The Bamboo Hut Spring 2019
The Bamboo Hut journal of English language tanshi edited by Steve Wilkinson Spring 2019
Published by The Bamboo Hut © The Bamboo Hut 2019
Rachel Sutcliffe long after the scent of lilacs cemetery rain deep winter shades of snow on my palette bitter winds rattling at the door your absence cobbled path new shadows on old stones
Joan Leotta Brown sparrows play on telephone lines their small chirps welcome day; as sun ignites the marsh grass below, light's blaze reveals gray heron at the hunt. A spray of needled branches splays out from pine treetops green sparks-a forest of stars set against blue winter sky
Anna Maris wondering why he is in my garden the magpie and I
autumn rain in the familiar painting a new detail
black ice road the lingering dawn lights a way forward
Michael H Lester soaring high into the light of the New Year a seagull with a beak full of crumbs delights in the rising sun looking back I realize I never saw dear old grandma when she wasn't in the kitchen wearing an apron and a smile nothing left of this lonely Christmas in the cottage but a few pine needles scattered by the fireplace shivering under a blanket of hoarfrost the rosebud opens its crimson petals and leans toward the sun
Joy McCall song of the broken branch I am singing songs of the falling leaves listen, sad woman, listen let your fingers feel the scars where the bough broke and the branch fell all things carry scars like ours, without them, we cannot sing look at me, my bark is stripped my sap bled into the earth and yet I am smooth and lovely I need you to hold me carry me with you, sad woman I will be your company strong as iron, smooth as silk your hand will be my home
Michael Morell undertow— we make plans for a second date slack in the rope waiting for the right moment to meditate may my life be as simple as a backyard full of birds and a cup of chai though I know it won’t. overcast skies the weight of worry on my mind coffeehouse a blues riff carries my thoughts to an ex lover’s bed
Lavana Kray & Karen O’Leary our boats so close to each other-a cruise line the kite string snaps as our vacation ends quaking aspen-street children left without coats in whirling leaves first snowflakes Karen O’Leary
hoarder’s freedom—a tiny house
narrow inlet two sumo wrestlers vie for rite of passage sharing toys my son’s sandcastle turns into a city
George Schaefer
DIVALI Divali street parade roti and rum steel drums wrestle table light shining on us all
eternal buzzing the lullaby of crickets singing in the night
carnage like Beirut sunrise is still far away-a desolate walk.
Editors note : Divali is an example of an unrhymed fiverse, a form devised by Bangladeshian poet Md. Ziaul Haque
Marilyn Humbert & Richard Kakol Circle of Light candle light casts long shadows on the wall yesterday, summer brightened our faces
voices chanting in unison beyond the temple gates an unexplored world
staring into the log fire you remember the child lost ...your heart's Siberia
in the circle of lamp light I ponder this koan... slow lightning after years of study
a jigsaw of coloured glass on the table I melt the solder to bind pieces together your cheeks tinted by sunlight streaming through stained windows of the basilica —a lurid mask of grief
Mary Ellen Gambutti
Bad Mountain Weather fog of voices cool, white bed "how do you feel? you're lucky...delayed ambulance...helicopter... bad mountain weather" summer of bad weather after survival, then? just be. lost feeling, lost worth, lost choice-all I have, this place of respite through long, lost, weakened weeks I work my troubled brain and body summer of no birds, no gardens will sky and mind clear? when sunlight does sparkle red and yellow and slants of daylight breach my haven’s notches I speak, walk, find strength and drink from a chilly stream of courage
Marilyn Humbert Central Victorian Summer my rockery white daisies thrive in dry heat our paddocks remain cracked and barren the line of darkening clouds thickens – flocks descend our wheat crop razed this evening in my summer garden I enjoy buskers playing a cicada serenade crossing darkening skies white cockatoos wings thrumming crests yellow flames in the stillness after a storm passes we survey litter left behind a patch of blue sky
Dianne Moritz Mother’s ashes stored in sister’s closet waiting for release to hear her voice one last time I pick up the phone cold, gray day a lone gardenia brightens the winter bush a cold draft seeps through the cracks scent of pine out my window cardinal feeds seeds to his mate love birds
M.J.Iuppa The End in Sight To see clearer, I find a pinhole to peer through: my pupil dilates in an eye’s disorder—rivers racing to a fiery blue sea.
These woods, soaked by a day’s worth of rain, stand mute in the split-second of daybreak.
slow-moving fog climbs the mountain one deep breath
Rashmi Vesa
I lived when I let my sorrows die in the blackhole of time
a flyaway stone splashes new ripples the pond palette my rearranged reflection shivers in unknown winds
carrying a piece of me to the other world... my father's coffin his last smile buried in our sorrows
John McManus her goodbye letter my cat darts along the piano’s keys unfamiliar trees an owl screeches at the moon the waterfall’s roar a stranger smiles at the koi in my sketchbook
Ed Bremson left-handed in the mirror backward smile
out shopping... a mother rearranges the playground
I stand on my front porch for five minutes and come inside... mosquito bite on my arm
Ben Moeller-Gaa twilight one-by-one dark thoughts appear
through the cafe window the push and pull of evening traffic
haze of rain the shapes of men sandbagging
Bryan Rickert the beautiful way you hurt me snapdragons going it alone roadside daisies bugs strike the windshield Perseids night solstice celebration our breath makes an appearance cooling in the stream the camper’s feet and melons
Bill Pauly & Julie Warther to be with you I would gladly embrace the ice where you live knitting a scarf long enough for two
in my dotage still I hope to flutter a heart or two a flower trail in the monarch’s wake
arroyos bringing the mountain waters down for those times you cannot come to me
Bob Carlton writing haiku out of season spring's dream
two by two by thousands dancing butterflies
there, not there not there--there: firefly
Kate Alsbury solemn darkness... a lonely cricket guides me home purple stained fingers taking the long way home blackberry pickers town clock silent in darkest forest an owl sounds midnight first sky— forgetting resolutions in mulled saki
The Sea Ebon reconnoiter in the nebulous of Odin’s eye hackles of blue-black strike from the raven who haunts my dreams
Jennifer Davis Where they belong The women’s movement wants to abolish the word manhole— isn’t that where men belong, in a hole?
Definitions You Won’t Find in the Dictionary Toilet A household shrine for men. Couch Remote control cemetery. Pennies Coins to rattle in your pocket to sound rich.
Keith Nunes The geography of phonology The language being spoken Wordless Shoes/clothes/facial activity Suggest mid-ish winter And some place where taxation is a minor inconvenience Easily avoided Failings Dragging my failings A slice off there and one fallen behind An addition here This one shines in the sunlight as though it will lead the rest on A sassy imperious failing That’s unlikely to fail Think I’m alone now Today I like the idea of not being seen Not being acknowledged Not participating That I am only And only is at peace
Ruben James A Happening It’s infinitely preferable to believe a person who says something happened rather than the person who says nothing happened His Red Wheelbarrow So much depends upon William Carlos Williams pushing his red wheelbarrow glazed by acid rain beside his terrified chickens Mistaken He made the mistake twice, you know, after that he made it so often it ceased being a mistake
Anna Cates a barred owl flirts with a birder wet woods in spring essence concupiscence hollow moon hanging on till tomorrow it will come then go before today ends first raindrops soak into parched loam where woods wax wild seeds sink so softly into a thirsty soul
Pasquale Asprea Snow on the sea with them, I forget the words
Fog in the old village a game of pinball
Potato flower's a deep breath in the rain
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz fallen petal another soul lost to drugs like Satie how the dusk turns red to violet night music the gentle thrum of solitude ochre dawn I bathe my ears in ragas happy surprise the blue jay’s call between snowflakes
Rika Inami petals vibrating with fragrance in air … Christmas Cactus plays the chord of eternity at holy night I don’t stick to most things because they will flow away … the dark of my missing part dense mist … being worn away my spirit fading away into the bottomless void my happiness … I go on living accompanying you even though you already left this world as if all returned to the void snow falls silently … heaven and earth joining mutually and becoming all in white
Chen-ou Liu pink-haired girl riding her surfboard sea to sky clicks of sleet until nothing's left to say ... peace talks I dive alone into the rippling sky ... end of summer ragged clouds the life on the street he left behind a few shared glances by the motel ice machine ... this sultry night skin-to-skin and breath-by-breath filling a hole in our world
Hifsa Ashraf in the dust of war rubble I inhale the deep pain of my ancestors wildflowers on her grave this monsoon I see the colours of her deepest pain camouflaging the eastern horizon grey smoke the day we surrender to our fate
family photo with her lost child under the oak where they once played hide and seek
Pat Geyer string of yarn ties up my reflection ~ cockeyed, i look at life through a broken mirror green bamboo blinds cool down the room... a door closes unpredictable this force of space and time... changing unsettled impossible to find living outside myself
Maureen Sudlow DREAM SEQUENCE outside the wind rushes the hills plays music into my dreams harsh call of a night bird hunting moon shadows shape-changing on my windows above the clouds sighing of stars falling into forgotten places
Natalia L Rudychev autumn leaves melting sunset temple bells ring kneeling veins on a wrist run close to the surface butterflies touching flowers unruly feather on a sparrow 's chest is hit by sunbeam the rainbow of your presence in my heartbeat
Eva Joan at the seashore time seeps away ... i look at water-smoothed stones listening to his low voice singing „blue ain’t your color“ your skin underneath my fingertips ... if i ever could touch you i would feel my future among all these hollow meaningless words there is only one that is aflame YOU YOU ... are my favorite sin
Ruth Asch I gaze upon a radiant bank of clouds - and all my bitterness, the pith which has been pierced, burns like fruit in the smouldering glow 'till sparks and incense rise.
Tree to lawn, leaf lilts down an unseen stairway; Bird wafts through clear absence, to safe twig. Feet firm on earth and concrete, I am falling.
Sun's last ray flushes Across the tender skyline Like a parting kiss.
Tomoko Nakata stone- paved road through a wooden gate winter sunlight soft sunlight have a doze on a leaf winter butterfly wintry grove in the blue sky flowing clouds
Corey D. Cook he crouches behind table’s tapered leg first game of hide & seek screech of brakes clouds pile up sky succumbs to crimson
Keely Record Saved from rust and waste claw-footed bathtubs where daisies grow water-features sound water lilies pond
Ominous presence porch guardian Lions lay roar-mouthed one paw raised perpetually poised
Nancy Liddle my world torn in half heavens mirrored in the lake reflections of light so easily disrupted by an unhappy gesture
Ashoka Weerakkody migratory bird captured in artist's canvas detention seasons never changed her love of tyres calendar girl paper umbrella just good for summer strolling disposable rain
Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo The dark nears I look out of the window for signs of shadow Wind blade this silence of yours shatters stars wild marigold for each petal a kiss the thin line between now and then And once more on the green lawn among thousand flowers the willow ‘ s weeping your absence In this evening a white sheet waits for my words no more able to tell you which sound has the morning
Maria Chiara Miduri walking on the pier my feet stop upon a wind rose I discover my direction the sun goes down a fisherman wears his yellow coat night lights up swimming lesson daddy teaches his child what is life first steps on the seashore a child knows the way snow water steps change states
Cassandra Eubanks Talk talk talk I can hear them thinking ‘She talks too much’ Who the hell can shut up With all this going on
Djurdja Vukelic Rozic night express passing by from window to window the cold moon January 2nd erasing tough goals from resolution list upon return a bird in a bush singing some southern chords
Pawel Markiewicz early spring outside one orchid on windowsill of violet color my dreamy soul is shining in purple romantic glow
the last winter time the orchid has blossomed in my room at night does my soul blossom within daydreaming-time of miracle?
starlit night outside violet orchid in my room like a springtide-sign philosophical signs fulfilled in winter star
Richard Kakol & Lorraine Lee DISTANCES metallic taste in my mouth that last party drink -flying on a fairy-floss cloud on the Ferris wheel in separate gondolas you and I in orbit around one another this distance between us a chasm far too wide for a leap of faith the church where I was baptized burns down... the ashes blow away along with my beliefs pink petals against aqua floating... this final goodbye peaceful
Debbie Strange grief rides my back like a cowboy on a rank horse spurs dug deep into the flanks of memory
a lodestar glistens above our bow we follow the light into breaking dawn
the blue hour . . . you slipped away without a sound morning chill two ladybirds trimmed with pearls
fog settles eventually all things become nothing
Bruce England Sometimes my wind chime just makes noise Let’s just say, older now, I’m wary of mucking around in the life of anyone, especially women It all begins well, the sighting of dinosaurs, as Ian says in The Lost World, the oohs and aahs, and thoughts of money, then panic the running, screaming, chomping
Jill Rauh lachrymatory expecting only dried tears she unstopped the bottle releasing fireworks and stars into the dark night heat lightning warming the stars I tell myself you’re up there somewhere the heart could break only so small or so I thought shards slivering into subatomic dust I scratch your words into my skin they itch and peel reminding me of you and better than nothing
Eileen F Connelly daffodil trumpets bend and blow in the wind musicians giddy with springtime fever forecast an early summer snowdrops hidden in fresh dew-drenched grass like innocent children sheltered by family to develop and flourish waterfalls splash over blackened cliff edges like reckless riders all caution abandoned in desperate dash for home moonbeams shine bright over Cnoc a’ tSà tonight the sheep find shelter by megalithic chamber where ancient shepherds sleep a solitary dog howls in the midnight air an old man stumbles and fumbles with his keys his dog wags him welcome home
David He Zhuanglang the statue shadow crossing the window I find Dad's face moon lingers in the bar window drunk boss cicada's cry a firefly twinkles on my window sinking sun... dying Grandpa widens his eyes her happy face... a rose petal uncurls in the sunlight
Steve Wilkinson the slow movement of the clock's handfor a moment I find myself joyless day; the rain falls in my heart Counting the waves I stand alone on the shoreline doubting myself In between breaths someone somewhere dies I stare at the fire watching the flames flare and fall Empty words from false leaders on the hill the hefted flock graze in ignorance