#50

today we celebrate the 50th issue of hedgerow! the journal started as a vision of a place celebrating the small poem in its various shapes & forms, and a year later we are nearing 30,000 hits & 1000 likes on our facebook page. but numbers aside, it has been an amazing journey. thank you all for being part of it!

october’s resident artist is Alexis Rotella. find out more about the artist behind the art here — https://hedgerowpoems.wordpress.com/poet-artist-in-conversation/

 

with love & kindness.

 

https://www.facebook.com/hedgerowpoems

https://www.facebook.com/wildflowerpoetrypress

 

 

 

even a little
of you
would be
enough —
crescent moon

Paul Smith is a poet from Worcester in the UK. Alongside poetry Paul enjoys Japanese style ink painting, building cigar box guitars and playing old time blues.

 

 

 

Geisha

 

 

 

orion
sleeping pills
dissolving

Mike Andrelczyk is currently living in Strasburg, Pa. Also lived in Los Angeles, Ca. and Lewes, De. He likes writing haiku about the ocean, potatoes, moons, plants – mostly little things except the ocean which is huge, and the moon which looks little but isn’t. Follow on Twitter @MikeAndrelczyk.

 

 

 

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Poppies

 

 

 

in a tangle
i plait loose ends…
this twisted life

Pat Geyer lives in East Brunswick, NJ, USA. Her home is surrounded by the parks and lakes where she finds her inspiration in Nature. She is an amateur photographer and poet.

 

 

 

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Starlings

 

 

 

The child who collects pebbles
cradles the bones of the earth,
gives them meaning.
She walks her own path
straight to the trees.

Jo Waterworth lives in Glastonbury, UK, where she has been writing poetry for many years. She is published in print and online, and her pamphlet of short poetry is available from Poetry Space of Bristol. You can find her blog at jowaterworthwriter.wordpress.com

 

 

 

Persimmon frost

 

 

 

barber shop mirrors
a young boy wonders
about infinity

.

tree hollow
the ins and outs
of another world

.

incoming tide
the old stingray
crosses the sandbar

Simon Hanson lives in rural South Australia where he often walks the back roads down to the nearby limestone coast. Some of his haiku have been hatched on a clifftop overlooking the Great Southern Ocean and others while tiding the house overlooking the kitchen sink.

 

 

 

Migration

 

the art in this issue was brought to you by Alexis Rotella

I’ve been playing with words since I was a toddler. I remember sitting
on our front stoop in Southwestern Pennsylvania with a handwritten
letter from Uncle Bill to my mother. I thought if I stared at it long
enough I would be able to read…

 

https://hedgerowpoems.wordpress.com/poet-artist-in-conversation/

 

 

 

hedgerow #23

welcome to #23 of hedgerow, featuring 13 different poets & artists. this first issue of April celebrates spring flowers! enjoy.

with love & kindness…

https://www.facebook.com/wildflowerpoetrypress

https://www.facebook.com/hedgerowpoems

 

 

 

pale and watery
in my bones
I need red flowers tonight

even here
atop the ferris wheel
honeysuckle

3 red flowers
in a teapot vase
keeping me company
when you are away

the untuned piano
flowers dying in the vase
even the mail is late —
when will you be home?

lilacs
thank you
for filling my empty spaces

first slow rain of summer
dear iris
there you are
reveling in your
luscious self
making the most of all
your moments

beside the monastery
a plastic chicken
guards baby tulips

Zee Zahava looks for flowers each morning as she walks around her neighborhood in Ithaca, New York

 

 

 

front step. . .
this snail delivering
a plum blossom

cherry blossom moon
my home becomes
a palace

Julie Warther (@JulieWarther) lives in Dover, Ohio and serves as Midwest Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America. (www.hsa-haiku.org). Her haiku chapbook “What Was Here” is available through Folded Word Press. http://foldedword.bigcartel.com/product/what-was-here

 

 

 

graduation day
after the hands land
wondering what to do

Lauren Krauze writes short stories, short poems and long emails. She currently teaches and lives in New York, NY.

 

 

 

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Alexis Rotella (Arnold, Maryland, USA) served as Haiku Society of America President in 1984, her famous poem Purple appears in Creative Writing: An Intro to Poetry and Fiction St. Martin’s Press, Teaching with Heart (Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, 2014).

 

 

 

Repairs of the Week

That week you didn’t call
I was quite busy
plastering myself together
Shoring up the beams
Repairing the glass of an ego
That didn’t withstand the storm.
I swept up the gravel from
A rock hard heart
that remained unflinching
until now.
How unfair to the structure
To shake its foundation so.
How unfair to upend me so.
How unfair…

10 tips on writing a poem

1. Mention things by genus (which crows do you hear screaming like fog horns; which tuber in your garden is making your nose smile?).
2. Describe something as something else (the sun stings like battery acid).
3. It is helpful to mention vast expanses of hilly land with some wind slapping your hair around. Or conversely, the grittiness of your street, the dirt under your nails.
4. Bring in a few details like sights and/or tastes, but remember to describe them as something else (your hair tastes like fury).
5. Stop… Hold time in your palm. Look at it with the precision of a second-hand. Notice your smallness in the world. Or contemplate the vastness of the Milky Way.
6. What do you feel (remember… feel it as something else [your hands, like autumn kisses])? Notice and recount the details.
7. Reveal something so secret it makes others uncomfortable, and so big your priest is repenting from association.
8. Rhyme sparingly and with care. Same with alliteration.
9. Juxtaposition works well at the end.
10. Place your heart on your sleeve and send it off, then wait and wait and wait. Repeat…

Jeri Thompson resides in Long Beach, CA where she spends much quality time with herself and her Trikke (Scarlett Birdie) riding along the beach bike/Trikke path. Nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2014, she is soon to appear in Pearl Magazine. Also find her in Silver, Green and Summer Anthologies from Silver Birch Press, and online at Cadence Collective, Bukowski on Wry, Cactifur and Carnival Literature Magazine (Vol. 4). CSULB grad, studied with professors G. Locklin, E. Fried, R. Lee and R. Zapeda. LBC resident since 1993.

 

 

 

the potato seeds begin to sprout space station

Mike Andrelczyk is currently living in Strasburg, PA. Also lived in Los Angeles, Ca. and Lewes, De. He likes writing haiku about the ocean, potatoes, moons, plants – mostly little things except the ocean which is huge, and the moon which looks little but isn’t. Follow on Twitter @MikeAndrelczyk.

 

 

 

The Force

(After Dylan Thomas)

This tiny, nondescript, lavender flower,
growing in a crack in the sidewalk–

a divine explosion of cells–

has a power greater
than that of two spiral galaxies colliding
in space–

and you
share in that power.

George Young is a retired physician living in Boulder, Colorado, USA. He has published four books of poetry and has recently become engrossed in writing short, eight-lined poems.

 

 

 

her bookmark
divides The Art of Love —
living apart

moving day …
in her throwaway pile
my first chapbook

snow angel —
the touch of her lips
cold in my memory

Chen-ou Liu is currently the editor and translator of NeverEnding Story, http://neverendingstoryhaikutanka.blogspot.ca/, and the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation ( Honorable Mention, 2014Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook Competition).

 

 

 

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Joann Grisetti writes poetry and short stories. She lives in Florida with her husband and two sons. Joann loves travel and reading.

 

 

 

delicate
in her spring dress
of purple…
oh my, myrtle I say
where is this frock in winter?

Pat Geyer lives in East Brunswick, NJ, USA. Her home is surrounded by the parks and lakes where she finds her inspiration in Nature. Published in several journals, she is an amateur photographer and poet.

 

 

 

they look like snowflakes…
pear tree blossoms falling
past my window

Ed Bremson is retired, but he hopes he never retires from being a poet, just as he hopes he never fails to enjoy the pleasures of Spring.

 

 

 

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Barbara Kaufmann can be found (or lost) wandering in the woods, beaches and gardens of New York, her camera and notebook in hand, hunting for poems.http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

each story
sparks to the surface
in spurts
most of the time
I’m just living

Kat Lehmann (@SongsOfKat) lives in Connecticut, USA by the river where she writes. Her first book of free verse poetry, Moon Full of Moons (Peaceful Daily, 2015), was published in February 2015 http://peacefuldaily.com/page/books.

 

 

 

hedgerow #21

welcome to #21 of hedgerow, dedicated more or less, to the arrival of spring! for those of you in the southern hemisphere, wishing you a happy autumn equinox. always grateful for all of your support, contributors & readers alike, you make this a beautiful place.

with love & kindness…

 

 

 

crossroads —
a cloud
covers Polaris

Julie Warther lives in Dover, Ohio and serves as Midwest Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America.  (www.hsa-haiku.org)

 

 

 

unnamed-1

Barbara Kaufmann can be found (or lost) wandering in the woods, beaches and gardens of New York, her camera and notebook in hand, hunting for poems.http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

celebrating
seven inches of melting snow …
the frog choir

.

midday snooze …
the old dog stretches
toward a patch of sun

Julie Bloss Kelsey’s favorite thing about spring is the emergence of frogs, especially the spring peepers that frequent her back yard. @MamaJoules on Twitter

 

 

 

For Luck

The scarf she gave me is rather shocking. Orange, red, light blue, dark blue, shades of green. But not a smidgen of brown and the absence of purple is nearly palpable. More to the point: where is the black? Nothing I own, or have ever owned, has been this colorful. It’s alarming. But also, strangely magnetic.

I wear the scarf when I’m alone in the apartment, waiting for water to boil, or squinting over a book in the fading afternoon light. I don’t have the courage or the humor to wear it in front of anyone else. It wraps twice around my neck, is soft against my cheeks, and when I inhale I’m brought right back to that childhood bedroom at the end of the long, dark hallway. Did I have a baby blanket that felt like this?

for luck —
a red thread
hangs from the crib

Zee Zahava lives in Ithaca, New York, where she leads weekly Writing Circles in her downtown studio. She is the editor of brass bell, an online haiku journal:http://brassbellhaiku.blogspot.com

 

 

 

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Robin White is an artisan, gardener & beekeeper living in Deerfield, New Hampshire, USA. She is the face behind Wild Graces and a co-founding editor of Akitsu Quarterly, a haiku journal.

 

 

 

winter wind …
letting go of myself
in the sand

.

at the cliff’s edge
I wait
for the cold moon

Chen-ou Liu is currently the editor and translator of NeverEnding Story, http://neverendingstoryhaikutanka.blogspot.ca/, and the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation (Honorable Mention, 2014Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook Competition).

 

 

 

last leaf
goldfinch alights
the stripped branch

Lizz Murphy was born in Ireland but has lived in rural Australia for a long time. She has published twelve books and is currently fixated on small poems.

 

 

 

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Joann Grisetti lived up in Sasebo Japan and eighteen other places. She now lives in Florida with her husband and two sons. Her poetry, photos and stories have appeared in a number of print and online journals. She is still waiting to grow up.

 

 

 

Process

every morning before a mirror
you make-up like you were building
the world all over again on your face

do you not know that time
is a metaphor— for something that moves
deep and fast like fire on the mound of a wax

don’t you know that time is the same as death
even if it’s just a profusion of the process of dying
and living again

Saddiq Dzukogi is a Nigerian poet. He writes from the Capital city of Minna

 

 

 

hedgerow #20

welcome to #20 of hedgerow, bringing you nine different poets & artists. this will be the last winter issue, next week we’ll celebrate the spring equinox! send in your work in time. thanks for all your support, every effort is appreciated. happy friday everyone.

with love & kindness…

 

 

 

Snow / No Hummingbirds

Finally, the refrigerator motor shuts off and the loudest sound is one I make myself by circling my thumbs around each other. I don’t realize I’m doing this until I try to identify the sound and, by the process of elimination — since there are no hummingbirds in the apartment, no rustling leaves — I figure it out.

It’s been snowing all day. The last car went by hours ago and the tire tracks are filled in. Only two people pass, a man and a woman, walking down the middle of the street instead of on the sidewalk. I watch from the window: the woman, in a pale trench coat and high leather boots, holds a black umbrella over her head; the man wears a hooded jacket and lumbers beside her. They pass my house, then the fire station’s parking lot, the pretty house with the stained glass windows, the health club, and the abandoned storefront. They don’t appear to be talking to each other but I can’t be sure.

I go back to my chair, and the novel I don’t yet care about, and realize too late that I should have changed into warmer socks. I am too lazy to get up again. The refrigerator has started to hum again and the fire department’s generator just kicked in.

hour after hour
at the window —
yes it is still snowing

Zee Zahava lives in Ithaca, New York, where she leads weekly Writing Circles in her downtown studio. She is the editor of brass bell, an online haiku journal: http://brassbellhaiku.blogspot.com

 

 

 

trying to
clear a path from
the past
yesterday’s snow
heavy in his shovel

.

watching
for her return
another
snowflake melts
on my window

Dave Read is a Canadian poet whose work has appeared in many journals, including hedgerow. You can find his micropoetry on Twitter, @AsSlimAsImBeing.

 

 

 

lost behind
tree silhouettes
a fallen star

.

on the edge of
a snowdrop
rainbows

Vibeke Laier lives in Randers, Denmark, she has been writing and studying poetry since 2012, but her interest in the art of haiku stretches back to when she was a schoolgirl.

 

 

 

winter
a neon dream journey
nowhere zen road

.

unnamed

Carole Johnston lives in Lexington, Kentucky USA where she drives around Bluegrass backroads with a notebook and camera in the front seat, capturing the haiku moment. Journeys: Getting Lost, Carole’s first chapbook of haiku and tanka, is now available for presale from Finishing Line Press. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211

 

 

 

Granddad in waiting

Directed at the nirvana
whoosh…
a single digit
climbs the clouds
beyond the reach of the streetlights
trailing off into silence

Flash— Bang,

Out of this disappearing point of light
Cascades golden rain
a murmur of a pop
adds silver splashes—
fracturing stars
slowly fading—
crackling to out.

Hello?

More glittering Fingers—
racing skyward,
music?
Tchaikovsky 1812.
woven in with

Hello?

Shrieks whistles
blues and Reds
greens and yellows
hissing, screaming
bangs and ka-booms
a climax of illumination and
reverberation.

On your marks!

HELLO are you still there?
Do what lov’—

Set!

sorry—
I didn’t hear you

Go…
my heart starts the race,

Callum and Blake are here
you know, the twins
hello!
Yeah! Yeah! I hear you,

Finding it hard going
my heart
hammering on
the final lap

are they all ok?
mother and babies doing fine

pressing the tape—
crossing the finish line,
winner

lovely what weight—
hello! hello! what,

she’s gone—
I also hang up

after a pounding race
warming down
relief and joy
overwhelmed
I weep.

My first born—
that poor girl
pregnant; huge and
uncomfortable
feeling ugly
for the last few weeks.

My eyes swim as
reality floods
ya-hooooooooo
I’m a granddad
whoosh…
cue music…

Mike Keville from London AKA Mikeymike.

 

 

 

BACKLIT

She treads the shoulder
Hesitates
Her silhouette
fine-lettering limbs
serif paws
Her glance to the sun’s blaze
her swivel on one hind leg
her felicitous leave
The saving of her own fox self

Lizz Murphy was born in Ireland but has lived in rural Australia for a long time. She has published twelve books and is currently fixated on small poems.

 

 

 

winter reaching the middle of the pond

.

geese overhead
the one that fills the spaces
between honks

Julie Warther lives in Dover, Ohio and serves as Midwest Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America. (www.hsa-haiku.org)

 

 

 

subsiding gently into a hillside
a house I used to know

Molly Guy is Australian. She has had six books published, most of these contain collections of micro poetry and short stories.

 

 

 

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Sandi Pray is a wild child who roams between mountain and marsh in North Carolina and Florida, http://ravencliffs.blogspot.com.

 

 

 

hedgerow #17

welcome to #17 of hedgerow, bringing you ten different poets & artists. as always grateful to readers & contributors alike. please keep sending in your work as well as spreading the word, every effort really counts! thanks also to all of you who had a peek at our sister site wildflower poetry press. if you haven’t already, simply follow the links below —

https://wildflowerpoetrypress.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/wildflowerpoetrypress

with love & kindness…

 
 

Michael Curtis Paul

Here at the Museum of Bad Ideas

We climb the spiral staircase
With boundless enthusiasm, searching
Tirelessly for the co-relation
Of spit and sandpaper, Jackdaw and superstition.
My wife is singing ‘Mary had a little lamb.’
My wife is reciting multiplication tables.
Once she quoted Tennyson:
“There lies the port, the vessel puffs her sail.”
I reached for a bottle of port, and downed it.
We are ailing from the same ailments, but approach
Remedies from different directions.
She prepares to ingest certain curative
Substances, while I make an appointment
With the headshrinker and wait patiently
For the vessel to puff her sail.

.

All of this. All of that. All of the above.
A sort of summing up. A remedial mathematics of memory.

Walking a high wire strung between the Urban Dictionary and the Oxford Unabridged, Michael Curtis Paul is a tight rope aerialist with an inner ear disease.

 
 

Paula Dawn Lietz

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Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com

 
 

Debbie Strange

The Sacrament of Snow

the glow
of candled sea ice
at sundown
snowflakes melting
on our lashes

moonswept
the snowy foothills
u n d u l a t e
a night bird calls
my echo answers

a nimbus
around the frost moon
above us
the hushed wings
of a snowy owl

so many words
for rain and snow
in foreign tongues
yet the language of lovers
remains the same

Debbie Strange is a published tanka and haiku poet and an avid photographer. She enjoys creating haiga and tanshi (small poem) art. You are invited to visit her on Twitter @Debbie_Strange.

 
 

Natalia L. Rudychev

the phoenix of my heart
leaves fireflies behind
like fairy tale crumbs
so if i’m ever lost
there would be
living sparks
to guide
your
path
to
me

Natalia L. Rudychev is a philosopher, dancer, poet. She lives in New York, New York.

 
 

Caroline Skanne

periwinkle. chalk

Caroline Skanne, Rochester, UK is obsessed with anything wild and free. She is the founder of hedgerow: a journal of small poems. Her book ‘a hundred poems by caroline skanne’ is available from amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/hundred-small-poems-caroline-skanne/dp/1506022944

 
 

Barbara Kaufmann

How Is It Possible

on a morning when the clouds
curl back upon themselves,
and give up only momentary corridors of bare sky,
on a morning when those maddeningly small tokens of blue
taunt and tease a rain-weary, fog-weary heart,
how is it that the sighing wind,
bending toward the naked oak tree,
can carry a burst of bird song
through the myriad layers
of a morose winter morning,
piercing the frozen edges of a february nap
prodding and poking me out of my february nest?

By what miracle does a Carolina wren,
the tiniest of wintering birds,
on the gloomiest of winter days,
sing in the only voice
the universe gave it,
an April voice,
conjuring up a stunning moment of spring,
and bestowing a blessing
on the rain besotted morning,
anointing my eyes and ears
with the chrism of its winter anthem,
just in time to save my despairing soul
from the depths of this winter silence?

Barbara Kaufmann can be found (or lost) wandering in the woods, beaches and gardens of New York, her camera and notebook in hand, hunting for poems. http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/

 
 

Wendy Bourke

We walked by bushes in the rose garden
– happy – munching on kalamata olives and
spitting out pits, that landed, capriciously,
on the earth – like peace-loving bullets.

I rested my head upon his shoulder
and listened to the sound of our breathing . . .
as the minutes fell away.

Wendy Bourke lives in Vancouver, BC where – after a life loving words and scribbling poetry lines on pizza boxes and used envelopes – she finally got down to writing and publishing her poetry “in earnest” four years ago.

 
 

David J Kelly

incidental - David J Kelly

David J Kelly lives and works in Dublin, Ireland, where he finds scientific and artistic inspiration in the natural world.

 
 

Ed Bremson

the unstained snowy
mountain-top . . .
the pine woods,
the eagle soaring
amidst the clouds

Ed Bremson lives in Raleigh, NC, USA where he writes poetry, watches movies, erases novels, and makes haiku song videos. ‘the unstained snowy’ appears in Ed Bremson’s book of found poems Frankenstein, available at amazon — http://www.amazon.com/Frankenstein-Ed-Bremson/dp/1503116794/ref=sr_1_1

 
 

Veronika Zora Novak

on bent knees . . .
our hair washed by
twilit river song

Veronika Zora Novak is simply a daydreamer.

 
 

hedgerow #14

welcome to #14 of hedgerow, it is so good to be back! the second issue of the year brings you 14 different poets & artists. as always, grateful to contributors & readers alike, please keep sending in your submissions as well as spreading the word, every effort really counts! if you haven’t yet found our facebook page, please follow the link below. exciting news about the print version will be posted here this coming week — https://www.facebook.com/hedgerowpoems

with love & kindness…

 

 

Alexis Rotella

Like me
the moon folded
in half.

Alexis Rotella (Arnold, Maryland, USA) served as Haiku Society of America President in 1984, her famous poem Purple appears in Creative Writing: An Intro to Poetry and Fiction St. Martin’s Press, Teaching with Heart (Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, 2014).

 

 

Peter Wilkin

Galloping away from a murder of crows

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Peter Wilkin is a writer, poet & iphoneographer who lives in West Yorkshire, England.

 

 

Rachel Sutcliffe

day of your death
flowers at the bedside
shedding petals

.

alone now
the chill in our room
at sunset

.

the first night
without you
star filled sky

Rachel Sutcliffe, from Yorkshire, UK, has suffered from a serious immune disorder for the past 14 years, throughout this time writing has been her therapy, it keeps her from going insane!

 

 

Janet Butler

crow wings
across the morning
his hard song
a scratch on tender skies
his shadow grazes your hand

Janet Butler recently dove into the wonderful world of tanka, and has yet to emerge from it.

 

 

Carole Johnston

first a wren
then two crows
hawks stand guard
over winding roads
one flies across my path
out of the fog

Carole Johnston lives in Lexington, Kentucky USA where she drives around Bluegrass backroads with a notebook and camera in the front seat, capturing the haiku moment. Journeys:Getting Lost, Carole’s first chapbook of haiku and tanka, is now available for presale from Finishing Line Press. The books will be delivered in February. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211

 

 

Paula Dawn Lietz

my lips cold
upon your white shoulder
a desolate touch

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Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com

 

 

Janet Qually

caught up again
in your wave of emotion
two hearts pounding
I still enjoy
the escalation

Janet Qually (USA) has been published in several journals and enjoys writing all forms of poetry. She frequently creates computer graphics to illustrate her work.

 

 

Julie Bloss Kelsey

walking the labyrinth
with my never-born child
… the call of wildflowers

.

my daughter’s hug —
butterfly wings
around my heart

.

after the play date
glitter in the dust pan

Julie Bloss Kelsey (@MamaJoules on Twitter) just earned her certification as a Maryland Master Naturalist.

 

 

Robert Tremmel

INTERRUPTIONS

Legs up and straight
out in front

reading Red Pine’s
commentary on Heart
Sutra, page one-hundred
forty-nine, pondering
anuttara samyak
sambodhi, unexcelled
perfect mantra

siren
at the stop sign
beyond the trees

neither
can be put
into words.

Robert Tremmel lives and writes in Ankeny, Iowa.

 

 

Ed Bremson

unnamed

Ed Bremson lives in Raleigh, NC, USA where he writes poetry, watches movies, erases novels, and makes haiku song videos.

 

 

Garima Behal

pistachio shells we split our ways

Garima Behal is a student-poet-writer pursuing her graduation in Commerce, in New Delhi, India. Seeking a great Perhaps, she runs her blog at : http://theseismicscribbler.blogspot.in/

 

 

Shloka Shankar

this numbness
begins to thaw
tonight
i undress wounds
of the past

Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer who resides in India. She is the editor of the literary & arts journal, Sonic Boom. (http://sonicboomjournal.wix.com/sonicboom)

 

 

Chen-ou Liu

Confession of a Photography Addict

Mary invites me over to her place for an interview. She has her strands dyed every color of the rainbow, and looks much younger than she is. On the wall facing the window, she tacks up a giant photo of herself, composed of many smaller pictures. After taking a sip of iced tea, she starts talking in an unusually deep, husky voice, “I’ve spent ten years on a shrink’s couch, but I still hear him through the wall whispering to me. Every day when I get up and look in the bedroom mirror, I see that man staring back at me. I want him carved off my face…”

Father’s Day
blanked out on her calendar
morning chill

Chen-ou Liu is currently the editor and translator of NeverEnding Story, http://neverendingstoryhaikutanka.blogspot.ca/, and the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation ( Honorable Mention, 2014Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook Competition)

 

 

Chase Gagnon

through candle smoke
I write my poem
with the quill of a phoenix
while my fingers sink
into the gray ash of this life
for warmth

.

among
the dark prophecies
of withered
graffiti,
the cracks
in an empty sidewalk
full
of tiny
flowers

Chase Gagnon is a student from Detroit, who loves staying up all night drinking coffee and writing poetry. His poems have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies over the past two years.

 

 

hedgerow #3

welcome to the third issue of hedgerow! a big thanks to our 17 marvellous poets & artists. comments, likes & shares are welcomed, as are your submissions to forthcoming issues. thanks for stopping by! with love & kindness, enjoy…

 

Mike Keville

I trade my pencil
for a computer
wtih splel chcek

left in no doubt her eyes roll skyward

poems
on a dark day
some sunlight

Mike Keville from London AKA Mikeymike.

Steve Wilkinson

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Steve Wilkinson, Co.Durham,England. Editor of The Bamboo Hut. Lover of poetry,art and photography. http://thebamboohut.weebly.com

Kanchan Chatterjee

some guitar riffs
a soft laugh
and
a creaking
door. . .

sometimes you’ve got
only that
much

and

a late
August noon. . .

Kanchan Chatterjee lives in Jamshedpur, India, he loves to write short poems/haiku and sharing a hearty meal with his family.

Sandi Pray

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Sandi Pray is a wild child who roams between mountain and marsh in North Carolina and Florida, http://ravencliffs.blogspot.com.

S.Eta Grubešić

Upset.
The rhythm of my heart –
out of tune jazz orchestra.

S.Eta Grubešić, Croatia, ex-journalist, writer of short stories, poems and
photographer. Her works have been published in various books and literary e-portals.

Paula Dawn Lietz

I Dreamt I Swam in an Ocean of Winter

I dreamt I swam in an ocean of winter
and flew amidst the slippery slopes
of the finest petals.
I dreamt of moonlight gauze that swathed
my heart, rigid tenacity of the dressing
validating each beat, lub dup lub dup.
Dolphins frolicked alongside
white horses in the froth of grassy meadows.
You and I had no meaning we were simply~
there, together as one, naked and raw.
Minnows and gulls tried to play
but trust elusive between the waves.
As one cell called humanity we shook our heads
the dream was not theirs to direct.

I dreamt I swam in an ocean of winter.

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Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com

Chase Gagnon

in my florescent office
I wonder…
how small are the fairies
in the bonsai forest
on my desk?

When I return to the earth
I’ll let the fairies play hide and seek
with my bones
in hopes that they’ll hollow
my phalanges into little flutes
so music can flow
from the tips of my fingers
that crafted countless poems.

Chase Gagnon is a student from Detroit, who loves staying up all night drinking coffee and writing poetry. His poems have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies over the past two years.

Debbie Strange

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Debbie Strange is a published tanka and haiku poet, as well as an avid photographer. Her current passion is for creating haiga and tanshi (small poem) art.

Devin Harrison

wind chimes—
conduit for the rapture
of air

Devin Harrison recently won the Akita International University President Award.

Bill Waters

child’s bike
leaning against
a No Parking sign

traitor moon —
lovers are lost
without your light!

Bill Waters (U.S.A.) enthusiastically posts his haiku and more at twitter.com/bill312 and BillWatersHaiku.WordPress.com

Stevie Strang

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Stevie Strang is a writer, photographer/Artist and late night poet in Southern California. More of her work can be viewed a thttp://justperfectstudio.blogspot.com/

Robert Johnston

thirteen
_______
now she’s five
five
or six
she tells
me
she wants to reach
six
feet
so she can marry
an
N
B
A
player
and I say
that’s like
finding
a bell
then buying a push-
bike
for
it
but hell
this is the girl who tosses
me
green
slime
across the table
in the mall
and we have
to
fish
it out
of the left-over
sour cream
thir-
teen
moon beams

Robert Johnston, author of ‘Finding Me and You – an exploration of consciousness’ (Smashwords, 2014), lives in Dunedin, New Zealand.

Barbara Kaufmann

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Barbara Kaufmann can be found (or lost) wandering the woods, beaches and gardens of New York, camera and notebook in hand, hunting for poems. http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/

Shloka Shankar

solitaire –
you promise me
the moon

go green
I recycle my rejected
manuscripts

railway tracks…
the path that doesn’t lead
me to you

Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer residing in India. She loves experimenting with poetry and has found her niche in Japanese verse forms and found/erasure visual art. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shloka-Shankar-a-rasikas-musings/745965042120215?ref=bookmarks

Angelo B. Ancheta

sipping nectar
in the hedgerow
a fallen kite

pulling the night
a blanket of starlight
between breaths

Angelo B. Ancheta lives in Rizal province in the Philippines. He
writes haiku and short poems to unlock his mind, and flash fiction to
keep his sanity.

North Gregory

‘River Reflection’ (Black River, Ontario, Canada)

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North Gregory, Canada

 

previously published work —

Paula Dawn Letz ‘I Dreamt I Swam in an Ocean of Winter’ appeared in *Visions, Voices, and Verses Anthology for the New Britain Museum of American Art*
by Exiles Press 2012.

hedgerow #1

thrilled to bring you work from 14 different poets in the very first issue of hedgerow! the journal will be published every friday. comments, shares & likes are warmly welcomed, as are your submissions for upcoming issues. thank you for stopping by! with love & kindness. please enjoy…

Carole Johnston

in my dreams
I find Merlin wandering
among the hedgerows
I should have been born
inside a druid oak

once I was
a tree silvered
by the moon

you might find her
sleeping inside the yew hedge
the wild woman with
her rosary berries
she’s the keeper in the green

Carole Johnston lives in Lexington, Kentucky USA where she drives around Bluegrass backroads with a notebook and camera in the front seat, capturing the haiku moment.

Robin White

my tomboyishness
before
i
discovered
pink

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Robin White – artisan, gardener, beekeper at Wild Graces in Deerfield New Hampshire, founder and co-editor of Akitsu Quarterly.

Ronald Fischman

magical realism

drifting through breaking dawn a silken feathered
paintbrush dances its magic across ages
restoring color to rainbows, snow to mountaintops

parched soil opens a million mouths, in each a seed
the feathered wand spreads cool droplets
wildflowers of generations sing of their childhood

mountain lakes long since baked dry with sorrow
drink from clouds pregnant with seeded
raindrops. Weary farmers, I among them, splash, play

sadness dissolves into brilliant scales of species
long thought extinct. My own eyes glisten
in the rainbow, then dissolve into your own.

Ronald Fischman writes fiction, biography, and poetry in Philadelphia, PA. You can learn more about him at http://www.ronaldfischman.com.

Paula Dawn Lietz

Yellow Flowers of Innocence

Exhausted I laid on wild grass,
prairie and I common in our cycles.
Both burnt in this century, this society
this era of humanity.
This mess.
Only in the meadow dotted
with yellow did I allow myself to breathe.
To forgive myself of decisions
which society placed upon
my charred shoulders,
decisions not mine to bear.
When one does not belong
in this clusterfuck
it’s hard to call any place home.

Subconsciously I cradled
yellow flowers of innocence
as the drones flew overhead.

Car_Pd

Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com

Pat Geyer

blind man
smells a rose…
he stops

remaining heat
surrounds a field of green…
orange circles day

autumn wind…
blue flag still waves
around the pond

queen anne’s lace…
white doilies in summer
border the meadow

i walk through fields on
paths lined with wildflowers…
oxeye sees the way

Pat Geyer lives in East Brunswick, NJ, USA. She is a published poet and amateur photographer.

An Mayou

i collect flowers
along the way

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An Mayou lives in Boulder Colorado USA, she trained in visual arts and has been writing poetry for three years.

Ed Bremson

Blossoming

Give a boy a stream
and watch him find himself
among the water, earth and sky,
as his childhood drifts slowly by.
He needs no help or guidance.
It happens naturally
as it has since time began, or
perhaps
since time
stood still.

Ed Bremson is an award-winning haiku poet who lives in Raleigh, North Carolina, in the USA.

Bill Waters

almost winter
a flock of starlings
hedge-hopping

Bill Waters (U.S.A.) enthusiastically posts his haiku and more at twitter.com/bill312 and billwatershaiku.wordpress.com.

Alan Summers

wet prints
the sun takes the dog
elsewhere

Milky Way Train
I bring my inner child
down to earth

the hunched heron
these blue shadows
out of slow sunshine

falling clouds
the snow gathering
bits of moon

dandelions
gingerly pushing out…
micro civilisations

Alan Summers lives in Bradford on Avon, England, and is a Japan Times award-winning writer and a Pushcart Prize nominated poet, find more at: http://area17.blogspot.com

Pamela A. Babusci

deep autumn…
walking barefoot
on my mother’s grave

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Pamela A. Babusci is an internationally award-winning haiku/tanka & haiga artist.
She lives in Rochester, NY, USA.

David Agnew

‘We Need To Talk About The Rain’

Not the soft gentle rain
which drifts in from the sea
carrying with it both
scent and taste of the ocean,

not the wind driven rain,
horizontal in your face,
pushing you forward
in one direction only

not the downpours of rain
which bounce from the ground,
soak you from the bottom up
and from the top down,

not the thunder filled rain
which is best watched
from behind glass
as lightning streaks across the sky,

not the low cloud sort of rain
which obscures your vision
in directions making you
uncertain of where you are,

but the rain we walked through
that September evening holding hands
when we promised that next year
we would do this again.

Born in Northern Ireland David Agnew considers his poetry to be a continuation of the Irish tradition of story telling, his latest book ‘There are no such things as seagulls’ was published by Valley Press in 2012

Kathy Bowman

the first fluff of cottonwood falls
at twilight: suddenly
the little black mare trots through stars and galaxies.

Kathy Bowman, Joseph, Oregon, lead volunteer on Haiku Highway poetry adventure trail in Deschutes National Forest.

Veronika Zora Novak

wood smoke…
with each stride, closer
to stillness

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Veronika Zora Novak resides in Toronto, Canada, her haiku, tanka and photo haiga have been published in various journals and books, during her downtime Veronika enjoys film, photography, karaoke, nature, and simply daydreaming.

Mike McGuire

Frail floral beauty –
so ragged at the edges
it’s almost human

Mike McGuire is from Limerick City, Ireland but has spent half his life in Australia, he posts poetry regularly on his blog http://michaelmcguire.com.au/ and enjoys Tweeting micropoetry when time allows – @MikeMcGuire_

previously published work

Pamela A. Babusci, the haiku ‘deep autumn’ previously published in: Winter Lotus 9 fall/winter 2009.