The Bamboo Hut October 2025 Ju Roku Issue
Ju Roku is an invented form that I developed a few years ago. It is a succinct form limited to 16 syllables or less with no restriction on subject matter or line length. The only restriction is the limited number of syllables. It can reflect the characteristics of haiku, senryu, tanka, ryuka, doditsu or aphorism.
Robert Witmer
forgotten tomorrows
our horoscopes
in the cat box
contrails
a fading absence
in the summer sky
a cuckoo
locked in a faceless clock
cries of the poor
wildflowers
wither in a vase
her old straw hat
a long descent
the trail widening
into a churchyard
Randy Brooks
breaking the ice
a neighbor snow blows
our long driveway
abandoned homestead
the next generation
of cherry trees
calling my name
this time mother adds
a middle initial
cherry blossoms falling
into the koi pond
her pinky promise
Ravi Kiran
autumn breeze
the same destination
of falling leaves
shrine pond
maple leaves
and coins
clearing skies
the busyness
of a wet spider
softening a rock
and the hard place
a wildflower
seaward walk
when did soil
become sand
Mona Iordan
anxious
to reach the horizon
the clouds in my dream
last leaves to leave or not to yet
longer nights the sapped tree falls asleep
herbarium
all my maple leaves
brittle in the end
Dennis Owen Frohlich
mother-in-law’s meddling
a cloud over lunch
summer son
mango ice pop
black diamond bird
not knowing the names of things
my little girl’s questions
salamander mating ball on TV
day-old cotton candy
balled up tissue in my pocket
Oscar Luparia
HANDS
rusty gate...
the age spots
on my hands
anniversary…
the day I found home
in your hand
palm lines
collecting a soap bubble
into my hands
high five!
a handful of syllables
for my new haiku
Joshua St. Claire.
two unidentifiable birds,
spruces in the rain
cloud wisps,
we just can’t stop
city maple,
her 15 minutes
storm-colored mountain,
what lies beyond?
in the windowless room,
the end of the time
Bryan Rickert
New Year’s morning
nothing but crows
teetering on spring
this cardinal’s song
every now and then
the road ragged mist
barren landscape
this journey through loss
even in flight
the heron’s silence
Marilyn Humbert
his words, a storm
carried by the wind’s snarl
befuddling fog,
hungover
still pond,
the silence
of edge reeds
through the lens,
refocusing the landscape
early thaw,
the premature birth
of green shoots
Eva Joan
clear cold night
one lonely owl calls for company
bare-branched trees
waiting for spring like me
blind flight in dense fog
courageous seagulls
power blackout
sparkling dancers in night skies
hasty steps in the mist
a faceless man
Mark Gilbert
on the level
cylinders of straw
have come to rest
swallows & housemartins
spitfires & hurricanes
under a ginkgo
thinking
in
ink
creaking windmill
stones & scones
she
her troubles
so different to mine
John Grey
mountains
stony and still
the breathless hush
of the dead
almond trees
breathe ocean air
sharp and salted
with dead sailors
fresh water spurts
from stone
clear and clean
no need for instructions
myrtle grows wild
flowers spun like spiders
weaving snow in sun.
olive tree reigns
bent with age
centuries
of twisted wisdom
Thomas Smith
fireside tea our sparks drift upward
and disappear
first light strikes the snow
sparkling across sharp ridges
surgery waiting room an ice cave of emotions
woodland path I hear
deer and moccasins
arroyo’s breath the cottonwoods moving
Pegah Rahmati Nezhad
always ravished by
colorful moss roses
my inner child
jackdaw changes eye color
i
my viewpoint
autumn stroll
by the river
i feel co(l)d
trying to grab
the faucet stream
her tiny chameleon
an odyssey in my hand sea bean
Michael Henry Lee
knuckle ball
both benches empty
autumn deepens
the birdbath overflows with leaves
shaken not stirred
camellia blossoms
bottom of the ninth
one out away from
retirement
high surf advisory
the beach side cafe
posts a help wanted sign
Roberta Beach Jacobson
urging
baby turtles toward the sea,
human hands
his pink nose,
snow leopard
saving my wish,
day moon
summertime,
more hours to listen
to birdsong
no longer
holding us hostage,
winter chill
Tuyet Van Do
heavy rain
the stream sings again
laying cackles
empty shell in the nest
morning sun,
my cheeks blushing
wind chimes tinkles
acacia globes on my hair
unfurled petals
on display
your secrets
Govind Joshi
waking up
the dawn sprinkled
on the plum tree
every now and then
on our evening walk
monsoon drizzle
grounding
the barefoot walk
on the yard path
advanced
wellness routine
advancing age
Joanna Ashwell
field guide
a tangle of wildflowers
a gaggle of geese
finding my tribe
snow stars
melting in love
ticket for one
dandelion burr
moon water
stealing a wish
Ron Scully
wanton shaped cloud
fortune cookie with no tale to tell
wrist watch with no hands
so far I have run out of time
dark cloud rubs against the moon
the cat we never named
the river outruns the present tense
its photo fished out
phalanx of crows on the front lawn
Sicilian Défense
dan smith
politics of squares sharp edges
government shutdown even anarchists cry foul
chopping down the tree he cannot not tell a lie
battle cry Fela Kuti's Zombie
Chen-ou Liu
a spiral of apple peel
(this longing)
snail track
the meander of thoughts
on life
cicadas drone ...
the snap, snap, snapping
of bean pods
river's edge ...
drowning the self
in myself
a rope bridge
sways in the winter wind ...
this life on the go
Ram Chandran
old bridge...
only some of those
crossed the bridge
crossed the river
cuckoo's song...
between the pauses
wind sings
night jasmine -
each bud
a glowing moon
path full of trees full of flowers
full of petals full of moonshine
Diane Webster
aspen leaves
descend over forest floor
footsteps of deer
boat dips
outriggers into water...
water skipper glides
bronze ferns
beneath evergreen needles
frost drips
cigarette butt
crushed on the sidewalk
detour of ants
seagulls swarm
the anchored boat
fish net shadows
Oana Maria Cercel
the simmering no one sees coming dahlias
longing for him
the opened book
unread
looming in the window
shattered stars
the seedlings wilted
missing him
quiet sea
sailing in the azure
the rainbow kite
Adrian Bouter
foggy morning
the softened headlines
complicated clouds
doubting the road I'm on
vase of asters
a darker tone in the wine
doctor's office
this unexpected rain
thin ice
a duck makes it to the other side
Roger Funston
sunset water hole
dragonflies hit water
expanding ripple
fog obscures darkness
chilly blanket dampness
ice crunch on road
Timothy Daly
life is constantly reinvented
we humans don't see this
early sunset
my ill widowed aunt
puts down her cross
conditioned by my past,
seeing everything through a dirty lens
beyond a screen
that's where life is
if you could really see the miracle
would you live like this?
Fatma Zohra Habis
Autumn leaves,
my withered feelings.
Halfway there--
the hard return.
Without wings,
the stolen sky.
Heavy snowfall--
the weight of departure.
A heart lacking
the sense of gratitude.
Mark Valentine
dandelions
gold turns
to gossamer
in the sky
squeaking bicycles
the geese have arrived
overthinking
peeling quince
yeeeouch
finger nicked
paired swans’
quick watery snorts
quaffing winter snacks
cold sea-spray
brailles my face
fingertips read winter
Eric Sundquist
if my bones were hollow quill pen
ecolypse
the war of crow
against all
on a war footing
bone spurs
empty sack donut holes
kite
cloud
g
n
i
r
t
s
mind
maryam mermey
crickets chorus the dark
a shooting star
the touch of a pink orchid
the torn place
in the bird bath
shape shifter leaves
osprey fly the autumn hills
a lullaby
side saddle
brown leaf on the turtle’s back
Geethanjali Rajan
spring in the air
the footprints we leave
on wet river sand
bent over
in ankle-deep water . . .
a rice-planting song
no end to star(v)ing
harvest supermoon
swimming upstream
bubbles become fish
all the ego
I can do without
blue sky
Alessia Russo
once my enemy,
I now sit with silence.
embracing words and memories,
my mind navigates
forgetting.
Robert Beveridge
high winds
the eagles’ nest stands firm
while the tree shakes
C.X. Turner
moss softens
where we argued
first sloes
your voice in ditchlight
unsent letters
gathering dust with the bluebells
autumn rain
I drive past your street
acorns fall
I keep my hands still
Richard West.
a lake of tears
weeping willow reflections
his water diet
only dewdrops on the web
rain falling on the pond
a silent cacophony of circles
cold night
the wind chimes in a minor key
night in the mountains
the wind speaking a high language
Joanne van Helvoort
dead end street
my feet keep repeating
the echo
high in the trees
a nervous rustle –
thunder clouds
the city darkens
lights turn on
lights turn off
end of summer
the sudden burst
of snap weed seeds
Joy McCall
a stormy night,
the scent of frankincense and myrrh
brings peace and sleep
sleepless,
my spirit lifts when I hear the owl
calling in the night
I like the common people
better than robed priests and proud rulers
when I cannot sleep at night
poems come to keep me company
when I wake from sleep
grief rises and tears flow
like rapid rivers
Steve Wilkinson
Landscape painting
the tree by the river
is no more
Cathedral reflections
the bells echo
across the river
throwing stones into the river
the past always remains the past
Another autumn has arrived
one year older
one year weaker
the road not taken
where would it have led me?
forgotten tomorrows
our horoscopes
in the cat box
contrails
a fading absence
in the summer sky
a cuckoo
locked in a faceless clock
cries of the poor
wildflowers
wither in a vase
her old straw hat
a long descent
the trail widening
into a churchyard
Randy Brooks
breaking the ice
a neighbor snow blows
our long driveway
abandoned homestead
the next generation
of cherry trees
calling my name
this time mother adds
a middle initial
cherry blossoms falling
into the koi pond
her pinky promise
Ravi Kiran
autumn breeze
the same destination
of falling leaves
shrine pond
maple leaves
and coins
clearing skies
the busyness
of a wet spider
softening a rock
and the hard place
a wildflower
seaward walk
when did soil
become sand
Mona Iordan
anxious
to reach the horizon
the clouds in my dream
last leaves to leave or not to yet
longer nights the sapped tree falls asleep
herbarium
all my maple leaves
brittle in the end
Dennis Owen Frohlich
mother-in-law’s meddling
a cloud over lunch
summer son
mango ice pop
black diamond bird
not knowing the names of things
my little girl’s questions
salamander mating ball on TV
day-old cotton candy
balled up tissue in my pocket
Oscar Luparia
HANDS
rusty gate...
the age spots
on my hands
anniversary…
the day I found home
in your hand
palm lines
collecting a soap bubble
into my hands
high five!
a handful of syllables
for my new haiku
Joshua St. Claire.
two unidentifiable birds,
spruces in the rain
cloud wisps,
we just can’t stop
city maple,
her 15 minutes
storm-colored mountain,
what lies beyond?
in the windowless room,
the end of the time
Bryan Rickert
New Year’s morning
nothing but crows
teetering on spring
this cardinal’s song
every now and then
the road ragged mist
barren landscape
this journey through loss
even in flight
the heron’s silence
Marilyn Humbert
his words, a storm
carried by the wind’s snarl
befuddling fog,
hungover
still pond,
the silence
of edge reeds
through the lens,
refocusing the landscape
early thaw,
the premature birth
of green shoots
Eva Joan
clear cold night
one lonely owl calls for company
bare-branched trees
waiting for spring like me
blind flight in dense fog
courageous seagulls
power blackout
sparkling dancers in night skies
hasty steps in the mist
a faceless man
Mark Gilbert
on the level
cylinders of straw
have come to rest
swallows & housemartins
spitfires & hurricanes
under a ginkgo
thinking
in
ink
creaking windmill
stones & scones
she
her troubles
so different to mine
John Grey
mountains
stony and still
the breathless hush
of the dead
almond trees
breathe ocean air
sharp and salted
with dead sailors
fresh water spurts
from stone
clear and clean
no need for instructions
myrtle grows wild
flowers spun like spiders
weaving snow in sun.
olive tree reigns
bent with age
centuries
of twisted wisdom
Thomas Smith
fireside tea our sparks drift upward
and disappear
first light strikes the snow
sparkling across sharp ridges
surgery waiting room an ice cave of emotions
woodland path I hear
deer and moccasins
arroyo’s breath the cottonwoods moving
Pegah Rahmati Nezhad
always ravished by
colorful moss roses
my inner child
jackdaw changes eye color
i
my viewpoint
autumn stroll
by the river
i feel co(l)d
trying to grab
the faucet stream
her tiny chameleon
an odyssey in my hand sea bean
Michael Henry Lee
knuckle ball
both benches empty
autumn deepens
the birdbath overflows with leaves
shaken not stirred
camellia blossoms
bottom of the ninth
one out away from
retirement
high surf advisory
the beach side cafe
posts a help wanted sign
Roberta Beach Jacobson
urging
baby turtles toward the sea,
human hands
his pink nose,
snow leopard
saving my wish,
day moon
summertime,
more hours to listen
to birdsong
no longer
holding us hostage,
winter chill
Tuyet Van Do
heavy rain
the stream sings again
laying cackles
empty shell in the nest
morning sun,
my cheeks blushing
wind chimes tinkles
acacia globes on my hair
unfurled petals
on display
your secrets
Govind Joshi
waking up
the dawn sprinkled
on the plum tree
every now and then
on our evening walk
monsoon drizzle
grounding
the barefoot walk
on the yard path
advanced
wellness routine
advancing age
Joanna Ashwell
field guide
a tangle of wildflowers
a gaggle of geese
finding my tribe
snow stars
melting in love
ticket for one
dandelion burr
moon water
stealing a wish
Ron Scully
wanton shaped cloud
fortune cookie with no tale to tell
wrist watch with no hands
so far I have run out of time
dark cloud rubs against the moon
the cat we never named
the river outruns the present tense
its photo fished out
phalanx of crows on the front lawn
Sicilian Défense
dan smith
politics of squares sharp edges
government shutdown even anarchists cry foul
chopping down the tree he cannot not tell a lie
battle cry Fela Kuti's Zombie
Chen-ou Liu
a spiral of apple peel
(this longing)
snail track
the meander of thoughts
on life
cicadas drone ...
the snap, snap, snapping
of bean pods
river's edge ...
drowning the self
in myself
a rope bridge
sways in the winter wind ...
this life on the go
Ram Chandran
old bridge...
only some of those
crossed the bridge
crossed the river
cuckoo's song...
between the pauses
wind sings
night jasmine -
each bud
a glowing moon
path full of trees full of flowers
full of petals full of moonshine
Diane Webster
aspen leaves
descend over forest floor
footsteps of deer
boat dips
outriggers into water...
water skipper glides
bronze ferns
beneath evergreen needles
frost drips
cigarette butt
crushed on the sidewalk
detour of ants
seagulls swarm
the anchored boat
fish net shadows
Oana Maria Cercel
the simmering no one sees coming dahlias
longing for him
the opened book
unread
looming in the window
shattered stars
the seedlings wilted
missing him
quiet sea
sailing in the azure
the rainbow kite
Adrian Bouter
foggy morning
the softened headlines
complicated clouds
doubting the road I'm on
vase of asters
a darker tone in the wine
doctor's office
this unexpected rain
thin ice
a duck makes it to the other side
Roger Funston
sunset water hole
dragonflies hit water
expanding ripple
fog obscures darkness
chilly blanket dampness
ice crunch on road
Timothy Daly
life is constantly reinvented
we humans don't see this
early sunset
my ill widowed aunt
puts down her cross
conditioned by my past,
seeing everything through a dirty lens
beyond a screen
that's where life is
if you could really see the miracle
would you live like this?
Fatma Zohra Habis
Autumn leaves,
my withered feelings.
Halfway there--
the hard return.
Without wings,
the stolen sky.
Heavy snowfall--
the weight of departure.
A heart lacking
the sense of gratitude.
Mark Valentine
dandelions
gold turns
to gossamer
in the sky
squeaking bicycles
the geese have arrived
overthinking
peeling quince
yeeeouch
finger nicked
paired swans’
quick watery snorts
quaffing winter snacks
cold sea-spray
brailles my face
fingertips read winter
Eric Sundquist
if my bones were hollow quill pen
ecolypse
the war of crow
against all
on a war footing
bone spurs
empty sack donut holes
kite
cloud
g
n
i
r
t
s
mind
maryam mermey
crickets chorus the dark
a shooting star
the touch of a pink orchid
the torn place
in the bird bath
shape shifter leaves
osprey fly the autumn hills
a lullaby
side saddle
brown leaf on the turtle’s back
Geethanjali Rajan
spring in the air
the footprints we leave
on wet river sand
bent over
in ankle-deep water . . .
a rice-planting song
no end to star(v)ing
harvest supermoon
swimming upstream
bubbles become fish
all the ego
I can do without
blue sky
Alessia Russo
once my enemy,
I now sit with silence.
embracing words and memories,
my mind navigates
forgetting.
Robert Beveridge
high winds
the eagles’ nest stands firm
while the tree shakes
C.X. Turner
moss softens
where we argued
first sloes
your voice in ditchlight
unsent letters
gathering dust with the bluebells
autumn rain
I drive past your street
acorns fall
I keep my hands still
Richard West.
a lake of tears
weeping willow reflections
his water diet
only dewdrops on the web
rain falling on the pond
a silent cacophony of circles
cold night
the wind chimes in a minor key
night in the mountains
the wind speaking a high language
Joanne van Helvoort
dead end street
my feet keep repeating
the echo
high in the trees
a nervous rustle –
thunder clouds
the city darkens
lights turn on
lights turn off
end of summer
the sudden burst
of snap weed seeds
Joy McCall
a stormy night,
the scent of frankincense and myrrh
brings peace and sleep
sleepless,
my spirit lifts when I hear the owl
calling in the night
I like the common people
better than robed priests and proud rulers
when I cannot sleep at night
poems come to keep me company
when I wake from sleep
grief rises and tears flow
like rapid rivers
Steve Wilkinson
Landscape painting
the tree by the river
is no more
Cathedral reflections
the bells echo
across the river
throwing stones into the river
the past always remains the past
Another autumn has arrived
one year older
one year weaker
the road not taken
where would it have led me?
Ju Roku Art
