Sparkles in the night
      burning chrysanthemums
      sink into the water.

        The Holly Virgin listening
        to  the prayer of a child.

              It's snowing again...
              the white chrysanthemums
              grow bigger and bigger...

        Botany class -
        putting buds and young leaves
        in an old herbarium.

              Frost patterns at the door -
              to breath again the snowman...

                  A single colour everywhere -
           The north wind scattering old flowers
                  over the new snowdrifts.

unconcerned
for me -
caged monkey

nothing implied -
the blue of the sky deepens

in our refilled cups
the scent of the sea -
mixed company

mountain peak
absolved
by low clouds

Broken
shells beneath my
bare feet, shards of time worn
sea glass play in the waves of my
childhood.

Childhood
disappearing
before a mother’s eyes –
a sand castle missing turrets,
high tide.

High tide
fills the night cove,
climbs the beach, whispering.
Each new wave dances – quicksilver
moonlight!

Moonlight
shatters the dark
quiet, a fluttering
restlessness awakened born to
take flight.

Take flight
obscuring clouds –
emerge bright midnight moon
smiling full faced nocturnal orb?
ghost light.

ghost light
someone's lantern
glows without hands to hold
it steady – the crickets have stopped
chirping.

Chirping
too cheerily,
a robin sings at dawn.
I slowly throw back curtains, see
blue eggs.

Blue eggs:
dye sloshes out
from red plastic cups and
she giggles, tiny hands bathed in
rainbows.

Rainbows
in her wide eyes.
For the first time, she sees
a boy who makes her heart whisper
of love.

Of love
lost and found, she
wrote, of missed glances and
moonlit dances, yellowed by time
and death.

And death,
of course, my dear.
Let us not forget that
grave-breath guest who always arrives
unasked.

Unasked
the question that
was all that mattered most –
indoors the nattering of the
tv.

55. TJL

TV
fills the vacuum,
white noise a veil masking
a strange face – I only asked you 
her name.

Her name,
the one etched in
stone, in the scars hidden
so well in plain sight, in late night
whispers.

Whispers
of old thunder
on the far horizon  –
Traces of my sins are there in
your eyes.

Your eyes,
jade butterflies
sailing a warm south wind  –
to what dreamland would they carry
my heart.

my heart
has known winters
long before summerflies
lit my way home  – blue blossoms in
white hair

buried
five cold years
but never gone
our bedroom's fragrant with
her scent

her scent -
summer rain
on red clay roads;
at the end of her world,
rainbows

rainbow
suspenders,
sneakers too large
my clown's coat keeps me dry,
almost

...almost
was happy,
nearly found bliss -
you came and stole away
my heart

My heart
stopped today,
I heard you call -
my bed empty for far
too long.

too long
without you
season of grief
a time of storms - my tears
unheard

unheard
prayers hang low
in blackened skies -
red dirt scatters on pale
white pine

White pine
boxes lie
in perfect rows
not forgotten, lovers,
fathers.

Father’s
Day, empty
house, no laughter -
oak leaves tumble, Heaven
to Earth.

To earth
now returned,
from sight escaped,
but in our hearts you shall
remain.

Remain
true, a love
gone still seems there -
reclining in your chair,
asleep.

Asleep
in my arms,
your life signs fade -
a brother's promise kept
this night.

This night
fresh when all
has faded – rain
taps on split panes, tears still
falling.

Falling ...
Stupid heart,
when will you learn -
the hard landings always
break you.

Break? You
will some day.
Remember me
and we can compare our
pieces.

Pieces
of my heart
have been scattered
along life's clover leafs
gravel…

Gravel
riverbed...
how softer here,
and warmer, than our bed
became.

Became
just one more
sad statistic -
our love, that so slowly
ended.

Ended
as if we
never were one,
ended stale air from a
balloon.

Balloon
bursts popping
her inward calm -
giddy with helium,
set free.

Set free,
I wander.
Captive so long
to your control, I am
my cage.

My cage
is empty
of anything,
but the wish I was caged
again.

Again
and again,
"what if's" torture -
was this lonely path meant
to be?

"to be
or not to,"
the question asked
stayed long after Hamlet's
love passed

Love passed
while I slept;
or as I worked,
sometime when duty called.
My fault.

My fault
there's no place
for larks to nest
each hole blocked against their
fledglings

Fledglings,
where are you?
The vacancy
fills this empty nest like
darkness.

Darkness
descending
upon our day
a broken egg found on
the porch.

The porch
swing barely
moves in the wind -
I haven't sat there since
you left.

You left
unannounced -
I waited, your call
only a hi-wi booth
away.

Away
so long now,
your memory
is turning a fine shade
of rose.

Of rose
and love notes
never given -
a night's promise denied
by day.

By day,
I can smile
but when night falls,
I see your eyes again,
weeping.

Weeping,
the end near,
I will miss your
wisdom, laughter, mystery,
support.

Support
from good friends,
sympathy, too...
it all turns to ashes.
Alone!

soundlessly
munching on the lettuce
a caterpillar sups

         Hattori Ransetsu

not wishing to disturb
I cut the next head

          C W Hawes

ah moonflowers
and a woman's skin
unveiled

           Chiyo

moonlight visits
me in my room

              C W Hawes

EXPOSED
Laryalee Fraser
Werner Reichhold

heat spell
sweaty fingers slip
on the keyboard

dropping pebbles
to mark the path home
a new blister

childhood secrets
quiver in the dust
mortar crumbles

no light
at the end of the tunnel
striking the last match

two profiles
tomorrow slides between
the gap

Am Fuß des Abhangs -
wie klares Wasser dem Sand
entquillt und wegrinnt.

Unten am Stausee
in dem neuen Restaurant
herzhaftes Essen.

Ein Boot der Weißen Flotte
lädt sich Touristen ein.

At the foot of the slope -
clear water welling from the sand
and running away.

Down at the reservoir,
at the new restaurant
a hearty meal.

A White Fleet ship
loading tourists

sunlight on the lowering casket the unseen 'Knower of Secrets'

no misconduct Chinese patrons except me and mine for Din Sum

pelican jaw sharp-edged and thick decays in the sand

    finally the construction starts good weather

trip around the world zeroitis*

blustery wind swirls of pink cherry blossoms

  buckle up a small change in the fortunes of someone i know

IM from Hong Kong to verify hair appointment

  family get-together multiple birthdays

strips of old paintings dedicated to Dad

always-been-near love partner no daydreaming about him

unable to speak George waits in a hospice to join his Jeannie

mud pies in the park today's watering of all the azalea plants

a call from Ford to upgrade car mileage under 50000

pals hang around cloud nine undocumented population surges

after deciding not to mention aches and pains I do anyway

piled at the door and just after the maid leaves

terrorists' self-destructive wish helped along

my grandchildren beautiful inside and out

Mar 14-24, 2005

Notes
*  conversation sprinkled with zeros (hundreds of thousands, millions)
**the push to drill in alaskan wilderness for profit not oil
***nine-year-old Jessica Lunsford at the hands of a pedophile
**** interference in the Terri Schiavo case by congress and the president for all the wrong reasons
*****    sold on ebay

opening day 'faces of the fallen' at arlington the walls covered

lodged within the neolithic bird 'shevinity' even when i forget

cacti almost watered only kitchen cobwebs swept away

in his truck bed as many plants as i can give

barefoot that old feeling

love of dubya way way way down in the polls

oh swell a far-off quake near the last far-off quake

embraced by nonthinkers the 'brain dead' woman

male tennis a few knees return a hint of thigh

first run of dishes the manual unread the hot button unpushed

not as dark as when it was yet the pampas won't rake itself

a little girl ripped from her blue jeans and her full life ahead

the screen falls into energy mode part of dusk hits the window

bills neglected tho the tv asks and asks i don't pray for anyone

full-length rain on the turtle's eyebrows a field of notebooks

confusion from the vatican plugged or unplugged

toward rights thunder rolled in with sleet

Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists a spiritual crossroad reached

embedded the pedophiles

POMP AND CEREMONY
Francine Porad
Marlene Mountain

'pomp and ceremony' cardinals' secret selection of the Pope

hooray! the new pain medicines are effective today's pills downed

Israel wins top two of three Technology Innovation Awards 2004*

hallucinations frightening to me

pulled from the Tigris fifty bodies

following own conscience on moral questions

attractive people earn 5% more than the average

fire trucks screech past Earth Day

landscape photos Stephie says: Take me. I'm photogenic!

dinner party with my kids and the grands much too much food

starting a diet for health: reducing the risk of chronic disease

web worms and viruses one fly finds its way into the house

five for one by a surrogate mother now a part of the family

boys and girls keep active all summer even old-fashioned baseball

one feather falls from a goose-down quilt starlings swoop the sky

selecting my long ago haiku of water, air, fire and earth

original work kudos for our area's energetic burst

May Day vases full of tulips, roses and daisies

hot as heck can the world run out of little girls to degirl

even these mountains hang farther than the eye can see

toward sainthood a pope in charge of pedophiles galore

     cleared table tossing Mother's Day dead roses

   breach of security in dc biking dubya the last to know

    past the park caught in a storm of swirling cottonwood fluff

    a drip-drip sky plans for a sunny cookout unchanged

   sound of tires on wet pavement stretched out glad to be alone

    on the little screen a man kills a woman naked

    savethechildren.com back-to-school mom is a lifelong learner

     an ex-cia agent the tales he tells

     story of her art in combinations of that blue that orange

    oil-for-food scandal an accused blisters the accusers*

  in a courtroom scene on Law & Order prostitution determined

     down and out and up against the state

    shadows of flight a phoebe crisscrosses the drawn curtains

     my joyous heart I stare at each sun deck planter in turn

     warm breezes the county mowing machine idles on the bad curve

     bomb's a dud Bush speaks from behind bulletproof glass

      back in the money headline a new spin on north canadian furs

  high fashion babies today come with hats

     even with my newly-raked hair the truck remains pointed

     trip plans order placed for lotion from Mazatlan

    the latest leak tho hidden away saddam in his white undies

   undignified publicity 24-hour surveillance

     no matter what sleep pattern still not healthy wealthy wise

    mattress sale everything has a $100 tag

   'creation museum' tyrannosaurus rex on the ark too**

    'alleged' confession of 'alleged' rapist after 'alleged' he's the one

   a goes-all-the-way haiku 'person of interest' on earth

   popularity contest with husband Laura Bush wins hands down

    not a finger lifted a patch of yellow iris

asserting
her independence
the old lady
doesn't know
where she is

                        desert sand . . .
                        a photo of the sphinx
                        in the faded album
                        heads and hands touching -
                        the elderly couple

great grandson
explains again
you don't remove
"men" from
the chinese chequers board

                        spring day
                        buds on the willows
                        above the footpath
                        I wear the ninety-year old's
                        crotched scarf for the first time

lamb curry:
that's a huge meal
she exclaims
& then polishes off
every scrap

                        end of the day
                        the moon big and close
                        smudges the window
                        the cover turned down
                        on her bed

farmyard
surrounding a tree stump
white stone ducks

in the flax bush
one rosella

from among
the plate of cakes
two neenish tarts

sunset . . .
collecting the croquet hoops
rest home residents

JUNK FOOD
Catherine Mair
Patricia Prime

grass softens the erratic sound of my footsteps

trucks curve around into the 50k zone

sunning ourselves beside the TIP TOP ice-cream sign

inside the takeaway shop - bumps and crashes

illustrated on the timber supplies sign, a blunt saw

Her lips and eyes don't lend to words.
This alchemy transcends my words.

As distant worlds burn in her eyes,
she steels their flame to blend with words

The future bends back and curves to now:
just new beginnings, no end of words.

The desert moon shines in her sky
as Ofra's prayers ascend on words.

Liquid lines ooze and flow at will.
No poet truly penned these words.

THIRTY-SIX WAYS
The first word of each set, in bold, was determined by the sixth stanza of Wallace Steven's "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird."
Jane Reichhold
Werner Reichhold

Icicles
touching the swollen gum
where the tooth was pulled

on Sundays more emptied
Safeway's frozen food aisle

filled
heaven high with the chill
mackerel skies

foreign winds blow rounder
bubbles into her blouse

the curve of her breast
signaling desire he touches
her wine goblet

more red from such a warmth
tulips wouldn't close for sleep

long parted
sea fogs for a morning
crossing ships

the cause for rows of waves
the hollow clang of bell buoys

window program
shortly after midnight
a spotted owl lights up

chain saw in moth balls
the logger learns word-crunching

with a face lift
his wife wonders why
he too has whiskers

happy to hear the bird song
return of a bearded tit

barbaric
if one could but wouldn't stop
dog before a tree

third day of the diet
wanting chocolate so much 

glass tubes
lamps are forced to shine
closer to a patient

deep in our dark bodies
the radiance of white bone

the health care problem
Hillary
hilarious

a child dumps sea water
in a sand castle's moat

shadow forms
as day passes steep cliffs
faces of ancestors

in my mask an octopus
kelp green arm's slow motion

of Shiva
the patina brings centuries
to a bronze sculpture

pressed brown leaves a marker
in the fading book a glow

the clock strikes
wrong!
summer time begins

in the heart of grass I watch
April flowers growing colors

blackbird
the circle of his eye
widens the stars

too far, too early
flight within my dream

crossed
hairs in the glass
of the sniper's gun

trembling and the sudden fall
a man along his pass

it zigzags
life is never again the same
in the lightning's flash

strawberry cream letters
on a birthday cake

to a surfer
leaving a wave's tunnel
shark faced

the great jaws green white
sea energy travels wide

and between trees
swinging
maiden hair

prancing ponies catch the sun
whirl around the carousel

fro fogged
the ice restless
under the bridge

the sun comes bringing spring
wrapped in all that follows.

YELLOW WORDS
Beginning words, in bold, for each link are taken from Gertrude Stein's More Grammar for a Sentence.
Werner Reichhold
Jane Reichhold

A year of straw
air lifts July higher
to yellow words

sentence passed upon the field
upon the road two are walking

is it printed
their wagon's wheels press
lines into the clay

natural nature forms
language of a honeycomb

he who harvests
does not require
sweet memory

did they finish picking
summer in apples?

not the knot
in the hay rope seeds
sprouting

come in the name of green
grass feeding from twisted roots

this rain
the cloudy skies have cleared
tourists from the beach

is there more mouth to drink
warm visions in a tent

a fever
the wound becomes
hot and dry

joke walks away and returns
to a body of patience

a cat's name
goes out on the night air
brings him home

sentence of fast reactions
a mouse in its teeth

is now ceased
the brightness of an eye
where did it go?

natural on carved wooden masks
and no more noise in ivory

she shot he said
an elephant in Africa
later it was a lie

did shade a lip
on a faded Polaroid

which was
deeper down the river
a beach for nymphs

is imported from Hollywood
and portable palm trees

variable selves
testing inner voices
I talk to ring doves

and the forest answers
green, gold and russet

they swing
branches on the sky
lines of a paraphrase

will-o-the-wisps in the swamp
leading the way to quicksand

offer and swallowed
the lighthouse meridian
a flame

him she cried pointing left
the judge blinked blankly

liver transplant
we eat the onions
so it smells less

with I-beams and trusses
foreign workers repair the bridge

and on both hills
straps of rain
the cloud falling apart

without trying to go around
the spider straightway makes a circle

oil spreads on water
the calming influence
of one rainbow

a long-billed water ouzel
her flights to sprinkled eggs

sentence ending fast
the renga nearly done
at lunch time

made red more red on salmon
overlapping tongue

against a twig
the past and future folded
in a bud

...shading earth and me
the moon within nine months