BILL DIMICHELE ant ant ant ant ant four
June 12, 2014 § Leave a comment
climb down the ladder
many times more ladylike
terminus of light
one little nail-hole
is treasured as the gateway
its mystery breath
fallen from the trees
and into her red mitten
the visiting moon
returns the moonlight
half-lion and half-pharaoh
mingles with the guests
heart beating so fast
and under my fingernails
acorns and oak trees
sarcophagus lid
sinks low above the treetops
wash it down with beer
Exciting New Links!
June 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
Some exciting new links you may have missed!
Bones – A new international journal of contemporary haiku:
Fay Aoyagi’s Haiga:
http://fayhaiga.wordpress.com/page/2/
Haiku sent to Mars:
http://lasp.colorado.edu/maven/goingtomars/send-your-name/haiku-by-ranking/
Haiku in Danish and English by Johannes Bjerg:
http://www.2tongues.blogspot.com/
jw curry’s Industrial Sabotage:
Collaborative haiku you can contribute to with your phone:
http://www.haikujam.com/#gallery
Nebula Award-winning novels (1965-2004) summarized in haiku:
http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/blog/all_the_nebula_award_winners_in_haiku
GARY HOTHAM ant ant ant ant ant 1994-1999
June 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
on the bus tour
the darkness of the tunnel
on everyone’s face
in the desk drawer
papers that were hers
every day
the trees bend
a wind we can’t get
by
tall grass
in the tall grass
a while to listen
down the hall voices
the soft click
as the door shuts us in
around our feet
water on its way
to more water
the rain not holding on
to anything my father turns
66
home late
the darkness the stars
are in
on the rocks around us
water splashed
out of the ocean
snow flakes
no one will miss
melt in her hand
a few feet
from our feet
the ocean bottom starts
only the sound
of their car
comes back
JOHN M. BENNETT ant ant ant ant ant four
June 8, 2014 § Leave a comment
sigh lens hair
(retentions)
hand around you faceless
daughter blue pond and
heaving
other clouds
“my name”
the dead parts of me
June 6, 2014 § 1 Comment
onion grass my son pukes in the sink
the moon who cares where it is
your feet they’re nicer than mine
bottle caps rattle among the spoons
the crow says something for the crows
asphalt heat and foreign policy
the dead parts of me pester the rest
stale crackers easy to put them back
your twat I never call it that
the cat’s meow what’s that really about
the penny not as old as it looks
the extra napkin always gets tossed
rain check nothing to do with the rain
your fingerprint a consistent prostitute
the place on you I know you can’t touch
box tops they usually tear anyways
nails one of them in my foot
sassafras people still actually say that
your panties entwined with my odd socks
toothpaste not sure what I’m supposed to think
all the knives clean I hit the lights
the station
June 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
toothless men
discuss their bicycles
there’s no last straw
MICHAEL DYLAN WELCH ant ant ant ant ant 1995-1999
June 4, 2014 § 1 Comment
autumn rain
a leaf eddies
in the stream
bouncing on the grass
the whiteness
of hailstones
high tide
beach willow leaves
mingle with kelp
on the drive
there and back
a pine needle in the wiper
french graffiti I drop a coin in the phone booth
overdue my dead neighbor’s library book
statistics
June 3, 2014 § Leave a comment
the nurse says there are
more hermaphrodites
than vegetarians
SHAWN LINDSAY ant ant ant ant ant 1995-1999
June 1, 2014 § Leave a comment
bit by bit the apple peel around my finger
nicked her shin sweeping up the spring water a new moon
a rolled-up fence in the hayfield you can taste the lightening
exactly how my boot treads sound crimpling snow
on the corner with walnuts in her teeth it’s raining
the spruce
matted thick with ice
my tiny fingers
still the first raindrops straight down my spine
dripping wet mulberry leaves a crow anxiously
a white flower
held in the cinder block
flooded eaves
an inkling
of the bee’s vision
purple clover
autumn insects-
her perfume suffuses
the pillow
train tracks
one leaf spinning
on the beech
placing a palm on the kitchen window the thunder’s warm
invited to feel
the stubble on her legs-
autumn rain
road salt
tumbling in the vacuum of
an ambulance
ant5 