Welcome to the July 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
The theme of this month’s collection is “sound / no sound”
Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, the United States, and Wales
old barber
his scissors snip
around my ears
Adjei Agyei-Baah
the hidden language of dentures
ai li
desert wind . . .
the rusty windmill
squeals all night
Al Gallia
a new crack in the twice-recast Liberty Bell
Alan Bern
amplified in the bird box bees
Alan Peat
footsteps ring along a sidewalk the fog lifting
Alan Summers
a monk
sounding the butterfly
out of the bell
Alexis Rotella
written exam —
the silence interrupted by
a question
Ana Drobot
silence reigns
in this empty house —
I miss you mom
Angela Giordano
yellow zinnias —
the cell phone rings
inside the bag
Angiola Inglese
argument settled
a single clink of her teaspoon
against the cup
Barbara Sabol
solitude
dust gathers in his
empty room
Barbara Tate Sayre
aisle seat
the click of the ticket punch
getting closer
Barrie Levine
storm front!
up and down the street
mothers calling
Bill Waters
loving to hear
what dad didn’t say —
long drives in his truck
Blue Waters
whistling along Wyoming
Brad Bennett
two-minute silence
at the cenotaph
a veteran weeps
Bryan D. Cook
horror flick
the sloppy kiss
of the couple behind me
Bryan Rickert
waking before birds
no song accompanies my
stumbling steps
C. Robin Janning
magic forest
the tintinnabulation
of fairy bells
Carol Judkins
thump thump thump
street basketball
long into the night
Carole Johnston
sleeping in —
the silence
of the cat’s stare
Carole MacRury
a foreign language:
I listen to the poem
just for its music
Charles Trumbull
the clatter
of this rusty gate
foreclosure
Chen-ou Liu
quietude . . .
phlox blossoms round
the stone Buddha
Christina Chin
whisper of wool
nothing
but the crochet hook
Christina Martin
crackling
my son’s voice
changing
Christina Sng
tv yoga
static interrupts
shavasana
Christine Wenk-Harrison
under covers
beneath an open window
angry voices
Claire Vogel Camargo
five a.m. white-crowned sparrow’s etude
C.R. Harper
that dog
he doesn’t know
why he’s barking
David Watts
watersongs the differing frequencies of stones
Debbie Strange
spirit totem
a swallowtail pulsates
around her cairn
Deborah Burke Henderson
because snow quiet
because ancient sun and moon
the way hearts sing
Donna Fleischer
flying
with no sound
origami plane
Elena Malec
first thunder
my boy bursts
his balloon
Florin C. Ciobica
waiting room —
the fidgety clicks
of someone’s pen
Geethanjali Rajan
lead singer
1980s basement band —
hearing loss
Geoff Pope
spring solitude
a chickadee’s thrum
from the knothole
Hifsa Ashraf
my mother singing
along with the radio
tuned in to her dreams
Jack Goldman
morning chill . . .
the squeak of his chalk
on the blackboard
Jackie Chou
street performer
draws a crowd
the clink of coins
Janice Doppler
spilled ice cream
the duck’s quacks
sound like laughter
Jay Friedenberg
the whole room yells
“unmute yourself” as if
they care what he’s saying
Jenna Le
beyond pine shadows
and crickets . . . the clop
clop of an Amish buggy
Jill Lange
in between . . .
the krawk krawk krawk
of a pinyon jay
Jo Balistreri
dancing to my own heartbeat
Joan Leotta
songbirds
suddenly
I’m not alone
Joanna Ashwell
burying our friend
we walk back singing that song
half-moon on gravesite
Joel Savishinsky
the pause
after I ask
if she still loves me
John J. Dunphy
catching my breath
the parp and wheeze
of an old bike horn
John Pappas
frozen snow —
I hear
the loneliness
Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi
the tern’s call the enormity of the sea
Joshua St. Claire
ploughed fields
oxen mooing
under the ombu tree
Julia Guzman
mature garden the squeak of an old wheelbarrow
Karen Harvey
at the Shinto shrine
bow twice, clap twice, bow again
make a little wish
Karla Linn Merrifield
finally getting the right tone singing bowl
Kath Abela Wilson
80 years
of yankees’ games
turning the sound up now
Kathleen Kramer
one hot June morning
blueberry meditation
orbs ping on brass bowl
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
harvest moon . . .
through the violet veiled night
my muse whispers
kris moon
day lilies open wide . . .
loud laughter
from our neighbor’s party
Kristen Lindquist
parched earth
a loud crack of thunder
from an earthen pot
Lakshmi Iyer
so hard
not to slam
the door
Laurinda Lind
morse coding climate change the fireflies
Lorraine A. Padden
insomnia . . .
woodworm working
in the dark
Lucia Cardillo
stale mint gum
the clank of a zipper
in the dryer
Marcie Wessels
like a small distant
elephant trumpeting: fart
under the blankets
Margaret Fisher Squires
sunday dinner
the children’s table
on the porch
Margaret Walker
djembe
the throbbing heat
of summer
Marilyn Ashbaugh
outback night
dingoes’ songs echo
across the gorge
Marilyn Humbert
just married
joyful shivarees
all night long
Marta Chocilowska
lyrics long forgotten
the melody always
in my mind
Mary Kendall
sweet summer peach
slurping the best bit
from the pit
Masha M.
summer heat
buzzing flies take refuge
in the basement
Maya Daneva
in that sliver of blackness
between barn and moon
coyote calls his name
Michael Flanagan
uncanny
his lawn mower knows
I meditate
Michael G. Smith
talking
to his plate
alone
Mike Gallagher
summer storm
all these silent talks
between you and me
Milan Rajkumar
night walking alone
i miss the sweet harmonies
i no longer hear
Mimi Foyle
family meal
from the other chair
the cat’s meow
Mirela Brailean
bells chime the hour
uneven stepping stones
across the stream
Miriam Sagan
wakeful child
humming an old lullaby
granny dozes
Neena Singh
laughter
in every language
ESL class
Pat Davis
recovery
the dog who lost its bark
finds it again
Paul Beech
slight of hand —
in response to being duped
hearty applause
Paul Callus
hearing loss
silence flows
from his moving lips
Pris Campbell
seaside concert
the roars of seals
during pianissimo
Richard L. Matta
dad’s death day —
a mourning dove coos
just enough comfort
Robert Epstein
gentle rain . . .
sliding into the weekend
on wet leaves
Roberta Beach Jacobson
mockingbird
knows what you want to hear
cedar waxwing
Ron Scully
zen garden
the flapping wings
of a butterfly
Rosa Clement
dune path —
just before the surf’s boom
we smell it
Ruth Yarrow
Quaker meeting
a lone fly’s hum the only break
in the heat
Sue Norvell
hiccups all the things I can’t control
Susan Burch
the swish of the brush
dad’s shoe propped up
on his shoeshine box
Teresa Bakota Yatsko
handlebar mustache
the way he rolls
his r’s
Theresa A. Cancro
not even twilight can contain this silence
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
no one hears
the ocean
in my ears
Tom Clausen
noisy tourists
a praying monk
rolls his eyes
Vandana Parashar
midsummer rain
echo of thunder
in the conch shell
Vibeke Laier
noisy tractor
goes silent for a moment
the lark song
Wieslaw Karlinski
sore throat
after six hours
protest march
Wilda Morris
afternoon nap
my sweetheart and i practice
synchronized snoring
Zee Zahava
brass bell: a haiku journal
curated by Zee Zahava
Friday, July 1, 2022
sound / no sound
Wednesday, June 1, 2022
one-line haiku
Welcome to the June 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
This month there is no particular theme. Each poem is just one line long (or even a single word!) . . . revealing meaning and depth in a deceptively simple form.
Contributing poets are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States
pond’s ripple a koi’s breath
Adjei Agyei-Baah
the sweetness of well water
ai li
so many Alans clumped in the school lunch line
Alan Bern
our packages delivered next door daily with a smile
Alan Bern
fish tank the squared-off edge of leylandii
Alan Peat
family of mice the night train briefly ruffles the snow
Alan Summers
wind whisper the night shifts to owls
Alan Summers
the recluse brings in another stray
Alexis Rotella
smoke from the chimney scribbles across the sky
Angela Giordano
too many words my dry throat
Angela Giordano
on the sandcastle a lollipop
Angiola Inglese
a slight smile in the corner of her mouth the wall still stands
Ann Carter
among the clutter of the junk drawer dad’s old watch
Barbara Sabol
sensory overload i count rotations of a ceiling fan
Barbara Tate Sayre
in plain sight an artist paints the north wind
Barbara Tate Sayre
collateral damage a felled tree’s shadow
Barrie Levine
nightfall the last crossword clue
Blue Waters
ice the riverbanks finally meet
Brad Bennett
breaking my fall a haiku moment
Brad Bennett
power failure still flicking light switches
Bryan D. Cook
blackout the glow of grandma’s oil lamps
Bryan D. Cook
off the beaten path the best poems
Bryan Rickert
aging a rose falls apart on the counter top
C. Robin Janning
dozing until the tea cools ignoring the news
C. Robin Janning
steam train whistles midnight mourning
Carol Judkins
raven on my shoulder first tattoo
Carole MacRury
a little of you in me narcissus
Carole MacRury
again but with more feeling spring breeze
Caroline Skanne
forgetting to remember blue butterflies
Caroline Skanne
the resonance of the bell deep inside
Charles Trumbull
interstellar flight endless night
Chen Xiaoou
misty lake drifting between loon calls
Chen-ou Liu
silence between us the phone lines sagging with May snow
Chen-ou Liu
the waiter’s perfumed wipes extra tips
Christina Chin
calligraphy practice on the blank squares new calendar
Christina Chin
squirrel park more squirrels than trees
Christina Sng
honeysuckle pruning I dream again
Christine L. Villa
tuning up bagpipes in a closed room
Christine Wenk-Harrison
translating the parrot’s new rant unpronounceable
Christine Wenk-Harrison
writing in bursts the rain
Claire Vogel Camargo
meteor gone before i can say it
Debbie Strange
in every boulder crevice a different green
Deborah Burke Henderson
crow caw meditation broken
Deborah P Kolodji
no moon tonight i walk alone
Devoshruti Mandal
how to hold nothing
Donna Fleischer
filled to the brim with emptiness origami cup
Elena Malec
deep meditation a fly fell asleep on my forehead
Elena Malec
blackbird’s song unfolding an old map inside me
Florin C. Ciobica
ants forget wildflowers remember
Frank Muller
what of the dust storm butterfly
Geethanjali Rajan
stepping into the unknown a rainbow
Geethanjali Rajan
cutting an avocado the way we compromise
Geoff Pope
my mirror is up to its old tricks
Jack Goldman
mother’s grave the red roses she never liked
Jackie Chou
beyond my fence a fawn watching me watching red apples
Jill Lange
rosemary for remembrance and spaghetti sauce
Jim Mazza
daily yoga practice weeding the garden
Jim Mazza
heavy fog mountains disappear
Joan Leotta
windswept our words becoming tide
Joanna Ashwell
rainfall skimming along with the dragonfly
Joanna Ashwell
a strand of her hair curled on my pillow crescent moon
Joe Sebastian
dawn greets me with questions
Joel Savishinsky
footprints on the “no trespassing” sign
John J. Dunphy
ginkgo leaves my niece parting her doll’s hair
Joshua St. Claire
moose in the meadow the cow watches
Karla Linn Merrifield
labyrinth now I remember the night I was born
Kath Abela Wilson
I dream my dead mother says she loves my latest poem
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
within each morning glory its own dance
kris moon
drum beats the mountain echoes boomerang
Lakshmi Iyer
rain under my collar the things i forgot
Laurinda Lind
your birthday i miss you we no longer speak
Laurinda Lind
all the glass not found on the beach cataracts
Lorraine A Padden
noon shadow only my feet and the cat
Lucia Cardillo
sinking into piped music delayed flight
Madhuri Pillai
frost the weight i didn’t know i was carrying
Marcie Wessels
invitation to write one-line haiku bag of potato chips
Margaret Fisher Squires
a smidge of this a dash of that used cookbook
Margaret Walker
little by little mayflies zigzagzigging
Marianne Paul
winter soup the swoop and dip of spoons
Marietta McGregor
river’s edge all ducklings in a row
Marilyn Ashbaugh
praying mantis looking the other way
Marilyn Ashbaugh
lucid dreaming wild-eyed pansies glancing back and forth
Mary Kendall
tangy lemon tart the child I was
Maya Daneva
a car alarm my raspy breath flowers for your grave
Michael Flanagan
love all his tennis whites as immaculate as ever
Michael Gallagher
done meditating the Buddha statue winks
Michael G. Smith
beachcombing every shell inhabited
Mimi Foyle
tulips my heart opens first
Mirela Brailean
love letters the different smell of each lie
Mirela Brailean
a pile of stones black teacups mended with gold epoxy
Miriam Sagan
a peacock’s relentless cry your long absence
Neena Singh
hummingbird in the mist seen unseen seen
Neena Singh
mountaintop almost there almost there
Pat Davis
feathers fly fresh seed in the feeder
Paul Beech
another rejection a soap bubble pops
Paul Callus
his touch my throat tightens
Pris Campbell
orange blossoms the taste of morning drizzle
Richard L. Matta
aloha plumeria the scent of her blouse
Richard L. Matta
closing in on 68 the field mouse I am
Robert Epstein
interpreter signs my pause
Roberta Beach Jacobson
s n a i l
Roberta Beach Jacobson
sweet memory my favorite doll belonged to my sister
Rosa Clement
a question posed between night-blooming jasmine
Seretta Martin
in the ocean starfish in starlight
Seretta Martin
happy hour drinks at the birdbath
Susan Burch
her tiny fingers trace the soft blue veins of grandma’s hand
Teresa Yatsko
clear morning slipping on my rose quartz bracelet
Theresa A. Cancro
oh how easily i soak up the folds of a primrose
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
intimacy like the way freesia exhales
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
dried spearmint steeping tea new mint greens a patch nearby
Tina Wright
oh no the last short story so i read it real slow
Tina Wright
the news my need to just keep walking
Tom Clausen
puddle portal where does it all go
Tom Clausen
spring cleaning a violet in mother’s old herbarium
Vibeke Laier
after funeral moon fills the empty mirror
Vibeke Laier
teacher’s funeral between loved ones the worst student
Wieslaw Karlinski
snow melt fills the creek skipping stones
Wilda Morris
somewhere in the catskill mountains a tree i once loved
Zee Zahava
Sunday, May 1, 2022
drinkable haiku
Welcome to the May 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
The theme for this month’s collection is “drinkable haiku.”
Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Pakistan, Philippines, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the United Kingdom, and the United States
farmwork done
drinking palm wine amid
the bustle of late bees
Adjei Agyei-Baah
collecting dewdrops
for grandmother’s tea
a chinese fable
ai li
even toddlers
suck on cooled blueberry juice
now on lips and tongue
Alan Bern
who knows
how many drinks
two moons
Alan Peat
cherry brandy hangover the spring in my step
Alan Summers
hot tea in a cold cup winter
Alexis Rotella
juice stand —
the only nature spot
at the mall
Ana Drobot
apple juice —
I look out the window
to search for the moon
Angiola Inglese
soda pop
a toddler giggles
at the bubbles
Barbara Kaufmann
he flirts
over coffee —
the empty sugar bowl
Barbara Sabol
sun tea
the time it takes
to kiss you
Barrie Levine
into an old tin cup
a pristine trickle
of pineland water
Bill Waters
monsoon rains
a drop of honey
in the ginger tea
Billy Antonio
mom’s grin as i
gulp her “Pepsi” —
yuck! black coffee
Blue Waters
draining the dregs
of yesterday’s coffee
writer’s block
Bryan Cook
rum bottle
nearing the end
his long story
Bryan Rickert
this green cup filled with
cocoa and three hot spices
smoothing out the day
C. Robin Janning
strawberry wine —
the girl I was
the woman I am
Carole MacRury
rings from our beer glasses nothing left to say
Charles Trumbull
the end
of the old monk’s chanting
tea time for one
Chen-ou Liu
granadilla
in iced fruit juice
rustling palm
Christina Chin
emerging
from my oolong tea
old ghosts
Christina Sng
chrysanthemum tea
slowly sipping
the sunlight
Christine L. Villa
the bright side
a chocolate milk shake
after the dentist
Claire Vogel Camargo
we harvest
a chunk of chaga for tea . . .
vacant bear den
Debbie Strange
bourbon - sugar - bitters
grandpa says his old-fashioned
beats the heat
Deborah Burke Henderson
mimosas
on the front porch swing
orange blossoms
Deborah P Kolodji
rose water drink
getting younger
with every cup
Elena Malec
chilly night
the moon’s tremor
in my tea
Florin C. Ciobica
wedding anniversary
a smoothie blended
with honeysuckle
Geoff Pope
end of Ramadan
adding more ice
to the red sharbat
Hifsa Ashraf
parting ways
the last sweet taste
of plum wine
Jackie Chou
pandemic to endemic
a champagne toast
to making it through
Jay Friedenberg
growing up . . .
with dill pickles
and Coca-Cola
Jill Lange
wine glass in hand
a familiar face at the bar
oops, that’s a mirror
Jim Mazza
summer picnic
lips sticky
with cherry kool-aid
Jo Balistreri
my dad’s drugstore
syrup in soda water —
so many flavors!
Joan Leotta
a secret spilled
stirring the stock
sharing a spoon
Joanna Ashwell
summer ritual
mango juice down my elbow
onto my t-shirt
Joe Sebastian
in less worried times
a long-handled bamboo cup
water from the shrine
Joel Savishinsky
the poet’s reading
more passionate after
his third espresso
John J. Dunphy
by the light of the salt lamp —
drops of red wine
on grandmother’s tablecloth
Julia Guzman
cinnamon protein shakes
my kids refuse to drink . . .
the breakfasts of mothers
Julie Bloss Kelsey
mulled wine thinking it over
Karen Harvey
lip to lip
our shared
frappuccino
Kath Abela Wilson
one strong rum cocktail
one daughter, one Scrabble game
Mother’s Day love fest
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
pomegranate juice
my preference
over wine
kris moon
waterfront bar
choosing a cocktail
made with cucumbers
Kristen Lindquist
watermelon sky
pink ice cubes rattling
in the bubbles
Lakshmi Iyer
now i’m here
in my body again
ginger brandy
Laurinda Lind
firewater
we toast
the Yosemite sunset
Lorraine A Padden
the cake laced with brandy her louder than usual singalong voice
Madhuri Pillai
the only time
dad had a mustache
root beer float
Marcie Wessels
sippin’ southern comfort
childhood cure
for the croup
Margaret Walker
drive-thru poetry
iced toasted vanilla oat
shaken espresso
Marianne Paul
Aperol spritz
the way her hair
traps a sunbeam
Marietta McGregor
red dust tang
sharing the drover’s
waterbag
Marilyn Humbert
a county fair
my homemade cider
loses its fizz
Marta Chocilowska
swirling the bitter
remnant of one last pint
remembering you
Michael Flanagan
toothache
scent of cloves
and whiskey
Michael Gallagher
drinking from the same stream
as the grizzly bear
I put on my brave face
Michael G. Smith
traveling days . . .
I sip water
from a fresh coconut
Milan Rajkumar
made by a neighbor
to celebrate our son’s birth
home-brewed ginger beer
Mimi Foyle
hummingbirds —
my niece asks for
a drinking straw
Mirela Brailean
bitter-sweet drink
sun-kissed kumquats
quench my thirst
Neena Singh
daddy’s wink
a teaspoon of wine
in my Kool-Aid
Pat Davis
recovering now —
a steaming mug
of mum’s beef-tea
Paul Beech
first business venture lemonade TEN CENTS
Pris Campbell
our morning tea
the nettles infused
with silence
Richard L. Matta
along the creek
in one big gulp
my favorite mountain
Robert Epstein
heading south tea getting sweeter
Roberta Beach Jacobson
drink of water
from the garden hose
work half done
Ron Scully
coffee shop
I pay for a heart
in my cappuccino
Rosa Clement
lamp low
over melted cheese and wine
your language on my tongue
Ruth Yarrow
the morning after
three bloody marys open
six heavy eyelids
Stacey Murphy
(whiskey) things between us (sour)
Susan Burch
sitting on my heels
in the Japanese inn
a cup of sake
Theresa A. Cancro
fruit punch gatorade
only tastes good when i am
dehydrated bad
Tina Wright
in training
I try another
non-alcoholic beer
Tom Clausen
seems like yesterday
the kitten drinking milk
in my childhood garden
Vibeke Laier
milky way
it stopped for a moment
in my glass of tea
Wieslaw Karlinski
hot cocoa
with marshmallows —
the children wishing for snow
Wilda Morris
farmer’s market tonic
ginger, cider, cayenne —
I drink from a spoon
Yvonne Fisher
giggling with cousins
ginger ale poured into
the orange juice
Zee Zahava
Friday, April 1, 2022
haiku happiness
Welcome to the April 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
This month’s collection focuses on Things That Make Us Happy … small things, major things, long ago memories, and current moments.
Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States
Wishing you a sense of peace and happiness as you read the following haiku . . . .
lakeside
breaking bread
with fishes
Adjei Agyei-Baah
i have breath this morning
ai li
at the cafe table
a woman and a small girl
mouth I LOVE YOU
Alan Bern
a mayfly
i breathe in the sky
for my moment
Alan Peat
adjusting the reading lamp buried in the snow forests of Narnia
Alan Summers
aunt’s lipstick print
on my cheek
I wear it to school
Alexis Rotella
under a tree
with birdsong
and a good book
Angela Giordano
clear sky beyond the roses the moon
Angiola Inglese
warm sun . . . i circle the old pear tree
Ann Carter
simple life
the vase is content
without flowers
Barbara Sabol
sabbath candles
my mother’s hands
gathering gold
Barrie Levine
as soon as the pond ice melts . . . peepers
Blue Waters
beach day
visiting the four corners
of my towel
Brad Bennett
beachcombing
the sudden glint
of ruby sea glass
Bryan D. Cook
birthday cake
the slice I eat
when everyone’s gone
Bryan Rickert
after breakfast
pairing this rock and that plant
time passes quickly
C. Robin Janning
party game —
popping
bubble wrap
Carol Judkins
crayons
waxy smell of a new
box of colors
Carole Johnston
alone time —
music replaces
the day’s noise
Carole MacRury
pounding heart
I land at the airport
of her city
Chen Xiaoou
summer breeze
my daughter dances to the rhythm
of rainbow bubbles
Chen-ou Liu
spring hammock
baby and I play
peekaboo
Christina Chin
great sky dreams on birds’ wings
Christina Martin
duvet
feeling safe
again
Christina Sng
the space
between you and me . . .
warmth of a dog
Christine L. Villa
whistling winds
our howls of laughter
telling jokes
Claire Vogel Camargo
outdoor cinema —
for a moment the flash
of a shooting star
Dan Iulian
sand furrows
new guitar strings imprint
my fingertips
Debbie Strange
slicing the apple
at its equator . . .
stargazing
Deborah Burke Henderson
campfire
after the hayride
marshmallows
Deborah P Kolodji
sharing a straw
in a bottle of Boom Boom Lemon
dream of Kyoto
Donna Fleischer
ocean cliff —
fastened to the fence
lovers’ locks
Elena Calvo
night fishing
listening to the music
of the Milky Way
Florin C. Ciobica
deep in the forest
surrounded by stillness
only a heartbeat
Frank Muller
catching the sun
the brilliant green
of a jewel bug
Geethanjali Rajan
89th birthday
my mom’s smile
when I walk in
Geoff Pope
twilight stroll . . .
exchanging smiles
the Ramadan moon and I
Hifsa Ashraf
morning cocoa
the sweet taste of
melting marshmallows
Jackie Chou
distant thunder —
bee balm trembling
in the breeze
Janice Doppler
final ascent
a sunrise reward
from the mountain’s top
Jay Friedenberg
time in a hammock watching the garden grow
Jill Lange
unknown phone number
probably a scam call —
no, a long-lost friend
Jim Mazza
my husband walks by
pausing to give
my shoulder a light caress
Joan Leotta
easing myself
inside a groove
of snow-drift stars
Joanna Ashwell
high desert fossils
asleep in ancient sea beds
I walk with oysters
Joel Savishinsky
sticky coins
I get change at
a child’s lemonade stand
John J. Dunphy
lunch on the patio
a cicada sings
the entire time
Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi
the slow movement
of clouds . . .
poppy fields
Julia Guzman
almost to South Dakota —
the excitement
of a blue barn
Julie Bloss Kelsey
one night
on the Gulf of Aqaba
the softest kiss
Karla Linn Merrifield
how jacarandas know
it’s jolly well time
to paint the world purple
Kath Abela Wilson
dune’s grassy hillocks
a few sea oats and my hands
scribbling at sunset
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
short day long nap
this old woman and
her old cat
kris moon
meteor shower
the night air thick
with wishes
Kristen Lindquist
high summer
all the raw mangoes
under our beds
Lakshmi Iyer
deep boom the ice lets go of the lake
Laurinda Lind
watermelon seeds
my son’s invention
of orbital patterns
Lorraine A Padden
the path to the country house . . . roses
Lucia Cardillo
after the heat
the relief . . .
petrichor
Madhuri Pillai
temporary lodging
sleeping with a pillow
from home
Marcie Wessels
half asleep my feet buried in the sand
Margaret Walker
sunshower
the kitchen window
open to freesias
Marietta McGregor
spring snow
baking bread
for the smell of it
Marilyn Ashbaugh
at midnight
the grandkids tell me
each star’s name
Marilyn Humbert
back home
all the roadside puddles
explored
Marta Chocilowska
a bit unkempt
this cottage garden
my inner life
Mary Kendall
lemon blossom
in my tea cup . . .
our first breakfast outdoors
Maya Daneva
the instructor asks
why are you here . . . I answer
tai chi makes me happy
Michael Flanagan
blazing sun
my father’s shadow
for shelter
Michael Gallagher
a walk in the woods
we toast her
first published poem
Michael G. Smith
homecoming —
gulmohar flowers greet me
at the village gate
Milan Rajkumar
laughing together
catching up on adventures
best friend on the phone
Mimi Foyle
my open notebook
the gentle breeze
brings a few petals
Mirela Brailean
I’d steal it
if I could — this view
of plum blossoms
Miriam Sagan
sharing breakfast
with a squirrel
rock doves coo
Neena Singh
shell collection
re-arranging
summers
Pat Davis
the estuary below
glints in the sun —
I read Basho
Paul Beech
running commentary —
sitting on my broad shoulders
my granddaughter
Paul Callus
sunrise
the second sunflower
in bloom next door
Pris Campbell
monarchs
chasing monarchs chasing
kids playing tag
Richard Matta
morning hike
becoming part of
the desert
Roberta Beach Jacobson
sunny day
a wasp tastes
everyone’s beer
Rosa Clement
sunrise through mist
my nose pulls lemon sweetness
from the yellow iris
Ruth Yarrow
lemon sorbet
summer at the tip
of my tongue
Sherry Grant
sharing
my good news
trumpet daffodil
Susan Burch
dad plants flowers
i pat down the earth
tucking them in
Teresa Bakota Yatsko
bedroom oasis . . .
playing finger cymbals
by candlelight
Theresa A. Cancro
watching a swamp muskrat
sharpen her teeth on a stick
before eating
Tina Wright
fedoras cool again taking selfies
Tom Bierovic
my playlist . . .
every one of the thousand
songs on shuffle
Tom Clausen
rough seas
you anchor
me
Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
between
heaven and earth
the smell of sunflowers
Vibeke Laier
cousin reunion
I unearth
new old family secrets
Wilda Morris
safely home
a cup of tea . . .
this is my life now
Yvonne Fisher
jumping waves
laughing so hard
i swallow the ocean
Zee Zahava
Tuesday, March 1, 2022
a haiku celebration of women and girls
Welcome to the March 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal
Contributing poets are from Australia, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, India, Italy, Malaysia, Malta, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the United Kingdom, and the United States
mother staying up
all night
when i was ill
ai li
around my wife a bright corona of burnt orange sunset
Alan Bern
grey hair and tie dye
fending off the present
with her fondue fork
Alan Peat
in dialect
grandma speaks to
her peonies
Alexis Rotella
a few days in May
the scent of roses —
I think of my mother
Angiola Inglese
carolina jasmine climbing a fence my mother’s gift
Ann Carter
water baby
my daughter runs toward
her first view of ocean waves
Antonia Matthew
spring equinox
my granddaughter and I
start our seeds
Barbara Kaufmann
perfectly seasoned
cabbage soup –
mom’s wooden spoon
Barbara Sabol
rose and jasmine
the scent of my aunts
in their names
Barrie Levine
hunkered in the sand
my granddaughter builds castles
for hermit crabs
Bryan Cook
polio survivor
mother says covid
won’t get her either
Bryan Rickert
writing together
twelve women calling on
the muses
Carole Johnston
granddaughter . . .
like mom and myself
sleeping in silk
Carole MacRury
sunlit lake
my niece jumps into the sound
of laughter
Chen-ou Liu
first lipstick
afraid to lick
my lips
Christina Chin
grandma chuckles
over the worm in the lettuce —
more protein
Christina Martin
beach day
my daughter picks
a seashell for me
Christina Sng
discovering my
poetry muse in the shower
midlife rescue
Claire Vogel Camargo
first kiss —
she tells me about
global warming
Dan Iulian
ice road
I weave blue ribbons
through mom’s hair
Debbie Strange
deep freeze —
nana warms my small face
with her hands
Deborah Burke Henderson
my teenage mother
the year she delivered mail
by horseback
Deborah P Kolodji
ice skating
our friendship bonded
with broken bones
Elena Calvo
spring fever
my mother puts on
a green dress
Florin C. Ciobica
backyard ballerina . . .
I’m Margot Fonteyn
showered with petals
Helen Buckingham
white peony
the subtlety
of my self-image
Hifsa Ashraf
sisters in pajamas
reading a fairy tale
— missing our mom
Janice Doppler
in 10th grade
the quiet teacher shares
haiku and Thoreau
Jill Lange
mom’s junk mail protest
postage-paid return envelopes
ten pounds of rice
Jim Mazza
hands of twenty women
palming drumskins for Ukraine
our shared heartbeats
Jo Balistreri
grandmother’s coats
now a quilt
protects me against the cold
Joan Leotta
believing
in my own magic . . .
drumming
Joanna Ashwell
a doll house a stage
she glues grass for her toy deer
makes its habitat
Joel Savishinsky
VFW post
its new commander stands tall
on her prosthetic legs
John J. Dunphy
Sunday services —
my daughter’s pink plastic ring
in the offertory
Julie Bloss Kelsey
a shoulder to cry on
wishing she were my mom . . .
aunty Jean
Karen Harvey
her wish for peace
my mother’s letters
to world leaders
Kath Abela Wilson
proud grandma
flexes her biceps
big as grandpap’s
Kathleen Kramer
all my ancestors
women birthing more women
an unbroken chain
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
independence day
my tween niece signs her name
with a sparkler
Kristen Lindquist
family album
great-grandmother
in a pink nightgown
Lakshmi Iyer
our playground
baseball star
my teacher nun
Laurinda Lind
RBG
the outspoken pattern
of a lace collar
Lorraine Padden
the sky is the limit . . .
I repeat mother’s words
to my daughter
Madhuri Pillai
breakfast
with my favorite aunt
Coke in glass bottles
Marcie Wessels
grandmama’s feedsack apron pockets of love
Margaret Walker
white handkerchiefs
the mothers and grandmothers
who never give up
Marianne Paul
the steadiness
of mother’s hand
first carousel ride
Marietta McGregor
riverside amble . . .
teaching my daughter
which herbs to pick
Marilyn Humbert
mom’s cookbook
the stained pages
take me back
Marta Chocilowska
snapshots
between eighteen and seventy
her constant smile
Michael Flanagan
first born —
we name our daughter
Rani, the queen
Milan Rajkumar
my grown-up daughter
fearless and vulnerable
as a wildflower
Mimi Foyle
turning 60 . . .
i feel more like ten
six-year-olds
Mirela Brailean
mother-in-law
the gap in her teeth
filled with light
Neena Singh
homemade dress
mama called it
custom-fit
Pat Davis
tending tomatoes
Gran relives her mill town youth
a lass on a loom
Paul Beech
Wilma Rudolph
the wind recalls in awe
her dash to fame
Paul Callus
never any gossip
or unkind words
my friend’s funeral
Pris Campbell
scenting the day
her scribbled notes
in my lunch box
Richard L. Matta
85th birthday —
almost all Mom’s potted plants
still in bloom
Robert Epstein
reminding me
of my femininity
Georgia O’Keeffe
Roberta Beach Jacobson
shooing the toddler
out of the abandoned mine —
halo of her hair
Ruth Yarrow
my old teacher
her death
a cello string snaps
Sherry Grant
my no cancer trophy a mammogrammy
Susan Burch
her hands create words
my sister unites
the deaf and the hearing world
Teresa Bakota Yatsko
warm meteorite . . .
grandma pockets
a star
Theresa A. Cancro
itself enough for
a family party
sister sally’s lasagna
Tina Wright
ninety years
each of Granny’s cocker spaniels
named “Honey”
Tom Clausen
sisters resting under
a cherry blossom tree
no need for words
Vibeke Laier
echo of Mother’s voice
in the kitchen
singing Back in the Hills
Wilda Morris
my sweetheart places
each flower in the vase
another act of love
Zee Zahava
Tuesday, February 1, 2022
one-line haiku
Welcome to the February 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
This month there is no particular theme. Each poem is just one line long (or even a single word!) . . . revealing meaning and depth in a deceptively simple form.
Contributing poets are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States
tracing the snail’s trail moonlight
Adjei Agyei-Baah
the night air menu of roasted chestnuts
ai li
backing up on the car roof a cat
Alan Bern
rain spills into darkness now and then snow
Alan Peat
overgrown driveway the butterflies hold a fashion show
Alan Summers
shape of grandma rising dough
Alexis Rotella
in my pockets grains of sand from last year
Angela Giordano
moonlight on my hand a mantis
Angiola Inglese
black wheelbarrow balanced on its front edge to teach me a lesson
Ann Carter
small joys woodpeckers at the suet feeder again
Antonia Matthew
socked in for another day brain fog
Barbara Kaufmann
rearview mirror the homestead comes into focus
Barbara Sabol
shaking the down quilt out flies the mad cat
Barrie Levine
big heads on skinny necks tulips quietly defying gravity
Blue Waters
the bench’s shadow empty too
Brad Bennett
house move zen garden in sandbags
Bryan D. Cook
shrinking on a stone the crab-shaped wet spot
Bryan Rickert
brother’s birthday today I search for the moon
C. Robin Janning
whiteout the universe inside me
Carole MacRury
again and again wild strawberries
Caroline Skanne
his aloha shirt my migraine
Charles Trumbull
cuttlefish threatened collecting some ink
Chen Xiaoou
blizzardalonetogetherduringrushhour
Chen-ou Liu
the hand pump water trickles first poem
Christina Chin
desperate birdsong news just in
Christina Martin
dusty old diaries half-lost memories
Christina Sng
clothespin holding on to nothing
Christine L. Villa
broken shell the sting of each wave
Claire Vogel Camargo
starless night at a single window the insomniac light bulb
Dan Iulian
driving back home sweet chili chips
Daniela Misso
winds of change i take refuge inside myself
Debbie Strange
bees white iris wraps their wings in nightfall
Deborah Burke Henderson
winter wind weeds lean
Donna Fleischer
playing tennis the back and forth in my mind
Elena Calvo
mayflies rise at dusk last dance
Frank Muller
birthday hug grandma’s peppermint breath
Geethanjali Rajan
wobbling on one foot I tug on the other slipper
Glenn Ingersoll
scarecity
Helen Buckingham
social exclusion growing on the tree lichen
Hifsa Ashraf
timing my dash to a soft-boiled egg
Jack Goldman
what it takes to bend me bamboo
Jackie Chou
lonely day i get a call from a robot
Jay Friedenberg
snow falling all day long
Jill Lange
a long winter suddenly shorter violets in the snow
Jim Mazza
ill but not ill enough surgery delayed
Joan Leotta
escalator back and forth between us
Joanna Ashwell
a curled strand of her hair on my pillow crescent moon
Joe Sebastian
my granddaughter wears her cat as if it were a shawl
Joel Savishinksy
even the junk store’s sign cobwebbed
John J. Dunphy
never the same dance twice breakwater
Julie Bloss Kelsey
the beveled mirror of loneliness
Karla Linn Merrifield
ancient salt ponds on mars our mother’s tears
Kath Abela Wilson
new roof i miss the moss
Kathleen Kramer
two years from eighty a weighty birthday
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
night walk startled by the whiteness of a moth
kris moon
off in their own little world apple buds
Kristen Lindquist
dreaming on my own paperboat I sail
Lakshmi Iyer
ten thousand years the lake misses its glacier
Laurinda Lind
droplets of smudged sky Monet lilies
Lorraine A Padden
waking up the reflection in the mirror looks like my mother
Lucia Cardillo
not letting a word in cicadas
Madhuri Pillai
legos all her family together
Margaret Walker
seagullsssssskimmmmmmmingblueskyclouds
Marianne Paul
sliding into sea sliding into sea sliding
Marietta McGregor
more gulls than sea ebb tide
Marilyn Ashbaugh
river canyon swarm of swallows swoop from its mouth
Marilyn Fleming
blind-sided the silent swoop of nesting magpies
Marilyn Humbert
reflected light in the broken pane a spiderweb
Marta Chocilowska
saving face a little black mask with or without pearls
Mary Kendall
my hair whiter one snowflake at a time
Maya Daneva
a furry Buddha in fresh snow hobo cat greets the sun
Michael Flanagan
polite words of lost friendship
Michael Gallagher
car in the shop another book read
Michael G. Smith
long journey steamy windows introspection
Mimi Foyle
children’s room I rearrange memories
Mirela Brailean
dropping pebbles from the footbridge my daughter’s daughter
Miriam Sagan
raindrops raindrops raindrops worm raindrops raindrops
Nancy Shires
perch for the robin’s song snowman’s hat
Neena Singh
a corsage for myself just because
Pat Davis
cracked bindings a bibliophile’s sneeze
Paul Beech
bottom of the ravine my eyes swim upstream
Paul Callus
white swan somewhere a ballerina is missing
Pris Campbell
after party the lingering polite words
Richard L. Matta
visiting for the smell overstocked bookshop
Robert Epstein
waiting room reading the back of the sugar packet
Rosa Clement
nursing home forced forsythia
Ruth Yarrow
brushing snow from the day’s mail catalogs showing bathing suits
Sue Norvell
making googly eyes at him pet rock
Susan Burch
writing at dawn the shadow of my pencil on the blue-lined page
Teresa Yatsko
a fly trapped in revolving doors morning rush
Theresa A. Cancro
oh i have been the untamed river
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
comforting sight crows congregating in the winter oak
Tina Wright
shoe box or fireplace love letters
Tom Bierovic
a lucky penny where it landed
Tom Clausen
moon meditation in dreams the small stars grow
Vibeke Laier
after many years the wider shadow of the olive tree
Wieslaw Karlinski
in the apple tree picking our favorite branches
Wilda Morris
she turns the fan to face me this small act of tenderness
Zee Zahava
Saturday, January 1, 2022
morning haiku — from sunrise to noon
Welcome to the January 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
The theme this month is morning.
Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States
first bee
rolling dew
out of a flower
Adjei Agyei-Baah
that time of morning
when a biscuit
calls
ai li
a quiet morning
like all other mornings
in this wounding time
Alan Bern
dawn walk
the deer and i
equally startled
Alan Peat
Christmas morning
the cats wrap themselves
in ribbons
Alexis Rotella
morning
same clouds
as yesterday
Ana Drobot
dawn’s embrace just me and the last star
Angela Giordano
sun in my eyes
a rose opens
clothes are hanging on the line
Angiola Inglese
morning . . . the baby still hungry
I don’t look
in the bathroom mirror
Antonia Matthew
post-op walk
clouds take all morning
to cross the sky
Barbara Kaufmann
sunrise
coyote collects
his shadow
Barbara Sabol
Kokopelli
playing his flute
to the rising sun
Barbara Tate
morning chill
but i won’t turn up the heat
channeling dad
Barrie Levine
New Year’s Day —
the sun sleeps late
too
Bill Waters
once again
early morning dares to interrupt
my deepest sleep
Blue Waters
morning forecast
a blue jay feather
on the front stoop
Brad Bennett
morning dreams
interrupted
mourning doves
Bryan D. Cook
morning grey
dried to the spoon
an old teabag
Bryan Rickert
driving backroads
in the morning rain
all is calm
C. Robin Janning
what luck
these collards on the stove
new year’s morn
C.R. Harper
first light
pristine snow
on the path
Carol Judkins
solstice dawn
the first thing I read
haiku
Carole Johnston
feeling my age —
even before breakfast
I check the obits
Carole MacRury
dawn stirring sparrows
Caroline Skanne
the storm continues
I finish the whole pot
by noon
Charles Trumbull
snow geese
unzip the morning sky
my journey starts
Chen-ou Liu
dim sum breakfast
at the steamy table
small talk
Christina Chin
dark morning
still deeply steeped
in nightmares
Christina Sng
morning walk
feeling as relaxed
as a wet noodle
Claire Vogel Camargo
spider at dawn
builds
a wireless network
Dan Iulian
morning coffee —
my haiku mind
percolates
Deborah Burke Henderson
morning roar
of the juicer
winter oranges
Deborah P Kolodji
winter morning
a warm breath
on the orchid
Donna Fleischer
morning mist . . .
mom doesn’t remember
dad’s name
Florin C. Ciobica
morning tea —
sharing the verandah
with a ring-necked parrot
Geethanjali Rajan
slow morning
the steady hum
from the cast iron kettle
Hifsa Ashraf
first scribbles
in my new journal
morning bird songs
Jackie Chou
sixteen eyes
staring as I wake —
her stuffed animals
Janice Doppler
dawn light . . . each dune . . . slowly shape shifting
Jay Friedenberg
this morning too
mama dancing
with Frank Sinatra
Jill Lange
morning alarm clock
reset three times
then unplugged
Jim Mazza
fly fishing
at dawn in Montana
still outwitted by bass
Jo Balistreri
morning sun
reveals a gold ring
lost on last night’s walk
Joan Leotta
blown back
my evening prayer
repeated in morning light
Joanna Ashwell
e-subscription
my dog still searches for
the morning newspaper
John J. Dunphy
morning flowers
and the wavy shadow
of a centipede
Jorge Giallorenzi
morning video call —
mum asks me
to come back soon
Julia Guzman
early wake up call
the rooster
who lives next door
Kath Abela Wilson
my mug for morning tea
sports a spotted hen . . .
i call her dottie
Kathleen Kramer
cold foggy morning
only the geraniums
give my world color
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
grey morning
if only our paths
would cross again
kris moon
white dawn
a poem writes itself
in my head
Kristen Lindquist
morning . . .
i release the night
from my breath
Lakshmi Iyer
enough early sun
to make the ice lawn
look like quartz
Laurinda Lind
dew anoints a headstone angel
Lorraine A. Padden
mid morning
an eagle glides
around my lethargy
Madhuri Pillai
morning rush
make-up
at the red light
Margaret Walker
lotus opening
the sequence of my
sun salutation
Marilyn Fleming
eucalypt canopy
a koala stretches its paw
towards morning sun
Marilyn Humbert
sunny morning
the snowman loosens
his scarf
Marta Chocilowska
cars awash
with cherry blossoms . . .
first light
Mary Kendall
even the chipped mug
looks beautiful
this rainy morning
Maya Daneva
in the snow
and silence of the morning
a black cat tiptoes
Michael Flanagan
early morning the ambling magic of mushrooms
Michael Gallagher
slow rising sun
I beat the birds
to the feeders
Michael G. Smith
i walk with doughnuts
into an orange sunrise
vivid as wildfire
Mimi Foyle
blackbird’s song begins with the sun’s first rays
Mirela Brailean
early morning reading the Torah no bees yet in the bee balm
Miriam Sagan
breakfast surprise
the wren and i
face to face
Nancy Shires
morning ritual
brewing basil tea
a haiku bubbles
Neena Singh
old postman
my morning mail
and a tip of his hat
Pat Davis
crime fiction my perfect start to the day
Paul Beech
hungry eyes
four feral cats pace waiting
for breakfast
Pris Campbell
street fish market
the salty taste
of morning traffic
Richard L. Matta
sunny morning
I lose my shadow
in the grove
Rosa Clement
morning fog
the screech of
bus tyres
Sherry Grant
morning lurches on
the cat remains unconvinced
of most ideas
Stacey Murphy
stunning red sunrise
forecast of coming snowfall
please . . . some deep, deep drifts
Sue Norvell
black crow caw-cawing
the only thing between me
and a morning nap
Teresa Yatsko
blueberries tumbling in the colander my morning plans
Theresa A. Cancro
morning clouds
i pull the night
back into my bones
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
winter milking
popping outside a minute
to see the rising sun
Tina Wright
sunrise
one stone buddha blinks
to another
Tom Clausen
quiet morning
a scarecrow greets
the farmer
Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
this little crack
to let morning light into
my favourite poem
Vibeke Laier
last dawn
at the hospital window
jasmine blooms
Wieslaw Karlinski
stirring oatmeal for us kids
dad remembers
cooking for the troops
Wilda Morris
another gray morning
walking for miles
searching for the sun
Yvonne Fisher
early morning walk
meeting a squirrel
with a great sense of humor
Zee Zahava
milkshake
for breakfast
bananas everywhere
Zoe Grant