PAUL M. ant ant ant ant ant seven

March 16, 2016 § 2 Comments



fast river
white seeds
cross without me


chance of showers
a frayed rope
linking the mules


redwood stumps
some color
left in the sky


winter pruning
she changes
away from the window


snow outside
everyone else rises
to receive the host


hard winter ground
we argue about
the constellations


this year’s paintbrush
a path between
granite moraines


meeting the neighbors
the shapes of things
hidden by snow


warring countries
in the botanical garden


spring buds
the creek over boulders
of every size


snow-capped peaks
loom across the border
a favorable exchange rate


seventh full moon
men at the bar
watching the door


string from
a pigeon’s foot
March wind


talk of rain
I find myself
in the old neighborhood


first sunburn
an ant
on the lily arrangement


returning warmth
the first bird
into the house


war in the news
new leaves on a tree
my grandfather planted


summer dusk
the awkwardness
of a first guest


manzanita lanterns
a whole day
for idleness


distant thunder
the pigeon coop


flowering maple
the gait of horses
after a long winter


rustling grass
bundle of letters
from an old lover


earthquake weather
the pliant body
of a sea cucumber


heat wave
I count
the remaining eggs


red maple leaves
a mosquito bite
scratched open


winter nears
a beach full of shells
no two the same


crescent moon
a homeless man
asks about Bob


chill in the air
fire-blackened needles
still on the pine


winter night
a hard crumb
under the sheet


even after a snowfall
a gap in the wall
from a missing stone




ROBERT CREELEY ant ant ant ant ant one

June 13, 2014 § Leave a comment




Forget it,

man. It’s





Reading requests

for work’s

like working?









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



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




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




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






hand around you faceless


daughter   blue pond and





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





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






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



SAM SAVAGE morning-glories

May 25, 2014 § Leave a comment


A bent street sign   the insane man’s eyes



It could be the site for something   a bare hill



Just beyond the prison wall a wall of trees



Dancing to sounds from the Big Band Era a pair of midgets



Out of the fog’s whiteness silence



Unslept, the cool breeze on my eyelids



Alone in a house with children the slowly falling dusk



Along the roadside

torn-up paper in the grass

is morning-glories



May 21, 2014 § Leave a comment


applicant human

verification even this

part I fail

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with Haiku In English at ant5.

%d bloggers like this: