welcome to this week’s issue of hedgerow. as always, grateful to readers & contributors alike! please click on the pdf link below to enjoy #89…
with love & kindness,
caroline skanne
founding editor
#89
2
Tag Archives: hope
#86
welcome to the last issue of hedgerow before the summer break. as always, grateful to contributors & readers alike. happy summer everyone!
please note —
submissions are now closed. you will be notified once submissions reopen, on our facebook page below. something special prepared for the first issue back… stay tuned!
https://www.facebook.com/hedgerowpoems/
https://www.facebook.com/wildflowerpoetrypress/
with love & kindness,
caroline skanne
founding editor
sandbox castles
toddlers choose
not to wage war
.
boxed up
the weight
of my childhood
.
peeling apples
not a word about
their sweetness
Elmedin Kadric was born in Novi Pazar, Serbia, but writes out of Helsingborg, Sweden. A student of both longer and shorter forms of poetry, and an avid observer of everything else.
a nodule
appears on the trunk
of a healthy tree …
the touch of her hand
up and down his back
.
saying nothing
we walk hand in hand …
silence stolen
by the crunch of footsteps
on a frost-covered trail
Susan Constable lives on the west coast of Canada, where she’s been writing haiku and tanka for the past ten years. She was the tanka editor from 2012-2016 for the online journal, A Hundred Gourds.
no longer sure
of who I am
shifting sands
.
insomnia
looking into the darkness
of time
Rachel Sutcliffe, from Yorkshire, UK, has suffered from a serious immune disorder for the past 15 years, throughout this time writing has been her therapy, it’s what keeps her from going insane!
heron pose how flexible the bending river
Elizabeth Alford is a magna cum laude graduate of California State University, East Bay (B.A. English, 2014). She currently lives in Hayward, California, is an amateur photographer, and spends most of her time writing Japanese short forms. Follow her poetry adventures @ http://www.facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry
Subhashini is a poet, artist and gardener. Her poetry book, “From the Anklets of a Homemaker” was published in 2013. She posts her art on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook as @neelavanam which means the “blue sky.” http://bluesky-gardenart.tumblr.com
My new jade Buddha
Small enough for my pocket
Big enough for luck
Stacey Crawford Murphy likes having short thoughts, especially when they turn into poems. She enjoys life in Ithaca NY with family and most of her other favorite people.
a bit rusty squeak of his grandkids swinging
.
community yardsale
the clutter
we’ve kept inside
.
freezing moon
a caged dog’s howl
lets out all i’ve repressed
Matthew Moffett lives in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, with his wife, two kids, and a Shetland sheepdog. He thanks you for reading his poems!
my tongue tastes
the saltiness of you
this need I have
for water
when you are gone
Lynda Monahan is a Canadian poet living in the Nesbit Forest of north central Saskatchewan. She is the author of three poetry collections. Her latest book, Verge, was published in spring of 2015.
Taste of Summer
fever point
the taste of summer
twilight
ghost peppers hanging
in crowded clusters
food trucks
at the farmers’ market
so many recipes using kale
community garden –
the tomato worm eats
more than his share
the toddler’s first radish –
puckering up
expanding horizons –
she brings home
a vegan
Angela Terry (Washington) and Julie Warther (Ohio) met at a Haiku North America Conference five years ago where they attended a workshop on writing rengay, a six verse collaborative poem. They’ve been writing together via email ever since. Both are regional coordinators for the Haiku Society of America (hsa-haiku.org)
summer dinner
after the last guest
feet on table
Aparna Pathak is freelance writer from Gurugram, India.
shifting shadows
of oak leaves in the wind
– the bog turtle’s eyes
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.
summer rain
finally I am all
cried out
.
white lilies
the empty pet bed
in the corner
.
desert rain
our footprints
washed away
Christina Sng writes haiku to immerse in nature amid life in the city. She finds joy in gardening, birdsong, and sakura tea. Find her at christinasng.com.
For nearly thirty years Rick Daddario of 19 Planets has lived on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Pond—Kailua, Oahu Hawaii USA. As a visual artist he plays with words in Haiku and Related Forms.
http://rickdaddario.com
http://19planets.wordpress.com/
http://www.blurb.com/books/3879621-this-is-not-that-they-are-just-connected
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)
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
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.
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
.
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.
Sandi Pray is a wild child who roams between mountain and marsh in North Carolina and Florida, http://ravencliffs.blogspot.com.
hedgerow #19
welcome to #19 hedgerow, bringing you ten different poets & artists, including for the first time some very short fiction! thank you all for turning up. it is a beautiful thing…
if you haven’t yet passed by our sister site wildflower poetry press — https://wildflowerpoetrypress.wordpress.com/
with love & kindness
The Journey Itself Is Home
for Matsuo Basho
I carry the dead weight
of cliched poetry
on the road
to the Interior
cherry blossoms drifting
Like the shadow in the morning, the workshop lecturer’s comment lingers in my mind, “There are two kinds of traveler-poets: those who look at the map and those who look in the mirror. The first are embarking on their journey, and the latter are returning home.”
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).
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.
out at sea
with no wind in my sails…
the hardest
place to be
is by your side
Sergio A. Ortiz, Editor http://undertowtankareview.blogspot.com/
reunion …
sailing in every puddle
thunder clouds
Archana Kapoor Nagpal is an internationally published author of four books and three anthologies. Presently, she resides in Bangalore, India. You can visit her Amazon Author Profile to know more about her books and literary contributions.
The 365th Day
This is the day we do that summing up.
Annoying, isn’t it, the way
we tally and sort the year’s days
into the things – or people – we like and those
that caused us pain? We inventory
and discard, if we’re smart, whatever
no longer works, or what
carries no joy. We have this need
to take stock, as though we
were running a giant store full of
stuff, boots and gloves, or jars
of face cream and scented soaps.
This year let’s
let it alone,
think instead of the faint yellow blush
on the forsythia. Soon we can snip
its branches, hammer the stems
against the stone walk, set it all
in warm water in an old jar.
The small blooms, and then
tender green leaves will unfold
in the corner window.
Forcing spring
in midwinter.
Lynne Viti teaches writing about law, technology and media at Wellesley College in Massachusetts. She has written and published on such disparate topics as law, television, gardening, fashion, and growing up in Baltimore. See her links to publications on her blog: stillinschool.wordpress.com.
pencil pine–
letters you wrote
to the moon
Robyn Cairns is a Melbourne based poet who shares her poetry and photography on twitter @robbiepoet.
Steve Wilkinson, Co.Durham, England. Editor of the Bamboo Hut and currently exploring the avenue of TanshiArt.
Strangers
I sit on the front steps waiting for my ride. I have to be careful not to get into the wrong car. Strangers pull up in front of my house all the time and I jump up and greet them like long-lost friends. Sometimes this scares them and sometimes it scares me. I’m always having to explain about being nearsighted.
Familiar
Once in a restaurant I waved to myself in the mirror because I looked so familiar. I was critical of my haircut but other than that I looked like someone I might like to know. I gave myself a friendly smile, along with the wave. This could have been embarrassing but luckily nobody else noticed.
Excited
In the dream my friend tells me she is studying “Berlitz” and I get all excited, thinking she said “burlesque.”
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
lemon gin
the sun sets
earlier today
winter winds
he still makes her
blush
Dave Read is a Canadian poet whose work has appeared in many journals, including hedgerow. You can find his micropoetry on Twitter @AsSlimAsImBeing.
Veronika Zora Novak is simply a daydreamer.
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
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
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
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
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
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
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 #13
welcome back to hedgerow! the first issue of 2015 brings you 16 different poets & artists. as always, grateful to contributors & readers alike, please keep sending in your work as well as spreading the word, every effort really counts!
with love & kindness…
Pamela A. Babusci
Pamela A. Babusci is an internationally award-winning haiku/tanka & haiga artist. She lives in Rochester, NY, USA.
Stacey Murphy
Shoveling
what if
while shoveling tonight,
I stop
just for a moment
cease the stooping, stabbing, groaning and lifting
turn my face skyward
close my eyes
hear the wind
as my shoulders relax
the handle slack in my unclenched hands
my ghost age 6
rides in on that wind
whispers, giggles
the gust of cold –
breathless
like the moment
at the end of a wicked sled run
flakes collecting
on my eyelids
like they did when
I finished making snow angels
just lying there, collecting them
like wishes
like potential
icy absolution
melting away
all flaws
all complaints
all guilts, real or imagined
we are clean in this frosty night
new in the world
once again.
Stacey Murphy is happiest when her thoughts are clear, short and haiku shaped, but living in Ithaca, NY helps too.
Chase Gagnon
safe inside a box
the christmas bulbs
from our shattered family
*
reaching for the wind…
in another life
I was a willow
*
perched on my lap
she tells me the owl
is her spirit animal
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.
Lizz Murphy
in my arms
a wounded eagle or
a half-waking moment
*
some are quiet about it
a wren barely bending the stem
a blackbird changing shadows
Lizz Murphy has published twelve books. Her seven poetry titles includePortraits: 54 Poems and Six Hundred Dollars (PressPress), Walk the Wildly(Picaro Press), Stop Your Cryin (Island Press) and Two Lips Went Shopping(Spinifex Press print and e-book). Her next title Shebird is forthcoming (PressPress). Lizz has been a featured poet in festivals and programs from the Illawarra to Darwin and Launceston. She is available for workshops and mentoring etc.
David J Kelly
David J Kelly lives and works in Dublin, Ireland, where he finds scientific and artistic inspiration in the natural world.
Zee Zahava
white butterflies at the window —
snowy morning —
my nearsightedness
*
another orchid blossom falls my grey hairs also shedding
*
I didn’t want to care so much but then I did — little ant
*
bowing to the setting sun my shadow walks into the sea
*
these long winter evenings
we listen to the moon
we listen to the stars
we listen to the beat
of our own hearts
Zee Zahava lives in Ithaca, N.Y. She writes most of her poems in a small notebook while taking her early morning walks. She is the editor of brass bell, an online haiku journal: http://brassbellhaiku.blogspot.com/
Archana Kapoor Nagpal
walking uphill …
one by one my steps
before my shadow
Archana Kapoor Nagpal is an internationally published author of four books and three anthologies. Presently, she resides in Bangalore, India. You can visit her Amazon Author Profile to know more about her books and literary contributions.
Mike Keville
bad temper
even my shadow and I
are not talking
*
family tree
the seed that fell
further away
Mike Keville from London AKA Mikeymike.
William C. Patterson
Leaf Smoke, Sun Streak
Not until this moment,
the sky impossibly coral streaked
& filled in by downy cloud,
did I accept the end of another year.
Some of what goes up does not come back the same:
the leaf that fell now rises as smoke,
its rustle now crackles,
its color now roasts,
& its rust smells of cherry, oak, & smoky peat.
soon, I know, the cold rains will come,
the leaves’ revenge, the end of fire,
the long sleep of seed & soil,
until the green fuse lit:
pop of bloom, crack of ice, hum of bird return.
but now, this evening that holds the cold away at a flames length,
a sky beholden not to art,
there is no sense in holding on to the past,
just being here now, just seeing & smelling
the end of another season is enough to settle this month’s doubts.
William C. Patterson lives, teaches, and writes in northeast Kansas. The poems come from his life with his family, his life teaching literature and composition, and the daily commute between these two lives.
Julie Warther & Meik Blottenberger
Julie Warther – Dover, Ohio (words)
Meik Blottenberger – Hanover, Pa (photograph)
Julie and Meik both came from other forms of writing to haiku. Now, they collaborate and support each other in their haiku habits.
Nells Wasilewski
five days of mourning
broken by
a cardinal’s song
Nells Wasilewski lives in the United States where she retired from the mortgage industry in 2011, and began pursing her lifelong dream of writing; she has had her work published in several Journals, magazines and books.
Janet Qually
foster children
start writing winter poems
will hearts be touched?
outside
wanting in
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.
Alexis Rotella
I tuck in my dolls
tell them
not to be scared
Mom and Dad
at it again.
*
As close as I can get
to my dead mother
her friend
who misses her
every day.
*
Sleek black crow
like a drone
it glides over
a farmer’s
fallow field
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).
Paula Dawn Lietz
Tangled
tangled and sticky thick web drags
like a forgotten anchor pulling
me deep into murky depths
of shallow
forces of the current bend
the willow straining
I panic it will break
will I
break
I hold on
fearful in
my grasp
knowing
if I let go
I
will
d
r
o
w
n
Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com
Jon Wynne
Tears
Tears are just a way
To wash the dust from your dreams
Dry them carefully. Look!
See how they sparkle in the Sun
Jon Wynne lives in Hampshire and has been writing on & off for many years. People and places are the real poetry. ‘I just try to describe what I see and feel.’
Julie Bloss Kelsey
driving home
under the inquisitive gaze
of a spotted fawn
*
despite the clouds
I still believe …
rose moon
*
cirrus at sunset —
a line of fire rainbows
ignite the ocean
Julie Bloss Kelsey (@MamaJoules on Twitter) just earned her certification as a Maryland Master Naturalist.
hedgerow #7
welcome to #7 of hedgerow, bringing you 19 different poets & artists! please keep sending in your work and thanks also for spreading the word, every effort is appreciated. grateful to contributors and readers alike. with love & kindness…
Marianne Paul
beneath Toronto
there is an ancient river
the current as slow as the flow
of glass
there is something beautiful
about the hidden
the forgotten
in the form of rivers
beneath our surfaces
Marianne Paul is a Canadian novelist and poet. You can learn more about her work by visiting http://www.mariannepaul.com or following her on twitter @mariannpaul.
Jennifer Arbini
Child of the Earth
I was a child of the Earth:
Dirty hands, dirty feet.
I loved the sound
of cicadas in summer;
Rattle snake grass
Rattling against the hem of my skirt
And billowing dust.
I was a child of the Earth:
Curious eyes, curious heart,
I relished the adventure of exploring the land;
Cool streams
Covered by an evergreen canopy
And dappled light.
I was a child of the Earth.
Devoted mind, devoted spirit,
I played in this backyard everyday;
Long ago memories
Lingering in my daily thoughts
And writing my story.
Jennifer Arbini is a Californian woman whose greatest passion is to travel and experience the world.
Jo Waterworth
It’s OK
I can remember lying on the earth
gazing at the blazing-with-wonder night sky
knowing I would not fall off.
Shining right back.
Let me hold your hand.
Jo Waterworth lives in Glastonbury and has had a pamphlet of short poetry published by Poetry Space of Bristol.
Neelam Dadhwal
Blue
The sky dripped away or
held back, with no remorse,
I ever watched
the crescent blue,
striking sometimes
my heart
of green valley, of meadows,
of limbs of forms,
and I decided
to look at you,
and hold it for ever,
the blue of you.
The ever blue.
Neelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh, India
Paula Dawn Lietz
Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com
Clifton Redmond
Square Peg
He was different.
He could see sounds,
feel colours.
When people tried
to get close
he threw tantrums,
pressed his hands
against his ears,
his cocoon.
The doctors diagnosed
him with fancy words,
dosed him with drugs;
branded him unstable,
and filed him away
in a locked cabinet.
Clifton Redmond is an Irish poet; a member of the Carlow Writers Co-operative, his poems have been published in various literary magazines and journals.
Anne Curran
just loving
I hold him close
afraid
the storm in me
might push him away
Anne Curran lives in Hamilton, New Zealand close to her
parents where she writes, dreams and works to help elderly
stay in their homes.
Melanie Barbato
Roman Room
Mnemonists
Tie thoughts to tangible things
With the chair, the table
The framed painting on the bedroom wall
They recall
Random words
Or the order
Of shuffled cards
I do this, too, but for reassurance
I touch in my room
The wood and the glass
Substitutes for what
Has been wrested from my hands
When I ask who am I?
They say
You give us shelter –
We remember the names
Melanie Barbato is currently completing her doctoral studies in Indology and Religious Studies at LMU Munich/ Germany.
Carole Johnston
among tombstones
an old man in a chair
red cap and jacket
playing music for the dead
leaves blowing in the wind
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 January. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211
Maureen Sudlow
It’s just an old cardboard box from my mother’s attic. My sister wants to throw it out with ‘all the other rubbish’, but I am afraid of losing more of my mother than I can bear. When I open it, there is a smell of dust and old peppermints, and I think I feel the pressure of my mother’s warm hand on mine.
memories are
the treasures that I hold
these photographs
Maureen Sudlow is a member of The New Zealand Society of Authors (Northland), and the New Zealand Poetry Society, and writes mainly poetry and text for children’s picture books.
Billy Antonio
summer vacation
my daughter’s crayons
scattered on the floor
late afternoon
an old woman carries
the sun
on a winnowing basket
on her way home
Billy Antonio is a public school teacher in the Philippines where he writes fiction and poetry to remind himself of moments he thinks are worth remembering.
Roary Williams
crystal
on a string
in the window
first thing the sun
has said all day
Roary Williams, Albuquerque New Mexico, USA, is a simple poet who loves nature and the seasons (@CoyoteSings)
Stevie Strang
november sunrise
silently inches its way
across the yard
unfolding the morning
one ray at a time
Stevie Strang is a writer, photographer/Artist and late night poet in Southern California. More of her work can be viewed at http://justperfectstudio.blogspot.com/
S.Eta Grubešić
Grain of sand.
In my shoe I wear the
whole universe.
S.Eta Grubešić, Croatia, ex-journalist, writer short story , poems and photographer. Her works have been published in various books and literary e-portals.
Vibeke Laier
touch of
moonlight in the
evening prayer
gentle waves
a line of stars
painted in the sand
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.
Tim Gardiner
onshore wind sea horses dance
Tim Gardiner, Manningtree, England is a professional ecologist who has written scientific papers, natural history books and poetry which has been published in literary journals such as Blithe Spirit and Frogpond.
Julie Warther
above the spillway —
root steps
in the riverbank
Julie Warther writes haiku from her home in Dover, Ohio where she lives with her husband and three children.
Laura Williams
all that remains … frost on the blackberry brambles
Laura Williams has been writing haiku and tanka since 2012. She lives in California, USA. http://www.foralovelything.blogspot.com
Caroline Skanne
Caroline Skanne, rochester, uk, obsessed with anything wild & free, she is the founder of hedgerow: a journal of small poems.
hedgerow: a journal of small poems 