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August 2008 Issue VIII:3
Poems
Mouse over the area below each group of poems to reveal the authors or click here to reveal all authors.
another shoeless evening
at the bottom
of the world |
|
lilac scent
straight to
my purple heart |
| |
entering barefoot
the scent
of lemon |
|
| |
running
for nothing
rainy headed boys |
|
tic tac toe
another cat's game
in the universe
|
|
nose pressed in boletuses
I could not be found
in this world |
Patrick Sweeney
down all the alleys
of seventeen
lilacs
|
|
between branches
between bones
winter fog
|
Ann K. Schwader
who knows
daisies
who knows who knows |
|
|
by the light of the pine do not resuscitate |
dust devil on a dead planet
|
a sharp wind your tears around the corner |
|
|
year after year
of zeros
blue eyes |
John Stevenson
| within the stone the sandstorm |
through me the reedy night harmonica
|
Billie Dee
why not the june sky lingers in one star's blue light
|
Andrea Grillo
| maintenance required and rain and rain |
|
this dandelion
inside my chest |
|
two walls of green pulling us deeper |
Dana Duclo
| |
the rain opens
thousands of eyes
in a peacock
|
|
your last breaths
I am breathing
with you for you
and sometime
after
|
|
the wind turns
and turning takes on
a body of many
bodies, blackbirds turning
into light
|
in a seed I don't know the answer |
no season
what this moment needs
is a penguin
|
|
down the long hallway
of a telescope
my howling eye |
Peter Yovu
| |
The door to my throat opens :: the only thread shining |
Standing alone :: there is a coffin :: too small for my days |
Go into the knife :: a cup of black clouds to drink |
| Is forsythia the wrong destination |
|
Grant Hackett
| |
Use masks when you go
Down to the barrio place
And just cover your face
|
|
G. David Schwartz
Oh, only two eyes
to see this:
the sky full of lanterns
|
|
Smiling
behind the death mask,
this is God, too
|
| |
Such is autumn:
if I cry, I cry
I must face this grave |
|
| |
I was born here
with those cold angels
and their trumpets |
|
Narcissicus,
Let me keep you in this vase. |
| That sound pigs make with room to move |
But I found myself in these waters that run by the church |
Capturing a butterfly the American in me |
Paul Pfleuger, Jr.
| when in doubt i ask the spreadwings |
in the ever-changing compost to ponder |
tennessee crop circle food prices rise in outer space |
where blood shouldn't be young leaves of dogwood |
marlene mountain
| |
siesta
the sun
sketches me a moon |
|
Helen Buckingham
|
chromatophores:
concealing the lover
revealing the loved |
|
| |
is it the loved
or the lover,
sunning
|
|
| |
I see you
chameleon
blossom
|
|
Sabine Miller
|
altered memories
birdsong tugging
at the sky |
|
Carolyn Hall
| blue waves where the body washed up |
|
|
|
anyway
this is the road I'm on:
snowfall thickens
|
Mike Dillon
|
that time of day
sunlight on water
water on sunlight |
|
George Swede
Victor Ortiz
| |
whodunit mystery—
the winter moon clears
its throat |
|
glühwein—
a dark hole
in his laughter
|
|
Capitol garden
I teach roses
to be quiet
|
|
under Buddha’s eyes
a janitor sweeps
yesterday’s petals
|
|
Fay Aoyagi
| into the whys of the river bend the pied-billed grebe |
white dew the crow stretches out its caw |
from tomb to boneless tomb the black redstarts
|
John Barlow
| |
moonlight
on the tips of her fingers
crushed moths
|
|
John W. Sexton
|
sandflies
in the surf
the breath of clams
|
|
Patrick M. Pilarski
. . . don't worry snake the stars will get us both |
| |
aphrodite . . .
winding kite string
around a dowel
|
|
| |
chill night
losing its shape . . .
confucian dream
|
|
nothing is swifter than a rumor clouds |
startled by the shadow of a spider walking stick . . .
|
Tyler Pruett
| |
wind-borne seed
I have
my doubts
|
|
Peggy Willis Lyles |
Copyright © 2004-2008 by Roadrunner Haiku Journal. All rights revert to the authors upon publication.
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