Monday, September 1, 2014

One-Line Haiku

Welcome to the September issue of brass bell: a haiku journal. This month there is no particular theme but each poem is just one line in length — there is great beauty and depth in this deceptively simple form.

You will find work here by 76 contributors, from Australia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Canada, Denmark, England, France, India, Poland, Romania, Scotland, Spain, and The United States.

Ajaya Mahala

shifting of sand dunes noise in moonlight

fainter and fainter bicycle riders and moon distancing

no love moisture-proof cell phone kiss

Alan Catlin

in dream garden sand falling instead of rain

sleeping on straw mats wind riffles rice paper walls

faded plastic grave side flowers artificial grief

between snow storms moon shadows layers of lost light 

Alan Summers

after rain midnight dreams a hedgehog

Gare du Nord shifting art deco snow

lonely stars pushing the envelope for a trace of moon

blues change the colour rain

An Mayou

how to start a river a sigh without an end

a shower of giggles her curly hair

thunder moon over open road the same song over again

Anisoara Iordache

eating melons on the road no matter who passes by

Angelee Deodhar

citronella candle still the distant buzz of mosquitoes

walking on clouds rain pools become the sky

prom night       waiting     wanting     waiting

Angelo B. Ancheta

super moon face to face with my fears

monsoon moon finding meaning in between

Anna Goluba

waiting room becomes our whole world

raining my watch still says the same hour

hesitation another train leaves without me

between one incarnation and another the little butterfly

Antonia Matthew

despite white dogwood blossoms my heart is grey

empty cicada shell still clings to sedum stalk

too busy to see what I miss

grey day I draw the Fool

Archana Kapoor Nagpal

falling rain still my paper boat sails over the moon

Arvinder Kaur

among thousands of leaves my loneliness

showing through glass splinters a bit of me

selfie    opting for the fade option

ayaz daryl nielsen

autumn hovers   summer's grey hair

fireflies!   a forgotten dream

embarrassed  our hammock   gossips


Barbara Kaufmann

as if the sky fell the blue in his eyes

big bang pink cosmos opening

lavender scented garden my grandmother's arms

noisy blackbird flying into an afternoon nap

Barbara Tate
a snail with no shell   my broken toe

drought  the only sound  a cottonwood crying

laugh lines   I trace a map to the past

act three   I can't always be who I am

Ben Mitchell

lilacs the color of twilight

warm tea my hands fold around her face

Bozidar Skobic 
internet connects distant people but not the neighbors

this physical work is my relaxation a new haiku

Candi Cooper-Towler

working late crescent moon balancing Mars on her head

windswept beach  voices escape  the smell of seaweed

old photos that horse is gone but I still have the saddle

silver rain a moment's sun on this stormy day 

Carl Seguiban

red leaves rein in the blues autumn sky

Carole Johnston

into morning mist dog and I

blue butterfly hovers above her shadow our last day

moonbops upstreet neighborhood bluesband

Carolyn Coit Dancy

talking a blue streak runningtheredlight

through the screen door a cat's meow and lilacs

all the way to city limits tiger lilies

amorphous clouds coloring outside the lines   

Catherine Rigutto

prisoner of the wind the old paper seeks freedom

sea breeze the beach umbrella fights for dignity

Cezar-Florin Ciobica

spring rain  her ring  loose

all that I need a fragrant wind


Charles Trumbull

she slips off her shift   pears in bloom

the quiet of cows in the rain

not-quite-full moon this night of yearning

Chen-ou Liu

summer moonlight on my cheek a lock of her hair

nightingale song flowing down the river thoughts of my ex

hercat mydog resting side by side herbackmyback

Daniela Lacramioara Capota

early morning on the same way we’re sharing the silence

after storm full moon hanging in the cactus flower

Debbie Strange

deserted beach a fading bouquet of rental canoes

i make a wish for one more summer thistledown

the sea sets the sun adrift into darkness

Mt. Everest the way your bones shoulder sky

Diana Petkova

how low is the mountain after a night of snow

the dreams between sunset and sunrise

a small world surrounded by mountains

Diana Teneva

mist only children’s voices in the park

arm in arm even in their sleep chestnut morning

first kiss the world is not the same 

Frank Judge

the dates on Dad's gravestone what matters is the hyphen

meeting in Paris after months apart your kisses taste different

Gergana Yaninska

full moon the wolf pack rehearsing

a quarrel the turkeys are hungry

Helen Buckingham 

dawn the long step from my desk to my bed

goths mouth Keats among the bulldozers

sheep      sheep      security light

a  t  l  a  s  t  h  e  s  u  n   

Isabella Loverro

a bucket full of wildflowers at my door

cooing morning doves brighten my day

crickets find their song in the stillness of night

Jayashree Maniyil

scent of jasmine weaves through my false hair

one by one the cygnets land rippling the sky

the train behind the light behind the morning mist

Jennifer Groff

possibility dwells in the sliver of day before light breaks

perched on shifting sand a one-legged gull waiting for the right wind

restless night lit up with the big fat crying baby moon

Jim Kacian

somewhere becoming rain becoming somewhere

my hometown still in the small hours

the wide west mile after mile of wavelength

the crickets stop chirping that much dawn

Joan McNerney 

at road’s end the sun waits for us

rain spills like long black ink stains

March quietly turns emerald green

reading the calligraphy of oceans

Joann Grisetti

muddy blues the high notes drift upriver

stars their impact on the river

drowning in Tuesday sunshine a bee on the daisy

round trip the same bird chatter

Johannes S. H. Bjerg

among other dust motes I flutter in your wind

back home where the rain falls half a moon

where I remember the Seine was the Seine on a photo

John Kinory

insomnia I develop an allergy to middle C

in the junkshop bin a photo of someone I knew

seawall the wind presses us together

John McDonald

goslings pass by in their feather boats

March winds bending the old man

heron hunched in a net of shadows

John McManus

stalking through the forest my grandfather's last words

untouched the hills begin a new song

rain and more rain I slide my hand beneath her shirt

away from it all the river becomes a flock of birds

Julian O'Dea

the scents of the flower bed came in on warm fur

looking in the mirror for that face that always hides

some of the breezes bring memories too

shop girl neatly wrapped

Kanchan Chatterjee

prayerwheels a parrot flies away

night sky which star are you Granny?

moonshadow the things I never say

Katha Abela Wilson

blue marble the sky down stone stairs one by one

wondering about the moon when I am not watching

over and over mouthing the same word golden koi

Lance R. Robertson

a desire surfaces for pictureless walls

letting the phone ring I could be out

old man limps the dog

in the shed my rubber boot filled with butter nuts

Laura Williams

artistic liberty I fill in an unclouded sky

watching a new wave grow old flock of seagulls

couched in parentheses (I become an afterthought)

seventy times seven the push and pull of the tide

Lavana Kray

my broken glasses cause me to hear things I never saw

your scent seeks me through the open door

moving my grassy pillow with the cloud's shadow

Lee Wagner

jealous clouds bright memories wait for noon

chrysalis  a baby remembers the future

Linda Keeler

zinnia my heart flutters with the swallowtail

little yellow leaves sweeping away summer

Luciana Vladimir

little flower's bell doesn't sound like a brass bell

Magdalena Banaszkiewicz

fast train at another station autumn too

holding a thread of gossamer distant sound of rain

Mark E. Brager

steady spring rain the first time you left me 

the old roof overnight restored snowfall 

in tangled sheets breathing hyacinth and moonlight

torn rice paper the ragged edge of dawn

Mary Hohlman 

the way my thoughts cry into the night coyote moon

handful of flowers how sweet her morning song

song sparrow I struggle to find the right words

holding you back from me morning mist

Max Babi

room mostly black listening to the blues

thin gruel supports thin wishes

Nancy Wells

morning glory song twice heard before dawn

Neal Whitman

ebb tide my brother's last letter

calling in late night radio a low note

sharpening my garden shears lovers' quarrel

Pamela A. Babusci

birdless sky i turn and face the kite marathon

carrying chrysanthemums to the grave before the morning star 

lonely tonight i drink all the moonbeams

i climb the mountain with my eyes never ending snow 

Paresh Tiwari

teach me fig the zen of a fallen leaf

midnight wolf the howl of the last free moon

my sky the colour of five wild kites

Pat Geyer

painting a river i drop in a waterfall  

waiting to scare up some morning i yawn

arms of the dragon tree bleed pulsing life

Patricia Prine

thick fog nervous headlights pierce the gloom

tick tock listening to the hours slip away

cluster of leaves curl against the fence keeping warm

Peter Newton 

the river when I need to just go with it

anniversary of her death just as sudden

the way the water shimmers my belief in mermaids

whatever I was thinking the cardinal's red

Petruta Ionescu

mulling it over the phases of the moon

Pilar Fernandez-Canadas Greenwood  

each drop followed by another drop crescendo of summer rain

Pravat Kumar Padhy

winter cloud so close to me

along with my haiku winter solstice

Radka Mindova

full moon the final escape of my cat

snowflakes  i remember the words of a prayer

fanfares the white lilacs bloom

Ramesh Anand

beach sunset the lightness of children at a distance

autumn waterfall listening deep to my inner voice

a wild petal backstroking over the rippling moon

almost warm  the sight of petals around the seed

Rob Sullivan

rain makes sisters and brothers of all

one centered step follows another thought

precious bubble surfaces on pond's accepting face

Robert Henry Poulin

weeding I save those with flowers

awaken Buddha mind   half awake is half asleep

streaking star we wished on once

neighbor's wood pile lost is the memory but for his ax

Samar Ghose

kookaburra laughing the silence louder at dusk

in the distance   heat lightning I can't hear

spelling bee spellbound the illiterate father watches his son

driftwood    silent lapping    water

Sandi Pray

long walk down an empty beach halfway to nowhere

even as my pencil breaks lightning

the shape of our laughter old friends

trail's end the sky continues on

Shloka Shankar

studying my curves together graphology

in my head a tete-a-tete with myself

quicksand you kiss me goodbye

a deafening lull hinders my muse

Sondra J. Byrnes

up until now everything

love letter the synapses misfire

if I should break loose consider the shards

late spring we worry up the tulips

Stacey Murphy

waves retreat with the worries i send to sea

Vessislava Savova
lady a hat hidden in a box
dew falls on the grass i look for four-leaf clovers 

an old piano some cobwebs between my fingers

Vibeke Laier

summer morning nameless little flower by the riverside

moonlight the way the body changes to silk

in the street a path of tiny lanterns harvest moon

night fall the last drop of sunlight caught in a puddle

Zee Zahava

snowflakes unwrinkle me

daydreaming about a garden i can daydream in

muddy day happy day

late afternoon curled into a nap beside you