The Bamboo Hut Issue Two 2022
Orrin PréJean & Joy McCall
morning coolness
on the balcony
a mug full of coffee
sleep still in these
forty yr old bones
reading Zhuangzi
I travel back in time
two milennia
and five thousand miles
and deep within
how often
have i read Li Bai's
Jueju about the bed
and moonlight then
returned to my life?
Paul Smith & Joy McCall
tattered edges
and yet
each day
is still
a blessing
I try to mend
my life's fraying cloth
as it fades
but the thread is thin
and the needle blunt
Bryan Rickert
deep winter
I pull her warmth
closer to mine
moonbathing
the starkness
of sycamores
winter winds
the chill
of regrets
Dee Allen
REDUCED
To
Numbers on uniforms,
Headcounts in cells, statistics on
News reports--Jailhouse
Cyphers.
DESIGNATED ENEMY
Walks
Cellblocks, shouts commands,
Beats cons into submission for
Power & thrills:
C.O.*
_______________
W: 10.13.21
*Corrections Officer.
Another name for "prison guard".
Robert Hirschfield
big purple radio
the smell of rain
in Crosley Field
The old man’s
nostalgia
for what never was
Bisshie
sleet slashing
through the weeping willow:
first grey hair
white out no longer cat tracks
Ronald Scully
glass jar
full of riverrocks
from the dam
bottom
bookshelf
pile of leaves
10,000 puzzle pieces
first one fits
Theresa A. Cancro
pink lady's slipper
finding my way
in the forest
paperwhites
under the skylight
the sound of sleet
first snowfall . . .
reaching on tiptoe
for the flour
Jerome Berglund
eye of Ra :: those thorns which guard the nectar
flattop grill
enough sunny side ups
to feed an army
daisies
between hard place Goldilocks lays her head beside Aristotle’s and rock
petro c. k.
mum's visit
turning around all the books
on erotica
copper moon . . .
change is in the air
heads or tails
Anthony M. Lusardi
spring twilight . . .
enchanted by the shape
of her silhouette
pounding rain--
the silence that follows
our argument
does the rain envy
the falling cherry blossoms?
or does it weep?
Oscar Luparia
FOOD STORIES
sweet watermellon
even more sweet
when summer begins
Sunday work:
my pumpkin pie
is baked
will she still kiss me?
the onions I cooked
for my lunch
cheap restaurant –
artificial flowers on the tables
more fresh than the soup of the day
Cantonese fried rice...
my attempts with chopsticks
continue
Samo Kreutz
first amendment
finally in unison
barking and chirping
auction ...
not sold to anyone
the crow's shriek
Cherrie Taylor & Geoffrey Winch
Elemental
weaving a web of dreams
she catches the breeze
in her hand
in the rustling of leaves
a message or a sigh
" fine as a beeswing
a rare thing"
. . . running wild
quietly rippling
a meandering stream
knows which way to go
leaving the shadows
she swims upstream
her open book
left in the shade
a breeze turns another page
Geoffrey Winch & Cherrie Taylor
Brush Strokes
her front door
repainted
since he last called
the letter still in his hand
he turns to go . . .
a tidy mind says
take your litter home
but if one has no home . . .
home . . . our home
can time open up
her heart?
just a crack in a wall
leaves it open to the world
painting a new life
he walks
into the light
Geoffrey Winch & Cherrie Taylor
Doors: Open and Shut
the elevator stops
at every floor
doors slide open
every landing is the same
but a different colour
doors opening
the disembodied voice declares
outside the Queen Room
I lift the sign
Do not disturb
the next-door-room’s
muffled TV voice
reading the early news
so disturbing to those
wishing to shut out the world
you sleep on...
head buried
under the pillow
the news
is not good
a ghost figure haunts
my world of dreams until
I’m awakened
by the closing of
a door
I watch as
the lift doors
slide open...
your perfume
fills the air
Don Thompson
Finches
These seem to ignore each other
As we do in a crowd--
Jittery but isolated
Beneath raspberry hoodies.
A flock that’s one and one and one
Like bits and pieces
Of loneliness
Crumbled from an immense solitude.
Sheet Lightning
When an angel opens his journal,
Illuminating the sky,
No one knows what he’s written,
Who has no need for aides memoire--
Who writes with the invisible ink
Of light on light.
Roberta Beach Jacobson
fun
erased by rain
hopscotch
drought
hanging my doubts
out to dry
tending crops
field warriors
with plows
Elena Malec
steaming tea
the cat's whiskers pierce
the frigid air
autumn sky
the sound of rain
on a tortoise shell
chrysanthemum leaves
the scent of approaching
winter
Frances Carleton & Marilyn Humbert
The Ticking Clock
on the lush verge
a decaying caress
meaningless
to many humans--
I weep for your legacy
country drive
through acre on acre
of charred stumps,
two years on
no regeneration yet
turtles migrate
to different ponds
after rains
dandelions bloom
—the ticking clock
in the riverbank
below the waterline
a burrow
all the mysteries
hidden from sight
your ballet
causes ripples
on the water
rakali dancing
brings forgotten hope
Margi Abraham & Marilyn Humbert
Signs and Shadows
low sun
bronzes city roofs
last light
holds me at the window
my back to the shadows
faint shapes
flood my mind…
long ago
you and I together
at the river cutting
morning shower
my bathroom mirror
fogs up . . .
unveils a love heart
you traced last night
I search
for signs you passed
this way…
a broken twig, a bent stem
along the rose petal trail
weak light
through cold windows
tree shadows
play on our bedroom wall
. . . on my wavering heart
Hifsa Ashraf
Paris Agreement
the v of seagulls
lost in the fog
summer ends
in the birdbath
white feathers
draught lake lily the last of its colours
Kevin Browne
the mind’s
empty vessel
breakfast dishes
walking the rails
through the fog of youth
vanishing point
Nika
after the frog
the silence
of water striders
another year
older than father
cherry blossoms
flowing down
the waterfall
crow's shadow
Adrian Bouter
sea birds circle
around the cliffs
the wake of a boat
all pieces
fall in place here
empty bottle
sea glass
the future is the past
when you look at it
Cullen Whisenhunt
Mountain shouts in stone
spires overshadowed by cloud
--cotton-silent sky
morning rain:
stars distilled
as droplets in cedar
Eavonka Ettinger
in the pew
the scent of lilacs
grandmother
adjusting
the height on her walker
mom shrinks again
Carmela Marino
last chemo
absorbed by the sun
dewdrops
summer rain
my hair grows back
little by little
night rain
only my footprints
follow me
R.C. Thomas
slowly finding
the widest hole...
crow's sluggish earthworm
stone rubbing
the Zingel asper makes
a body of work
Uchechukwu Onyedikam & Christina Chin
offerings
smell of the lone river
they clean
the grave moss
for ancestral worship
the look-alike
silver-haired old
siblings
moon and stars glitter
grandma's jubilee
John Grey
a golden dragonfly
camouflaged in pond’s stealth
a twinkle in the darkling
firecracker sky
elemental rain
pings off outdoor café tables
Minal Sarosh
raindrops
clinging to the leaf
a love poem
green tea
the birdsong chasing
my thoughts
Jenny Fraser
rose clouds
on the shoreline
the world fades away
a breaking wave
in the shallows
again I rebuild
letting go
all the soft sounds
of the sea
Tony Williams
high summer
the pond so green
I could walk on it
wildflowers
a way
to rise above
Mike Gallagher
twilight hour
fearing closeness more
than distance
south wind
boisterous on the lake
Canada geese
best forgotten
in the sweetness of its night
a long day
Ram Chandran
every monsoon season
grandma would say
her wedding took place
amidst heavy rains...
this year's monsoon is here
but not those words in her deep voice
gone with her
the kiss on my forehead
and the whisper
of good morning
with smudged kajal on her eyes
she bids goodbye...
all my way, her huge black eyes
stare at me through clouds
*Kajal is a black herbal paste used in India as a cosmetic on the eyelashes.
Ben Gaa
restless night
even the wind
changing directions
the cat snuggling
on top of us snuggling
Sunday morning rain
Thomas O'Connell
Walks with my father
Ended by the alarm clock
Vanished once again
Writing haiku lines
The songs of fire engines
Play in the background
Anna Cates
The Undead
vampire lovers--
fallen petals
of red rose
first stars--
on the castle's lowest level
casket hinges creak
in their garden
only nightshades--
mischievous moon
bat dung--
only the gargoyles
enjoy the smell
The Dragon
in a lost world
in cryptic art
in ice age chill
its memory lingers--
the leviathan
the warlock
didn’t try to temp him
with a baited meat hook
only warned his pupils,
Play with fire: get burned.
Sean O’Connor
autumn equinox –
he leaves space for my name
the old stone cutter
All Souls Night
over my father’s grave
the stars are shining
tidying his grave;
with no need to speak
this Father’s Day
Tuyet Van Do
Sixteen Days
ambulance sirens
paramedics
ask for
her Mum's
vaccination status
updating family
news from ICU
she asks
herself
the meaning of life
forward planning
with family
she cries
of missed
opportunities
welcoming Spring
her Mum
now medically stable
ready for
discharge
seeing her Mum
rests in own bed
tears of joy
kissing
her lips
Maya Daneva
salt on the beach
after the sea storm
my grief
mudflat hiking
this sandpiper
showing me the path
looking as if
I'm going to cry
dense fog
Billy Pauly & Julie Schwerin
from the thicket
after frost . . .
a basket of sparkleberries
scraping a circle of window glass
the size of the moon
approaching April
I save some daylight
for the songs to come
what's left of the shells
pushed from the nest
spinning wheel . . .
I ask if it's the new
year already
a child's finger traces
the mobius strip
M. R. Defibaugh & Christina Chin
autumn near
she begins to write
more haiku
he reads them under
the river birch
withered pampas
still a single blade
points me home
in a dream
within a dream
Michael Hough & Christina Chin
stray kittens
in a recycle box
they purr
missing only heartbeats
of a mother cat
my breath like thunder
echoes in these hills
the drumming summer rain
fills the shallow wells
and empty harvesters
Joy McCall & Steve Wilkinson
I sat under the privet tree
in the early autumn sunshine
and above my head a robin sang
the sweetest, clearest song
Simple things, these are all we need
The red cap of the woodpecker
Flashes out from the birdfeeder
In the sun’s first rays
Robert Witmer
two chairs
in the overgrown garden . . .
alone at the window
thunder
the iron smell of rain
before the sheets of steel
Erin J. Jones
Close the door
let the memories remain
such as they are
A bold blue moon
on all hallows eve
the world did not end
Such a lonesome sound
a lone car traveling
into the night
Robert Witmer
two chairs
in the overgrown garden . . .
alone at the window
thunder
the iron smell of rain
before the sheets of steel
Steve Wilkinson
Two tricubes
No more God
religion
or con men
I reject
the doctrines
of these frauds
Dressed to kill
with poison
on their lips
Looking back
down through time
I see it
The slow fade
away from
piety
No more faith
to bind me
to falsehood
morning coolness
on the balcony
a mug full of coffee
sleep still in these
forty yr old bones
reading Zhuangzi
I travel back in time
two milennia
and five thousand miles
and deep within
how often
have i read Li Bai's
Jueju about the bed
and moonlight then
returned to my life?
Paul Smith & Joy McCall
tattered edges
and yet
each day
is still
a blessing
I try to mend
my life's fraying cloth
as it fades
but the thread is thin
and the needle blunt
Bryan Rickert
deep winter
I pull her warmth
closer to mine
moonbathing
the starkness
of sycamores
winter winds
the chill
of regrets
Dee Allen
REDUCED
To
Numbers on uniforms,
Headcounts in cells, statistics on
News reports--Jailhouse
Cyphers.
DESIGNATED ENEMY
Walks
Cellblocks, shouts commands,
Beats cons into submission for
Power & thrills:
C.O.*
_______________
W: 10.13.21
*Corrections Officer.
Another name for "prison guard".
Robert Hirschfield
big purple radio
the smell of rain
in Crosley Field
The old man’s
nostalgia
for what never was
Bisshie
sleet slashing
through the weeping willow:
first grey hair
white out no longer cat tracks
Ronald Scully
glass jar
full of riverrocks
from the dam
bottom
bookshelf
pile of leaves
10,000 puzzle pieces
first one fits
Theresa A. Cancro
pink lady's slipper
finding my way
in the forest
paperwhites
under the skylight
the sound of sleet
first snowfall . . .
reaching on tiptoe
for the flour
Jerome Berglund
eye of Ra :: those thorns which guard the nectar
flattop grill
enough sunny side ups
to feed an army
daisies
between hard place Goldilocks lays her head beside Aristotle’s and rock
petro c. k.
mum's visit
turning around all the books
on erotica
copper moon . . .
change is in the air
heads or tails
Anthony M. Lusardi
spring twilight . . .
enchanted by the shape
of her silhouette
pounding rain--
the silence that follows
our argument
does the rain envy
the falling cherry blossoms?
or does it weep?
Oscar Luparia
FOOD STORIES
sweet watermellon
even more sweet
when summer begins
Sunday work:
my pumpkin pie
is baked
will she still kiss me?
the onions I cooked
for my lunch
cheap restaurant –
artificial flowers on the tables
more fresh than the soup of the day
Cantonese fried rice...
my attempts with chopsticks
continue
Samo Kreutz
first amendment
finally in unison
barking and chirping
auction ...
not sold to anyone
the crow's shriek
Cherrie Taylor & Geoffrey Winch
Elemental
weaving a web of dreams
she catches the breeze
in her hand
in the rustling of leaves
a message or a sigh
" fine as a beeswing
a rare thing"
. . . running wild
quietly rippling
a meandering stream
knows which way to go
leaving the shadows
she swims upstream
her open book
left in the shade
a breeze turns another page
Geoffrey Winch & Cherrie Taylor
Brush Strokes
her front door
repainted
since he last called
the letter still in his hand
he turns to go . . .
a tidy mind says
take your litter home
but if one has no home . . .
home . . . our home
can time open up
her heart?
just a crack in a wall
leaves it open to the world
painting a new life
he walks
into the light
Geoffrey Winch & Cherrie Taylor
Doors: Open and Shut
the elevator stops
at every floor
doors slide open
every landing is the same
but a different colour
doors opening
the disembodied voice declares
outside the Queen Room
I lift the sign
Do not disturb
the next-door-room’s
muffled TV voice
reading the early news
so disturbing to those
wishing to shut out the world
you sleep on...
head buried
under the pillow
the news
is not good
a ghost figure haunts
my world of dreams until
I’m awakened
by the closing of
a door
I watch as
the lift doors
slide open...
your perfume
fills the air
Don Thompson
Finches
These seem to ignore each other
As we do in a crowd--
Jittery but isolated
Beneath raspberry hoodies.
A flock that’s one and one and one
Like bits and pieces
Of loneliness
Crumbled from an immense solitude.
Sheet Lightning
When an angel opens his journal,
Illuminating the sky,
No one knows what he’s written,
Who has no need for aides memoire--
Who writes with the invisible ink
Of light on light.
Roberta Beach Jacobson
fun
erased by rain
hopscotch
drought
hanging my doubts
out to dry
tending crops
field warriors
with plows
Elena Malec
steaming tea
the cat's whiskers pierce
the frigid air
autumn sky
the sound of rain
on a tortoise shell
chrysanthemum leaves
the scent of approaching
winter
Frances Carleton & Marilyn Humbert
The Ticking Clock
on the lush verge
a decaying caress
meaningless
to many humans--
I weep for your legacy
country drive
through acre on acre
of charred stumps,
two years on
no regeneration yet
turtles migrate
to different ponds
after rains
dandelions bloom
—the ticking clock
in the riverbank
below the waterline
a burrow
all the mysteries
hidden from sight
your ballet
causes ripples
on the water
rakali dancing
brings forgotten hope
Margi Abraham & Marilyn Humbert
Signs and Shadows
low sun
bronzes city roofs
last light
holds me at the window
my back to the shadows
faint shapes
flood my mind…
long ago
you and I together
at the river cutting
morning shower
my bathroom mirror
fogs up . . .
unveils a love heart
you traced last night
I search
for signs you passed
this way…
a broken twig, a bent stem
along the rose petal trail
weak light
through cold windows
tree shadows
play on our bedroom wall
. . . on my wavering heart
Hifsa Ashraf
Paris Agreement
the v of seagulls
lost in the fog
summer ends
in the birdbath
white feathers
draught lake lily the last of its colours
Kevin Browne
the mind’s
empty vessel
breakfast dishes
walking the rails
through the fog of youth
vanishing point
Nika
after the frog
the silence
of water striders
another year
older than father
cherry blossoms
flowing down
the waterfall
crow's shadow
Adrian Bouter
sea birds circle
around the cliffs
the wake of a boat
all pieces
fall in place here
empty bottle
sea glass
the future is the past
when you look at it
Cullen Whisenhunt
Mountain shouts in stone
spires overshadowed by cloud
--cotton-silent sky
morning rain:
stars distilled
as droplets in cedar
Eavonka Ettinger
in the pew
the scent of lilacs
grandmother
adjusting
the height on her walker
mom shrinks again
Carmela Marino
last chemo
absorbed by the sun
dewdrops
summer rain
my hair grows back
little by little
night rain
only my footprints
follow me
R.C. Thomas
slowly finding
the widest hole...
crow's sluggish earthworm
stone rubbing
the Zingel asper makes
a body of work
Uchechukwu Onyedikam & Christina Chin
offerings
smell of the lone river
they clean
the grave moss
for ancestral worship
the look-alike
silver-haired old
siblings
moon and stars glitter
grandma's jubilee
John Grey
a golden dragonfly
camouflaged in pond’s stealth
a twinkle in the darkling
firecracker sky
elemental rain
pings off outdoor café tables
Minal Sarosh
raindrops
clinging to the leaf
a love poem
green tea
the birdsong chasing
my thoughts
Jenny Fraser
rose clouds
on the shoreline
the world fades away
a breaking wave
in the shallows
again I rebuild
letting go
all the soft sounds
of the sea
Tony Williams
high summer
the pond so green
I could walk on it
wildflowers
a way
to rise above
Mike Gallagher
twilight hour
fearing closeness more
than distance
south wind
boisterous on the lake
Canada geese
best forgotten
in the sweetness of its night
a long day
Ram Chandran
every monsoon season
grandma would say
her wedding took place
amidst heavy rains...
this year's monsoon is here
but not those words in her deep voice
gone with her
the kiss on my forehead
and the whisper
of good morning
with smudged kajal on her eyes
she bids goodbye...
all my way, her huge black eyes
stare at me through clouds
*Kajal is a black herbal paste used in India as a cosmetic on the eyelashes.
Ben Gaa
restless night
even the wind
changing directions
the cat snuggling
on top of us snuggling
Sunday morning rain
Thomas O'Connell
Walks with my father
Ended by the alarm clock
Vanished once again
Writing haiku lines
The songs of fire engines
Play in the background
Anna Cates
The Undead
vampire lovers--
fallen petals
of red rose
first stars--
on the castle's lowest level
casket hinges creak
in their garden
only nightshades--
mischievous moon
bat dung--
only the gargoyles
enjoy the smell
The Dragon
in a lost world
in cryptic art
in ice age chill
its memory lingers--
the leviathan
the warlock
didn’t try to temp him
with a baited meat hook
only warned his pupils,
Play with fire: get burned.
Sean O’Connor
autumn equinox –
he leaves space for my name
the old stone cutter
All Souls Night
over my father’s grave
the stars are shining
tidying his grave;
with no need to speak
this Father’s Day
Tuyet Van Do
Sixteen Days
ambulance sirens
paramedics
ask for
her Mum's
vaccination status
updating family
news from ICU
she asks
herself
the meaning of life
forward planning
with family
she cries
of missed
opportunities
welcoming Spring
her Mum
now medically stable
ready for
discharge
seeing her Mum
rests in own bed
tears of joy
kissing
her lips
Maya Daneva
salt on the beach
after the sea storm
my grief
mudflat hiking
this sandpiper
showing me the path
looking as if
I'm going to cry
dense fog
Billy Pauly & Julie Schwerin
from the thicket
after frost . . .
a basket of sparkleberries
scraping a circle of window glass
the size of the moon
approaching April
I save some daylight
for the songs to come
what's left of the shells
pushed from the nest
spinning wheel . . .
I ask if it's the new
year already
a child's finger traces
the mobius strip
M. R. Defibaugh & Christina Chin
autumn near
she begins to write
more haiku
he reads them under
the river birch
withered pampas
still a single blade
points me home
in a dream
within a dream
Michael Hough & Christina Chin
stray kittens
in a recycle box
they purr
missing only heartbeats
of a mother cat
my breath like thunder
echoes in these hills
the drumming summer rain
fills the shallow wells
and empty harvesters
Joy McCall & Steve Wilkinson
I sat under the privet tree
in the early autumn sunshine
and above my head a robin sang
the sweetest, clearest song
Simple things, these are all we need
The red cap of the woodpecker
Flashes out from the birdfeeder
In the sun’s first rays
Robert Witmer
two chairs
in the overgrown garden . . .
alone at the window
thunder
the iron smell of rain
before the sheets of steel
Erin J. Jones
Close the door
let the memories remain
such as they are
A bold blue moon
on all hallows eve
the world did not end
Such a lonesome sound
a lone car traveling
into the night
Robert Witmer
two chairs
in the overgrown garden . . .
alone at the window
thunder
the iron smell of rain
before the sheets of steel
Steve Wilkinson
Two tricubes
No more God
religion
or con men
I reject
the doctrines
of these frauds
Dressed to kill
with poison
on their lips
Looking back
down through time
I see it
The slow fade
away from
piety
No more faith
to bind me
to falsehood
TanshiArt
Christina Chin
Debbie Strange
