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The Bamboo Hut September 2023

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The Bamboo Hut September 2023 (Number 2 2023)



David He Zhuanglang


rising sun
I hold a tomato
to the light


I read
my wife's lips...
rose bud


cold moon --
a red leaf stuck
to the frozen pond




Tuyet Van Do

First Job


in uniform
behind
the counter
she starts
first training shift


shadowing team leader
she
smiles
at clients
on her first day


climbing steps of life
she
widens her circle
make new friends
at work




Tuyet Van Do and Trang Luong (in order)


jump from his slumber --
sound of cracking
biscuits


end of the day
in my room
a wagging tail




Tuyet Van Do, Emi Do, Eva Do


green velvet
swirling on the dance floor
midyear prom


glittering gem
on slender neck
dazzling as I


graceful she walks
enchanted she attracts
illuminating she is




Paired tanka, by Larry Kimmel & Joy McCall

and his mind
like dandelion fluff
blown away,
blown away
till no memories are left

I watch the seedheads
blowing in the wind
and out of sight
are those we loved and lost
flowering ... somewhere?



if we could only
miniaturize ourselves
say about
six inches tall
we’d have no climate crises

now I can't shake
the vision of all
those tiny people
racing about in the grass
and riding squirrels



I gaze
out the window
but don't really notice
the small doings
in the trees and grass

blackbirds
sitting on branches
looking my way
where is the joy
that used to bring me?



I'm still here
many I love are not
a two-sided coin

that gets thinner
year by year







 Joshua St. Claire


the endless sea a cirrostratus sky

social media
dogs barking
at their imaginations



a wave no one else hears crashing insomnia




Tony Marcoff & Joy McCall


once I dreamed
of Miyajima 
through the gateway to the sun 
into a long ago 
far away dawn 
 
the sad mouse
swims through
the torii gate
seeking rest
in holy dreams




Jonathan Day & Joy McCall




the Thinker – he who navigates
the seas that lie 'twixt what? and why?
knows often, in those trackless straits
to pause and look up at the sky
 
the Dreamer - she who, careless, rides
the winds that blow from wilds above
watches for him to reach the shore
and looks into the face of love
 








Joy McCall


Sveyn Forkbeard's meadow, Norwich
 
I'd like to buy the meadow
and be a meadow mouse
and leave
my ailing bones behind
in the human house
 
I'd like to live with weeds
and eat grasses, berries,
seeds and leaves
and things that fall
from the friendly trees
 
I'd like to sleep
among the roots where dreams
come easy, slow
where a mouse feels safe and sheltered
where hawk and hound don't go
 
a mouse's life may not be long
the weeks and months
will speedy pass
until he lies still and dreamless
in the meadow grass
 
small bones
beneath the buttercups
small spirit running wild and free
a field mouse in a meadow -
a fine eternity






Geoffrey Winch

Feeling at home
 
around the house
photographs of grandparents
snapshots of lives
 
old cracked saucer
blending my curry spices   
 
the CD plays old-time
your closed eyes wide awake
to dancing days
 
our blackbird’s evening song 
we tune in 
 
at each quarter turn
of the stairs
a thankful sigh
 
in our bed tonight 
a presence  
 




Tints of the day
 
on pink paper
the white space 
around a poem
 
single flash
I recall the kingfisher
 
new patch of sunshine
our red rose puts out
a new shoot 
 
wondering if it’s faded
flag on the moon  
 
brushes, tins stored away 
‘forget-me-knot’
the small patch I missed 
 
brain sieving words 
grey mist falls  
 




Beatriu Delaveda 


We’ll always have Swindon
 
The last time I saw
Swindon it looked nothing like
I remembered though
I can’t recall spending time
ever near Swindon at all




Houseman with Alzheimers haiku
 
 
Do you recall the
time you won your town the race?
 
Obviously not.




Trees falling
 
If a tree falls in the forest
and Elon Musk doesn’t hear it
does it make a sound?






Oscar Luparia


ALL YOU CAN SEE

morning walk
despite the thick fog
I clean my glasses

without my glasses
it's an impressionist painting
the garden downstairs

flying through the universe
the star map and a magnifying glass
for my presbyopia



new glasses
not yet a good reason
to watch TV news


fashion glasses
the crucial function
of the nose




Randy Brooks


old farm truck
only starts
for grandpa
 
shadow puppet
grandpa’s fingers transform
a hawk into a rabbit
 
Kentucky Derby consolation
the shade beneath
an extravagant hat




Jerome Berglund 

   air
     raid 
    siren  
  beneath
     the
skyscrapers




ji and mon 
the origins 
of love 




wind shifts the snake’s maraca






Roberta Beach Jacobson


heatwave I miss the sound of snow




putting all our crypto in one imaginary basket




butterfly net
almost catching the magic
of stars 






Erin Jones 


beauty passes
her perfume lingers
in the summer air


wearing of the green
history and heritage
and a pint of Guinness 


sadness in your eyes
how cold this summer night
dreams drifting away




C.X. Turner

looking in
from the outside
I trap time . . . bones
in the hourglass
falling 
into solitude


walking into dusk,
the way leaves move
when nothing but light rain lightly touches
tears puddle my eyes closed
I pick up the pieces of lost days
and go home


in rocky coves
I hide, sheltering
love’s innocence 








Nitu Yumnam




the tranquil lake
a silver strand of hair
in between
how slow the water lapping
and how fast I'm ageing!


a clang of dishes
amid kitchen mess
my child asks: “You okay?”
I learn
what love really is 


teaching lessons 
on highs and lows…
on the still lake
the mirror image
of the trees




James Penha

the faith of a cult
in demagogues and liars--
AI


season without masks--
vaccinated and boosted
surely positive




Adrian Bouter


the butterfly
resembling a leaf
indian summer


high on the cliff
a white bird rules the waves
local politics


food for thought
in the light of Christmas
an ivory madonna






Bryan Rickert


sudden rain
I share an awning
with sparrows


ebb tide the urchin’s shrinking universe


persimmon ridge
all the deer gone
by morning






Chen-ou Liu


Life as a Chinese Temp


restructuring...
my cubicle shrinks
my salary, too


look of this cashier
I set aside chips, eggs, milk...
even the rice


finding new gigs ...
in my mind's eye these faces
of landlord after landlord 


you're let go ...
this twist to the boss's mouth
in my midnight dream




One Day at a Time


test results
this carrousel
of thoughts


early leaffall
the silence between me
and the cancer doctor 


hospital garden
the evening breeze carries
my prayer








a leatherback surfaces 
with its head through a hole
in driftwood ...
I gaze beyond moonlit ripples
to the homeland I left behind


Note: The leatherback turtle can travel 16,000 km (10,000 miles) or more each year, crossing the entire Pacific Ocean in search of jellyfish.




Dennis Owen Frohlich


At the meadow's edge,
a broken birdcage sits on
a picnic table


The fog could hide
anything--a river, a forest,
a mountain, an ocean


Quiet, still evening--
ripples on a placid lake--
from what?




Mark Gilbert

stone memorial
to the Great War
sixty-one names


austerity
my favourite tie
the blackest


tidy bungalow
he asks if his wife
is upstairs




Anthony Lusardi


power outage--
between raindrops
a firefly’s glow



perfect temperature:
a bottle of jägermeister
submerged in snow



picture a cow
            lying in the tree’s shade.
                        do you feel a yawn?









Tony Williams


late                                   
flowering
our autistic son



after midnight        
raindrops skiffling
on a tilted pane



writer’s block…                      
the poppy pod
not rattling





Robert Witmer


woodsmoke
the wind turns
speckled leaves


a spring wind
fluffs the willows
raindrops


her final ballet
pinned to the wall
forgotten wings




Lysa Collins


acacia shade--
the fastidious preen
of a ponderous cat



great blue heron--
how carefully it steps
into the setting sun




picking their way
through the tangled scrub--
raindrops







Samo Kreutz

blooming daisies ...
she flips through a book
about puberty


gull's screech ...
that restless sea
in our kiss


waterless –
the scent of her
last kiss






M. R. Pelletier


Climate change--
   using our umbrellas
   for shade
 
Brittle summer--
   the pine we planted
   drops ten thousand needles
 
Excessive heat warning--
   more dead flies
   on the windowsill






Jennifer Gurney


when I hold
your hand in mine
I touch eternity


Note: dedicated to my 104-year-old grandma, who passed last year.





awake, this new day
glimmers of hope peaking through
with the rising sun


tonight's first star ...
the one I've chosen to hold
my wishes






Diane Webster


Fog reflects off 
invisible lake... 
faith


Fireweed –
stone’s throw away 
ripples on the lake 


Popcorn kernel
abandoned on kitchen floor 
a cat pounces 




Ben Gaa


cafe table
the scent of
everyone’s coffee



from my hand to hers
the morning warmth
of coffee



falling out
of her frequency
radio static





Tomislav Sjekloća

grandma's bedtime stories
overdose
of happy endings


first sun rays
the spider no longer climbing
the invisible thread


night storm
thinking about
the garden sparrow




Govind Joshi 


fast food counter
the clikety clack
of the chopping board




first rain
releasing
the scent of earth


setting sun 
on the lake front
an empty nest




Giuliana Ravaglia


nessuna nube oscurerà i tuoi occhi
vele feconde di vagabonde follie
eternamente espresse
morderai le piene dell'autunno
baciando controvento rivoli chiari
e sarai l'estate



no cloud will darken your eyes
fruitful sails of vagabond follies
eternally expressed
you will bite the floods of autumn
kissing upwind clear streams
you will be the summer




s'incammina il silenzio
nella penombra della sera
quell'impensato attimo
mare senz'acqua del mio errare
 
silence sets in
in the twilight of the evening
that unexpected moment
waterless sea of ​​my wandering




quando l'anima trema
e il buio cigola nel profondo
riaffilo antichi artigli
in un gomitolo di sole

 
when the soul trembles
and the darkness creaks in the depths
I sharpen ancient claws
in a ball of sunshine
 




Xenia Tran


building a nest -
house martins remember
the rules of sand


summer heads south
earlier and earlier
on the swallow's tail


across the sandflats
from invisible clouds ...
light rain






Suzanne Leaf-Brock

deep in thought
a pause from the crickets
when i hear them


barn owl back
in its roost
greenlighting the sunrise


the oak grove shade
elongated late afternoon
my peacefulness




John Grey


last night
said our goodbyes
tonight
the soughing wind
repeats then

soft pull of oars
slow glide of boat
I am a lake
water ripples over
sunlight skims across


 I go to the door
and it’s
another salesman:
the last to know
that I have all I need




Ron Scully

part time waiter
full time philosophy student
our orders mixed up


the ocean slurs ashore
at sunrise
smells of the other woman


Medieval ocean's
dungeon breath
time to confess




Eva Joan 

thunderstorm - 
no word falls  
between us 



the moon floats slowly 
from east to west -
night of father’s death 



without you -     
like breathing 
in a vacuum 





Jackie Chou, Kathabela Wilson & Sigrid Saradunn




Overtones


circular patterns
on the mahjong tiles
new age spot             JC


'round and 'round the sound
of the singing bowl        KW


labyrinth
finding meaning
in sacred stones           SS


crystal geode
used as a paperweight      JC


sandalwood incense 
she opens the window
to the moon                 KW


mingling molecules
we grow old together    SS






Kathabela Wilson  & Jackie Chou



Perfect Match 


mom and dad
sectioning the grapefruit
two different ways    KW


spoon imprint in the butter
my fear of holes     JC


Alice in Wonderland
she dreams 
she is a rabbit    KW


chomping away
the hare makes the carrot
look so sumptuous     JC


mother's orange lipstick 
a kiss on the napkin    KW


watching the pumpkin
turn into a carriage
wrong fairytale     JC






Jackie Chou, Kathabela Wilson & Sigrid Saradunn




Good Luck


i follow
his furry footprints
in my slippers            KW


rabbit rabbit
looking for good luck     SS


the path ahead
led by a trail
of white feathers          JC


her secret wish
on a dandelion clock        KW


falling stars
the night collecting
fireflies                  SS


blinking cursor
i drift into another life       JC






Maryam Mermey

delphinium buds

baby fists
into the future


a cradle of music
Marsalis sways
the musicians


cat spirals into the air
paw reaching
and misses






Simon De Courcey


water boatmen
at the wellspring -
calm crossings


arctic terns
shrinking sandbar -
September days


marram braids
the last campfire -
northerly gust






Gerard Sarnat


I have arrived.  I am home
In the here, in the now
I am solid, I am free
In the ultimate I dwell.
--RIP Thich Nhat Hanh, 1926-2022


gerontocracy's
veil of suffering -- glue yourself
to love, compassion






Diane Funston

Love’s “Baby Soft” 
cologne In a pink bottle
innocence
is sexy—a different message
in todays troubled world


velvet trumpet petunias
sweet nectar
between childhood lips


I wait on the stairs
listening to adults
childhood shame






Noel King


for the last time
Turtle Doves
watch me
lock my front door


her clogs
on the stairs
wood on wood
stumbles


Early Start
 
I shower at six
but find other things to do
in my space to write.






Steve Wilkinson


REMINISCENCE


Whispers of history on ancient walls,
Echoes of triumphs and haunting calls.
Time's tapestry

Laughter shared with family so dear,
Moments cherished, year by year.
In bonds of love

Moonlight's touch on tranquil seas,
Dreams of hope carried on the breeze.
A night embrace

We reminisce of days gone by
at times with tears in our eyes
and grateful hearts





Two Quadrums


smooth white pebbles
beneath my feet,
the ocean’s song;
restorative


the slow movement
of the clock’s hands-
for a moment
I find myself


petro c. k.

red light district
empty wallet
on the sidewalk


cold moon
in the kitchen
open fridge


calling
a long-lost friend
apple blossoms

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