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:

http://www.bonesjournal.com/

 

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:

INDUSTRIAL SABOTAGE 12

 

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

 

 

 

 

cruelty free

June 10, 2014 § Leave a comment

 

her face it fits inside a small beaded bag

 

 

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

 

 

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