurgle of the fountain
    - Olivier Schopfer

my grown child declares
the best music is
in the oldies bin
    - Pat Davis

winter green
the first sprout
from my hyacinth bulb
    - Pat Davis

our initials
carved in a heart . . .
still smiling
    - Pat Geyer

slow mornings — you laugh
and brush my tangling hair
right into my eyes
    - Phoebe Shalloway

car window condensation
draw one smiley face
then a second so it's not lonely
    - Phoebe Shalloway

emptied closet . . .
mother's old red robe again
in my arms
    - Pris Campbell

checking the clock —
my friend's face appears
on skype
    - Pris Campbell

first warm day
folding the breeze
into the sheets
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

hopscotch
I play a game
with my inner child
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

small brown wren
weighs on trembling aspen
vocalissimus
    - Ron Scully

spring night
in my dream I am
awake and smiling
    - Rosa Clement

kaleidoscope
my son shows me
another beauty
    - Simon Hanson

strong wind gust —
cardinal atop a plum
lifts its crown and sings
    - Stephen Page

1 nuthatch    1 titmouse    9 goldfinches
6 perches at the feeder
chaos!
    - Sue Norvell

fall hike —
the crackle
of peanut brittle
    - Theresa A. Cancro

waking
the robin's spirit
within me
    - Tim Gardiner

happy birthday card
from the hardware store
farmer's nuts, bolts, and hoses
    - Tricia Knoll

midnight kiss
New Year's Eve
and every night
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

patches of daffodils
around the city —
finally
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

winter dawn
butterflies gliding
in a dream
    - Vibeke Laier

dancing with diana
gladys     stevie     smokey
motown sunrise
    - Zee Zahava

pen: thank you for still having ink
    - Zee Zahava


Thursday, December 1, 2016

HomePlace: a collection of small poems

Welcome to the December 2016 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month showcases small poems on the theme HomePlace.

Contributors are from: Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Japan, Poland, Singapore, Switzerland, Turkey, Wales, the U.K., and the United States


amakom, ghana
oil waste from biscuit factory
lights our lanterns at night
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

berkeley
wide park and dodgeball playground
all i thought i'd need
    - Alan Bern

rio de janeiro
though born near the beach i dream
of horses and prairies
    - Amauri Solon

new brunswick, new jersey
i am 10
the young men go off to korea
    - Annie Wexler

new delhi, india
my hair styles change
from first crush to last
    - Aparna Pathak

barrie, ontario
doing the dishes with my mother
explaining the poetry of simon & garfunkel
    - Barbara Cartwright

akron, ohio
curfew broken
grounded again
    - Barbara Tate

cranesville, west virginia
how my father smiled there
like no other place
    - C. Robin Janning

cayutaville, new york
convertibles zoom by
too many to be a coincidence
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

stockholm
sucking the sweetness
out of a white lilac
    - Caroline Skanne

syracuse, new york
a baby bird falls out of its nest
mom revives her with 2 drops of whiskey
    - Chris McNamara

great neck, long island
watching out for the bully
who waits on the corner
    - Christina Martin

amber mansions, singapore
where i first fell in love
with cats
    - Christina Sng

yorktown heights, new york
front lawns manicured and tidy
i plant corn
    - Christine Sanchirico

manila, philippines
crying over a broken necklace
made of santan flowers
    - Christine L. Villa

midland, texas
stroking the soft bellies
of horny toads
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

broken hill, new south wales
a malleefowl crossing
by the "beware of malleefowl" sign
    - David J Kelly

rural georgia
on one grave
little toy trucks
    - David Oates

saskatchewan . . .
we photograph antelope
in the gloaming
    - Debbie Strange

niagara haze
maid of the mist looks
like a toy boat
    - Dottie Piet

hayward fault line
clinging to my mother
since the quake of '89
    - Elizabeth Alford

brooklyn
tension at the dining room table
my father carves the turkey
    - Frances Helmstadter

in providence
angell street crosses benefit
and peace and plenty are parallel
    - Frank Robinson

buffalo, new york
i played the violin
everyone else played football
    - Gabrielle Vehar

sebastopol, california
sticky to the elbows
juice of windfall apples
    - Glenn Ingersoll

virovitica, croatia
my father throws the scythe
into the barn
    - Goran Gatalica

scranton, pennsylvania
hiding sandwiches
behind the radiator
    - Grace Celeste

bosporus, turkey
waiting for a ferry
along with peddlers and gulls
    - Guliz Mutlu

briar hill
looking over my toes in bed
i see canada across the river
    - H. Fraser

mattapoisett
the stars
after my mother died
    - Hannah Mahoney

south london department store
gels in distressed school uniforms
take tea
    - Helen Buckingham

lima, ohio
drinking tang each morning
our prefab crackerbox home
    - Jan Benson

columbus, ohio
on the front porch
shooting craps with dad
    - Jennifer Hambrick

duluth, minnesota
grandma rocks me
and sings songs of ireland
    - Jo Balistreri

prospect park, brooklyn
i put pretty grass
on  my sandwich
    - Joan McNerney

north downs, kent
i turn the chicken run
into a rock garden
    - Joanna M. Weston

staten island
after 17 years we move up the hill
to fancy schmancy
    - Katha Abela Wilson

san francisco days
while mom waters her roses
i read nancy drew
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

newark, new york
i was almost chosen to be the
rose queen
    - Kim Falstick

vancouver summer
collecting caterpillars
releasing butterflies
    - kjmunro

ypsilanti, michigan
my best friend pammy and i give up chocolate milk
to chat during nap time
    - kris moon

india
under grandma's quilt
for evening story time
    - Kumarendra Mallick

kiev in winter
yellow chrysanthemums
bloom in the snowy streets
    - Laughing waters

a halifax night
revving our engines
at the stop light
    - Lance Robertson

bareville, pennsylvania
waiting for the mailman to arrive
we call him the candy man
    - Linda Keeler

queens, new york
my beautiful blue parakeet
binky
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

jamshedpur, india
screening "woodstock" in the club
i smuggle my friends inside
    - Madhuri Pillai

oswego, new york
giggling girls in red plaid skirts
late for confession, as usual
    - Margaret Dennis

ottawa lake, wisconsin
too cold to swim
i dive in to drown out mom's i told you so
    - Margaret Jones

brockville, ontario
the ghost playing organ music
at midnight
    - Marianne Paul

warsaw cemetery
a bag of sweet chestnuts
in my pocket
    - Marta Chocilowska

black mountains, wales
amid the dense rain
one red cagoule
    - Martha Magenta

greensburg, kansas
astonished to discover
tonight's chicken dinner was today's bloody chore
    - Marty Blue Waters

west newbury, vermont
the tyler farm
the huge white bull
    - Mary Louise Church

bozeman, montana
we stay indoors at night
bears own the streets
    - Michael G. Smith

city of angels
i sniff out the fresh-baked bread
half a block away
    - Mimi Foyle

manlius hitchhiker
my thumb a great friend
as i try to escape myself
    - MJ Richmond

highland park, illinois
morning bugle song
we live near the army base
    - Nancy Osborn

the bronx
hot fudge sundaes at krum's
my reward for good report cards
    - Nina Miller

geneva, switzerland
the christmas tree i wanted
to keep forever
    - Olivier Schopfer

east boston
street corner whistles
for the girl behind me
    - Pat Davis

union, new jersey
wet laundry freezes on the clothes line
baccalà for lunch
    - Pat Geyer

ithaca, new york
david bowie cancels his concert
i go into mourning
    - Paula Culver

chicago breakfast
the orange pellet changes
oleo to butter
    - Phyllis Lee

pageland, south carolina
wiping lipstick off ronald's picture
before mother sees
    - Pris Campbell

west hempstead, long island
smoking in the ravine with friends
accidentally burning down the driving range
    - Rainbow Crow

merrick, long island
ovaltine
it's good — and it's good for you
    - Rob Sullivan

wolfeboro, new hampshire
the patter of my own little feet
down the dock
    - Robin White

manaus, brazil
i insist on planting rosebushes
that will never bloom
    - Rosa Clement

fargo
seven tornadoes
me, safe in her womb
    - Ross Haarstad

poughkeepsie, new york
sunday morning bagels, nova, danish
the new york times
    - Sara Robbins

semaphore, south australia
joined by forty seagulls
for fish and chips
    - Simon Hanson

choconut center
my mom in witch costume
scaring trick-or-treaters home
    - Stacey Murphy

the farm in pennsylvania
on my belly inspecting clover
aha – four leaves!
    - Sue Norvell

highland park, new jersey
the 1950s
canned spinach
    - Sue Perlgut

jackson, mississippi
magnolias as big
as your face
    - Susan Annah Currie

denton, texas
mama gazes out at the sun-baked horizon
she misses canada
    - Susan Lesser

silver lake, ohio
the crooked tree in the yard
grandma told us to encourage it
    - Susanna Drbal

silver spring, maryland
for halloween i am a ballerina
four times
    - Theresa A. Cancro

great yarmouth . . .
a case of mistaken identity
in the house of wax
    - Tim Gardiner

near bear swamp
my wife and i young walk graveyards
one now her own
    - Tina Wright

ithaca hotel
and the trolley
that stopped there
    - Tom Clausen

randers, denmark
empty farm
gathering stones at sunset
    - Vibeke Laier

flushing, queens
mostly i stay inside
dreaming of other places
    - Yvonne Fisher

bronx, new york
first dance recital
i am the plumpest carrot on stage
    - Zee Zahava


Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Family Haiku

Welcome to the November 2016 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month's theme is: Family.

Contributors are from: Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Nigeria, Philippines, Poland, Singapore, Turkey, the U.K., and the United States


banana moon
my son asks me
the way to it
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

like father before
sitting outside
fogbathing
    - Alan Bern

praying mantis
resting on the cake —
family raise an argument
    - Amauri Solon

thanksgiving picnic a family of fire ants joins us
    - Angelee Deodhar

lying side by side
soft intake of breath, then out —
i could strangle him*
    - Barbara Mink

warning signs
hidden in plain sight
grandpa's keys
    - Barbara Tate

hot air
dad tells his stories
again
    - Barbara Tate

Father's Day
my daughter confirms
my Facebook friend request
    - Billy Antonio

sibling rivalry
my brother takes a selfie
with the latest iPhone
    - Billy Antonio

four generations living
the youngest nine days old
the eldest ninety-one
    - Bre

daughter stops
to help a snail
cross the road
    - Caroline Skanne

grandmother
on her old red bike
with the comfortable seat
    - Caroline Skanne

dreamcatcher . . .
with both hands my baby grasps
the spring sunlight
    - Chen-ou Liu

one year gone
on her side of the bed
winter moonlight
    - Chen-ou Liu

sit down christina
the only thing my grandmother
can say in english
    - Christina Martin

always first
my brother running off the pier
life jacket
    - Christina Martin

dad's frail shoulders
that once carried me
arctic mountain
    - Christina Sng

sunday best
mother's sharp perfume
stings my nostrils
    - Christina Sng

Aqua Velva . . .
watching dad shave
in the mornings
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

she takes his hand
picking eggs
with grandma
    - Dan Schwerin

my tiny nephew
already fluent
in dinosaur
     David J Kelly

grandma's chocolates
locked in her drawer
now expired
    - Debbi Antebi

second servings
I criticize my mom
for criticizing me
    - Debbi Antebi

we hover around our mother hummingbirds
    - Debbie Strange

tangled fish line
my sons tug
their grandfather
    - Deborah P Kolodji

Canada geese
my mother doesn't renew
her driver's license
    - Deborah P Kolodji

ivory smile
with one gold tooth
nine grandchildren
    - Dottie Piet

bitter cold
my late brother's scent
in his own bedroom
    - Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian

both of them with white hair
mother and son —
which is old, which is young?
    - Frank Robinson

leaving school
hiding from chaos theory
our younger son
    - Goran Gatalica

throwing down the lettuce
Big Sister calls me
slug girl!
    - Helen Buckingham

the cousins i never hear from black ice
    - Jennifer Hambrick

golden leaves
the pocket watch
of the grandfather I never met
    - Jennifer Hambrick

trembling lilacs
this Mother's Day —
the weight of bees
    - Jo Balistreri

snow
softly ends
dad's slowing breath
    - Jo Balistreri

rain
on the window
mother's tears
    - Joanna M. Weston

my son plays
the violin —
screech owls
    - Joanna M. Weston

fashion twist
I share hair elastics
with my son
    -kjmunro

she taught me
to draw birds
my little daughter
    - Kath Abela Wilson

once a day
he makes me laugh hard
our wedding vows
    - Kath Abela Wilson

early morning sun
reveals in motel mirror
my grandmother's face
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

I call mom
my brother gets the credit
dementia
    - Lance Robertson

hairy caterpillar
crawling in milkweed dew
father's mustache
    - Laughing waters

her mother's pearls
around my daughter's neck
lie warm
    - Madhuri Pillai

the jungle book —
my grandson removes his clothes
in the cinema
    - Marta Chocilowska

thin ice —
her comment about her
mother-in-law
    - Martha Magenta

waning gibbous
grandmother smaller than
she used to be
    - Martha Magenta

almost 10
thinking about death
daddy buried in his cowboy boots
    - Marty Blue Waters

my older sister and I
dance a hobbled two-step —
the bar crowd cheers
    - Marty Blue Waters

reading aloud
the scent of her head
so close to me
    - Mary Hohlman

moon flowers —
my son shows me
how they unfurl
    - Mary Kendall

losing my mother
is somehow more difficult
than finding her was
    - Mimi Foyle

picture postcards
my father's greetings
on the fridge
    - Nina Kovacic (translated by Durda Vukelic Rozic)

grandma's birthday
she asks why
people are singing
    - Pat Davis

only child . . .
i dream of the sister
that might have been
    Pat Geyer

august birthday . . .
my father a leo
always lionhearted
    - Pat Geyer

cloud watching
I find
my father's face
    - Phyllis Lee

first snow
the roses still bloom . . .
grandma's wallpaper
    - Phyllis Lee

nightingale call . . .
mother rises at midnight
to sit with him
    - Pris Campbell

my aunt's birthday —
dinner runs headless
out back
    - Pris Campbell

drifting smoke
the pipe cleaner men
my uncle once made
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

visiting grandma
the relentless chatter
of the budgie
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

polaroid of woman in a two-piece before she was my mother
    - Ron Scully

old sewing machine
Barbie gains a sexy dress
from grandma
    - Rosa Clement

in my hand
under the hospice blanket
his cool fingers
    - Ruth Yarrow

you loved being slim
Mom, the box of your ashes
so heavy
    - Ruth Yarrow

talking of Saturn
my daughter shows us
the hula hoop
    - Simon Hanson

new generation
my son asks me
to put the fish back
    - Simon Hanson

family reunion
i tried in my way
to be me
    - Sondra J. Byrnes

tea time
with the aunties —
mahjong clatter
    - Theresa A. Cancro

longed for child
I never did say
thank you
    - Tim Gardiner

fallen leaves . . .
a fresh quilt
for mother
    - Tom Clausen

when my wife asks
what I did today . . .
look at autumn trees
    - Tom Clausen

mother's birthday
a friday the thirteenth
104 years ago
    - Tricia Knoll

family talk
phone line and a white lie
connect us
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

water painting
just enough colour to
remember mother's flower
    - Vibeke Laier

wild roses
the memories i share
with my sister
    - Vibeke Laier

the Beatles —
I screamed once
my father slapped my face
    - Yvonne Fisher

in daddy's fedora
and her own pink tutu —
sister's sixth birthday
    - Zee Zahava

pinning a dandelion to her lapel
she calls this gardening —
my dear mother
    - Zee Zahava


===


*  Barbara Mink — lying side by side — "Exposure to a trigger sound elicits an immediate negative emotional response in people who have the condition called Misophonia."