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November 2008 Issue VIII:4
Poems
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bruising the moon
shreds of Hiroshima
bleeding into silence |
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turtles on a log
making no speeches
world peace |
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in tears
a slug leaving lettuce
at dawn |
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William M. Ramsey
whales gather
at dusk
to sing
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atoms
made of
concrete |
Dick Whyte
Oceanglass
in green times confident of doing good work
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lovers i whisper to the dictaphone
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expecting the baby to have a womb |
John Stevenson
staggered by a gut bug
I step into the medicine's
heavy punch |
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we sail the night
roof creaking above us
spread to the wind |
William Hart
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“not animal-shaped,
the mounds of Suburbia appear
to be fortifications”
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Michael Nickels-Wisdom
her broken soul
surrounded
by logic |
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accidental orchard: I am found |
Mike Dillon
massive clouds
dwarfing my
resolve
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dear cloud
what were you before
yesterday's bones |
blue wolves are howling grapefruit orange . . . |
baby beans racing moonlight . . .
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the midnight shadows looking cold buddha stories . . .
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poe, you will be pleased to hear, is now in perfect health . . . |
Tyler Pruett
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Shall I harvest the garden in your veins |
| How wide is the trying :: between the rose and the sea |
The book should be the last :: poem, lifted from the grass |
The eggshell is asleep in my hands :: long before spring |
| May your voice be the ropes I am lowered on |
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Grant Hackett
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snow on mars tonight earth's flaming arrow
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Helen Buckingham
i stuff the thunderstorm
inside a cicada shell
that's been around the world |
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under its green wing
every single creation
story |
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infringing
on the dunes
mercenary's smile
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lakes
& now wolves
entering Pegasus |
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like a mosquito
or an old empire
city night |
Nucleolus
| touch-me-nots begin the takeover role of orange |
carbon-eating poem evaporates |
some of his limbs and mind returned |
haiku of my photograph photograph of my haiku |
| the heat somebody else can do whatever it is |
marlene mountain
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winter wind through
fistholes in the walls
small naked sounds
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Joanne Merriam
two-dimensional wise men across the pulp mill roof
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dark seed pods
rattle
the Judas tree
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ground ivy flowering the small blue earth |
Peggy Willis Lyles
fox mask :: what have
you become
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cracked vessel :: an octopus crawls out of
low tide
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in these old clothes :: i am the falling leaves
and their shadows
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earth :: scale
granite hills
under bracken
a deer's red heart |
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falling star
a starshaped space
miscarriage
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in his black hair the bones of old prayers |
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at the burial -
a wasp reminds me
of last night's dream |
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Clare McCotter
the weight of the moon the relief of the moon |
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arms spread wide–
this sun
could eat me
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Dana Duclo
i did it for love asteroid hurtles |
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the words
rise in the solar wind
line breaks |
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the pines--their scent, their sound . . .
their fallen measures
of time
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on my back
in the freshly-cut grass . . .
a blue horse |
George Swede
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a far off wind
but where are you
listening |
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we come
here: beneath the waves
the rest of the ocean |
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coming out of
a hard house
the flowering dawn |
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Peter Yovu
on streets with no names, numbered crash-sites |
the ocean's
algorithms . . .
a few loose strands of hair |
in a windowless world seeking osmosis
(with a phrase by Jim McKay)
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| sturplus |
Philip Rowland
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Copyright © 2004-2008 by Roadrunner Haiku Journal. All rights revert to the authors upon publication.
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