The Bamboo Hut September 2024
Autumn carries a bittersweet mixture of emotions, as the crisp air brings a sense of nostalgia and quiet reflection. The vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the falling leaves evoke warmth and wonder, yet they also serve as a reminder of nature’s inevitable cycle of decay and renewal. There's a serene, almost melancholic beauty in watching the world slow down, as shorter days and cooler nights invite introspection. The rustle of leaves underfoot and the golden glow of the late afternoon sun create a comforting sense of peace, balanced by the quiet awareness that winter is drawing near. It’s a season that stirs both gratitude for the present and a gentle yearning for what is passing.
Tanshi in this issue
Jenny Fraser
Tipping Point
the cyclone’s
rain drenched summer
music fest--
from kitchen to shearing shed
. . . shifting our camp
making room for rivers
the thought swirling
around
and through—
will we ever learn
tropical storms
fires and floods ...
what if we
the trespassers
on Papatūānuku
*Papatūānuku -Maori name for Mother Earth
Tuyet Van Do
first week home
she asks to visit
her son
feeble legs
on the gravel path
she looks for his name
mid morning rays
under the rose bushes
his plaque among strangers
misty eyes
she places fresh flowers
mother's love unbound
Oscar Luparia
AI
the group of aspiring haijin
will grow
kintsugi
the new cup I broke
deliberately
climate change
my ex-friend told me
it’s a fake problem
wind turbines...
the Earth seems
a little lighter
weekend
my not to-do list
got
l
o
n
g
e
r
Andy McCall
I want the world
filled with the sound
of silence
so I can hear
all the birds and animals
the lone seagull
crossing a sky full of tears
the sound of wings
beating against the wind -
my heart lifts
Tony Marcoff & Joy McCall
I'll drop my dreams
into the ocean
they will become
waves & whales
& stars
tossing my hopes
into the flowing river
they sink down
and settle among
stones and reeds
Joy and Andy McCall
I lit the candle
to make a wish for him
it burned long
leaving the scent of mocha
on the holy air
the candle burns
long into the night
shadows on the wall
my mind like the flame
fragile in the wind
Joy McCall
Island (candlemass 2024)
the brown Bear
is stirring
in the den
the Wild Girl wakes
and starts to sing
the Child
shifts and smiles
in the darkness
the Poet sits musing
on words and meanings
the dappled Horse dozes
under the tall trees
the Raven circles once
then settles high
in the old pine tree
light rain falls
and the full moon shines
on wet grass
the low tide turns
on sand, stones and bones
Maryam Mermey
she pushes her sister
in a wheelchair
hydrangeas turning pink
plush epaulette shark
in her arms
so young for fibromyalgia
farmers’ market prequel
father & son have a moment
leaning back
on the veggie truck
crow stands
in front of Buddha’s face
first day of spring
at the heart
of a heart~shaped garden
peonies
the color of a blush
Jenny Ward Angyal & Joy McCall
I walk
the beautiful Earth
for you,
and send you poems
like footsteps.
I leave the footprint
of my poems
on the damp ground
a small mouse sits there
nibbling paper scraps
David He
prayers
around Gran's bed...
fading lily
an owl cries
on the window sill...
my last guest
the guests
cheer to Gran...
cool sunset
Robert Witmer
singing
to a bowl of fruit
the aging parakeet
alone at the summit
starless
and small
hope
a spark
on the anvil
her needlepoint
in a dusty drawer
rain on a frozen pond
no one to turn
the hourglass over
dust on the easy chair
Adrian Bouter
the world
as we know it
blue hydrangea
closing time
the unfinished poem
on a beer mat
hard rain...
my head sinks deeper
in the pillow
cats don't fail me now cold nights come
storm rages in
tall trees
waving at nothing
Simon De Courcey
spindle whorls
she narrates summer
with her hands
her half song
through hawthorns
spring breeze
fugitive moon
quickening ice
in the barrel
Roberta Beach Jacobson
dawn the sky wakens in blue
gravestone
her family name covered
in moss
earth's children
waken one-by-one . . .
Mother Nature's kiss
Randy Brooks
looking both ways
a hitch hiker undresses
the scarecrow
Milky Way sky
she lays back against me
in the canoe
nursing home parking lot
another dead
truck battery
Emil Karla
uncertain steps…
summer rain tapping
on the umbrella
the vanishing cry
of a seagull
night falls on the shore
frozen display
one place after the other
outside the train window
petro c. k.
blue moon
the oldies channel
mum liked
king tide around my ankles I'm not royalty
museum closing hour
Jupiter and Venus
together in the dark
Bryan Rickert
shrunken pond
the herons
taking sides
night walk
the tensile strength
of spiderwebs
island time
what the ocean does
to this stone
cats fight
across the patio
the heat!
Chen-ou Liu
Land of the Free
early leaf fall ...
I drift where the thoughts
of my exile life
take me today [ten years
and an ocean apart]
in dim light
I'm just a temp in the attic
waiting alone
for another gig ...
chants from afar of USA!
midnight wander
my drunk shadow and old dog
set their own paces
skylight
my baby’s laughter
rises to the stars
setting sun flickers
in an empty beer bottle ...
summer's end
Evan Coram
twilight
silhouettes of birds
sift the bones of trees
on a branch dangles
a lost hook
a dragonfly
last cigarette
morning fog thickens
with mourning dove calls
Ruth Holzer
diplopia
everything
looks like everything
moving away--
for the next-door neighbor
a raspberry
a wren
taps at the window
early dusk
Ram Chandran
robin song from backyard...
why does it always remind me
the last words you spoke
before parting …
when I walk through
the meadow mist
the song of the cowherd
oh, how the spring morning begins
on the shore
a few steps forward
a few steps backwards...
the ebb and flow of my life
extending arms towards sun
in morning prayer,
a butterfly touched my forehead
and gone before I opened the eyes
Joy McCall & Roger Jones
the coffin
was lowered into the grave
and on the long bench
the weary bearers rested
while the family wept
it’s been given a new name
but the old store
& block around it
are still the same
I’m happy when I pass it
Joanna Ashwell
becoming a dream
this bone-filled sky
of turning darkness
already the sweep
of hunger fills my sky
finding the corner
where roses twist
within the wall
my heart folds the light
beam by beam
the open rafters
a cuckoo song
finding a way in
willingly lost
within the rainfall…
forest leaves
window frost
the reflection of you
cast in shadow
Joshua St. Claire.
will I ever take another breath?
river stone
apogee and perigee
the circling black vulture
never touches the red pines
nursing home window
three or four chickadees
gather then take flight
Ellen Woods
flat tire halts movement
you step in to fill the need
I'm dizzy with awe
decades self-sufficient
Cala unfolding late spring
sitting next to you
listening to Vivaldi
heat steams rainy panes
red maple in spring
overnight
buds burst blaze of red
sunlit leaves shimmer in wind
fireworks in my soul
Neena Singh
years of labor…
the rusty lawnmower
laid to rest
sitting close
to the blind beggar
a three-legged dog
fog veils the lake…
just the silence
of lapping water
twilight rain
a sonata plays
in the patio
Ravi Kiran
dew covered grass
the footwear
in my hand
waiting room
the seconds hand
not moving
surrounded by
grey and white clouds
a patch of blue
slot canyon
the language
of an eagle
Dennis Owen Frohlich
the lull between storms
the night insects sing,
making up for lost time
Japanese maple
surface leaves of burgundy
hide the green within
endless lavender
a woman becomes a girl
under the sapphire sky
Govind Joshi
monsoon morning
the park trees framing
the couple on the bench
newly married
the eccentricity
of his shirts
whispering
over the toddler's sleep
storytelling father
Mike Fainzilber
soft shell crab
no more chinks
in my armor
dictionary of lost words
dodos
and daffodils…
silencing the silent
only the voiceless
remain
Jerome Berglund
cross
on the wall
swollen belly
scar
tissue
god
is
a
dialectic
M. R. Pelletier
A squirrel turns
an acorn cup--
dharma wheel
Donut shop--
their hands talk silently
over coffee
“Innumerable”--
the number of syllables
in Billy’s haiku
Diane Webster
desert sunrise
a coffee mug steams
on the deck railing
stained glass window
sunshine breaks in and out
church floor dust
midnight fog
illuminated by porch light
blackboard chalk dust
Suzanne Leaf-Brock
fantail guppies--
more branches sprout
on the willow trunk
rapid fire
reciting what
he memorized
summer afternoon
a pause in chit chat
how the quiet fills in
Timothy Daly
my parents
walking ahead of me
through the branches
of the shaded wood
I know I can’t
hold on to them
I thought I was just
teaching kids English
and I guess I did
but whenever the light
filled the classroom
it filled me with truth
she washes prunes
for our porridge
as I take out
the smelly bin
and think
I’ll miss this
Oana Maria Cercel
recreate your life
like tears of separation
and of union,
the dew drops
give life and hope
to dry ground
weathered hands
caressing their grandson
on the bench
one more
sunny day
two sisters
chatting about joy
calm waves
touch their feet
refreshing their past
Biswajit Mishra
crescent moon
a shape growing by turn
on the potter’s wheel
blood test
I choose
my own hand
Mark Gilbert
peeking
over the rim
of the nest
my
emptiness
in conflict
the right side of the brain
and the wrong side
recycled emotions
the metaphor is real
it has weight
Eavonka Ettinger
stepping
through a spiderweb
the cling of dew
snow melt
the brook and I
babble on
Lou Faber
I had loved her once
when the summer’s warmth drew us
into marriage and children.
She has grown colder
always wanting for herself
our love dying like the leaves.
The last ember
in the fireplace
fades slowly to ash.
I huddle under blankets
Shivering, conceding to January.
I touch your shoulder
and trace the curve of your spine
clinging to your nakedness.
I hold the tulip
its violet petals shine
in the early morning sun.
C.X. Turner
Spring
insomnia...
leaves undisturbed
by my window
catkin flowers flourishing
on a bed of clouds
Summer
sea green
within her eyes
a fire…
succumbing
to the depths
Autumn
out of time
my footsteps crunch
the tiny cobnuts
falling witness to this
grey, grey day
Winter
misunderstandings
and coiled complications
burn in a pyre…
ashes scatter in
the wake of mistrust
Sarah Das Gupta
Autumn leaves
multi-coloured quilt
prepare for sleep
cob-mice hibernate
frost's iron fist
Lake frozen
snow flakes scatter
wind blowing from the east
enchanted forest spellbound
Ice Queen rules
Dead world
black branches brood
misty shrouds hide the trees
talk of a lost spring
seeds start to dream
Ron Scully
neap tide
agrees to disagree always
with itself
nautilus shell
hears what I want to hear
my third ear
seagull lost
in the empty sky
climbs higher
Joana Figueiredo
the lost art of making love
solely with words
- handwritten letters
cinema sessions
at the cemetery
I sit and watch
the smallest picture
your life; a tragic short film
with bad protagonists
Envy and all the places
it inhabits
cohabitates
transforms
- being a woman in a men's world
Nitu Yumnam
musical concert
from window to window
sparrows
empty school
all the laughter
before the bang
war and war every patch of the sky dark
Evgeny A. Khvalkov
crisp leaves underfoot,
whispers of the fading sun,
nature’s golden sigh
fog blankets the morn,
trees draped in hues of amber,
silence speaks in gold
as the world slows down,
nature’s lullaby begins,
autumn's gentle breath
Giuliana Ravaglia
magari una musica stamattina
un vagare di note
canta il tuo nome un sinuoso volteggio
ancora la musica
mi sara' rifugio e carezza
maybe some music this morning
a wandering of notes
sings your name a sinuous vault
music again
it will be my refuge and caress
è’ l’eco del tempo quella polvere rosa
che nutre le zolle d’un girotondo
tana di sogni vestiti d’arancio
nell’isola ambrata densa d’attese
polvere e sale fra luci dissolte
nel cerchio che ingabbia l’arcobaleno
that pink dust is the echo of time
that nourishes the clods of a merry-go-round
den of dreams dressed in orange
on the amber island full of expectations
dust and salt among dissolved lights
in the circle that cages the rainbow
Steve Wilkinson
Juroku rensaku
Silent storms rage inside,
my heart feels heavy, as hope subsides.
Clouds cover the morning,
gray whispers of tomorrow.
Beneath bright skies, I sink lower
shadowed by my restless mind.
Smiles hide the silent ache,
dusk swallows a restless heart.
Still waters run deeper,
echoes of pain stir within.
Tipping Point
the cyclone’s
rain drenched summer
music fest--
from kitchen to shearing shed
. . . shifting our camp
making room for rivers
the thought swirling
around
and through—
will we ever learn
tropical storms
fires and floods ...
what if we
the trespassers
on Papatūānuku
*Papatūānuku -Maori name for Mother Earth
Tuyet Van Do
first week home
she asks to visit
her son
feeble legs
on the gravel path
she looks for his name
mid morning rays
under the rose bushes
his plaque among strangers
misty eyes
she places fresh flowers
mother's love unbound
Oscar Luparia
AI
the group of aspiring haijin
will grow
kintsugi
the new cup I broke
deliberately
climate change
my ex-friend told me
it’s a fake problem
wind turbines...
the Earth seems
a little lighter
weekend
my not to-do list
got
l
o
n
g
e
r
Andy McCall
I want the world
filled with the sound
of silence
so I can hear
all the birds and animals
the lone seagull
crossing a sky full of tears
the sound of wings
beating against the wind -
my heart lifts
Tony Marcoff & Joy McCall
I'll drop my dreams
into the ocean
they will become
waves & whales
& stars
tossing my hopes
into the flowing river
they sink down
and settle among
stones and reeds
Joy and Andy McCall
I lit the candle
to make a wish for him
it burned long
leaving the scent of mocha
on the holy air
the candle burns
long into the night
shadows on the wall
my mind like the flame
fragile in the wind
Joy McCall
Island (candlemass 2024)
the brown Bear
is stirring
in the den
the Wild Girl wakes
and starts to sing
the Child
shifts and smiles
in the darkness
the Poet sits musing
on words and meanings
the dappled Horse dozes
under the tall trees
the Raven circles once
then settles high
in the old pine tree
light rain falls
and the full moon shines
on wet grass
the low tide turns
on sand, stones and bones
Maryam Mermey
she pushes her sister
in a wheelchair
hydrangeas turning pink
plush epaulette shark
in her arms
so young for fibromyalgia
farmers’ market prequel
father & son have a moment
leaning back
on the veggie truck
crow stands
in front of Buddha’s face
first day of spring
at the heart
of a heart~shaped garden
peonies
the color of a blush
Jenny Ward Angyal & Joy McCall
I walk
the beautiful Earth
for you,
and send you poems
like footsteps.
I leave the footprint
of my poems
on the damp ground
a small mouse sits there
nibbling paper scraps
David He
prayers
around Gran's bed...
fading lily
an owl cries
on the window sill...
my last guest
the guests
cheer to Gran...
cool sunset
Robert Witmer
singing
to a bowl of fruit
the aging parakeet
alone at the summit
starless
and small
hope
a spark
on the anvil
her needlepoint
in a dusty drawer
rain on a frozen pond
no one to turn
the hourglass over
dust on the easy chair
Adrian Bouter
the world
as we know it
blue hydrangea
closing time
the unfinished poem
on a beer mat
hard rain...
my head sinks deeper
in the pillow
cats don't fail me now cold nights come
storm rages in
tall trees
waving at nothing
Simon De Courcey
spindle whorls
she narrates summer
with her hands
her half song
through hawthorns
spring breeze
fugitive moon
quickening ice
in the barrel
Roberta Beach Jacobson
dawn the sky wakens in blue
gravestone
her family name covered
in moss
earth's children
waken one-by-one . . .
Mother Nature's kiss
Randy Brooks
looking both ways
a hitch hiker undresses
the scarecrow
Milky Way sky
she lays back against me
in the canoe
nursing home parking lot
another dead
truck battery
Emil Karla
uncertain steps…
summer rain tapping
on the umbrella
the vanishing cry
of a seagull
night falls on the shore
frozen display
one place after the other
outside the train window
petro c. k.
blue moon
the oldies channel
mum liked
king tide around my ankles I'm not royalty
museum closing hour
Jupiter and Venus
together in the dark
Bryan Rickert
shrunken pond
the herons
taking sides
night walk
the tensile strength
of spiderwebs
island time
what the ocean does
to this stone
cats fight
across the patio
the heat!
Chen-ou Liu
Land of the Free
early leaf fall ...
I drift where the thoughts
of my exile life
take me today [ten years
and an ocean apart]
in dim light
I'm just a temp in the attic
waiting alone
for another gig ...
chants from afar of USA!
midnight wander
my drunk shadow and old dog
set their own paces
skylight
my baby’s laughter
rises to the stars
setting sun flickers
in an empty beer bottle ...
summer's end
Evan Coram
twilight
silhouettes of birds
sift the bones of trees
on a branch dangles
a lost hook
a dragonfly
last cigarette
morning fog thickens
with mourning dove calls
Ruth Holzer
diplopia
everything
looks like everything
moving away--
for the next-door neighbor
a raspberry
a wren
taps at the window
early dusk
Ram Chandran
robin song from backyard...
why does it always remind me
the last words you spoke
before parting …
when I walk through
the meadow mist
the song of the cowherd
oh, how the spring morning begins
on the shore
a few steps forward
a few steps backwards...
the ebb and flow of my life
extending arms towards sun
in morning prayer,
a butterfly touched my forehead
and gone before I opened the eyes
Joy McCall & Roger Jones
the coffin
was lowered into the grave
and on the long bench
the weary bearers rested
while the family wept
it’s been given a new name
but the old store
& block around it
are still the same
I’m happy when I pass it
Joanna Ashwell
becoming a dream
this bone-filled sky
of turning darkness
already the sweep
of hunger fills my sky
finding the corner
where roses twist
within the wall
my heart folds the light
beam by beam
the open rafters
a cuckoo song
finding a way in
willingly lost
within the rainfall…
forest leaves
window frost
the reflection of you
cast in shadow
Joshua St. Claire.
will I ever take another breath?
river stone
apogee and perigee
the circling black vulture
never touches the red pines
nursing home window
three or four chickadees
gather then take flight
Ellen Woods
flat tire halts movement
you step in to fill the need
I'm dizzy with awe
decades self-sufficient
Cala unfolding late spring
sitting next to you
listening to Vivaldi
heat steams rainy panes
red maple in spring
overnight
buds burst blaze of red
sunlit leaves shimmer in wind
fireworks in my soul
Neena Singh
years of labor…
the rusty lawnmower
laid to rest
sitting close
to the blind beggar
a three-legged dog
fog veils the lake…
just the silence
of lapping water
twilight rain
a sonata plays
in the patio
Ravi Kiran
dew covered grass
the footwear
in my hand
waiting room
the seconds hand
not moving
surrounded by
grey and white clouds
a patch of blue
slot canyon
the language
of an eagle
Dennis Owen Frohlich
the lull between storms
the night insects sing,
making up for lost time
Japanese maple
surface leaves of burgundy
hide the green within
endless lavender
a woman becomes a girl
under the sapphire sky
Govind Joshi
monsoon morning
the park trees framing
the couple on the bench
newly married
the eccentricity
of his shirts
whispering
over the toddler's sleep
storytelling father
Mike Fainzilber
soft shell crab
no more chinks
in my armor
dictionary of lost words
dodos
and daffodils…
silencing the silent
only the voiceless
remain
Jerome Berglund
cross
on the wall
swollen belly
scar
tissue
god
is
a
dialectic
M. R. Pelletier
A squirrel turns
an acorn cup--
dharma wheel
Donut shop--
their hands talk silently
over coffee
“Innumerable”--
the number of syllables
in Billy’s haiku
Diane Webster
desert sunrise
a coffee mug steams
on the deck railing
stained glass window
sunshine breaks in and out
church floor dust
midnight fog
illuminated by porch light
blackboard chalk dust
Suzanne Leaf-Brock
fantail guppies--
more branches sprout
on the willow trunk
rapid fire
reciting what
he memorized
summer afternoon
a pause in chit chat
how the quiet fills in
Timothy Daly
my parents
walking ahead of me
through the branches
of the shaded wood
I know I can’t
hold on to them
I thought I was just
teaching kids English
and I guess I did
but whenever the light
filled the classroom
it filled me with truth
she washes prunes
for our porridge
as I take out
the smelly bin
and think
I’ll miss this
Oana Maria Cercel
recreate your life
like tears of separation
and of union,
the dew drops
give life and hope
to dry ground
weathered hands
caressing their grandson
on the bench
one more
sunny day
two sisters
chatting about joy
calm waves
touch their feet
refreshing their past
Biswajit Mishra
crescent moon
a shape growing by turn
on the potter’s wheel
blood test
I choose
my own hand
Mark Gilbert
peeking
over the rim
of the nest
my
emptiness
in conflict
the right side of the brain
and the wrong side
recycled emotions
the metaphor is real
it has weight
Eavonka Ettinger
stepping
through a spiderweb
the cling of dew
snow melt
the brook and I
babble on
Lou Faber
I had loved her once
when the summer’s warmth drew us
into marriage and children.
She has grown colder
always wanting for herself
our love dying like the leaves.
The last ember
in the fireplace
fades slowly to ash.
I huddle under blankets
Shivering, conceding to January.
I touch your shoulder
and trace the curve of your spine
clinging to your nakedness.
I hold the tulip
its violet petals shine
in the early morning sun.
C.X. Turner
Spring
insomnia...
leaves undisturbed
by my window
catkin flowers flourishing
on a bed of clouds
Summer
sea green
within her eyes
a fire…
succumbing
to the depths
Autumn
out of time
my footsteps crunch
the tiny cobnuts
falling witness to this
grey, grey day
Winter
misunderstandings
and coiled complications
burn in a pyre…
ashes scatter in
the wake of mistrust
Sarah Das Gupta
Autumn leaves
multi-coloured quilt
prepare for sleep
cob-mice hibernate
frost's iron fist
Lake frozen
snow flakes scatter
wind blowing from the east
enchanted forest spellbound
Ice Queen rules
Dead world
black branches brood
misty shrouds hide the trees
talk of a lost spring
seeds start to dream
Ron Scully
neap tide
agrees to disagree always
with itself
nautilus shell
hears what I want to hear
my third ear
seagull lost
in the empty sky
climbs higher
Joana Figueiredo
the lost art of making love
solely with words
- handwritten letters
cinema sessions
at the cemetery
I sit and watch
the smallest picture
your life; a tragic short film
with bad protagonists
Envy and all the places
it inhabits
cohabitates
transforms
- being a woman in a men's world
Nitu Yumnam
musical concert
from window to window
sparrows
empty school
all the laughter
before the bang
war and war every patch of the sky dark
Evgeny A. Khvalkov
crisp leaves underfoot,
whispers of the fading sun,
nature’s golden sigh
fog blankets the morn,
trees draped in hues of amber,
silence speaks in gold
as the world slows down,
nature’s lullaby begins,
autumn's gentle breath
Giuliana Ravaglia
magari una musica stamattina
un vagare di note
canta il tuo nome un sinuoso volteggio
ancora la musica
mi sara' rifugio e carezza
maybe some music this morning
a wandering of notes
sings your name a sinuous vault
music again
it will be my refuge and caress
è’ l’eco del tempo quella polvere rosa
che nutre le zolle d’un girotondo
tana di sogni vestiti d’arancio
nell’isola ambrata densa d’attese
polvere e sale fra luci dissolte
nel cerchio che ingabbia l’arcobaleno
that pink dust is the echo of time
that nourishes the clods of a merry-go-round
den of dreams dressed in orange
on the amber island full of expectations
dust and salt among dissolved lights
in the circle that cages the rainbow
Steve Wilkinson
Juroku rensaku
Silent storms rage inside,
my heart feels heavy, as hope subsides.
Clouds cover the morning,
gray whispers of tomorrow.
Beneath bright skies, I sink lower
shadowed by my restless mind.
Smiles hide the silent ache,
dusk swallows a restless heart.
Still waters run deeper,
echoes of pain stir within.
Tanshi Art
Debbie Strange
Jerome Berglund
Anthony Lusardi
