Welcome to the October 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.
The theme of this month’s collection is “kitchen haiku”
Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, India, Ireland, Italy, Malaysia, Malta, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, the United States, Wales.
a sink
full of
unfulfilled dreams
ai li
grandma’s pantry . . .
hidden behind the preserves
pear wine
Al Gallia
dirty dishes
wait in the cupboard
clean ones in the sink
Alan Bern
back of the pantry a label in dad’s hand
Alan Peat
fry up —
she adds more spice
to yesterday’s story
Alan Peat
window feeder
watching the goldfinch
watching me eat
Alan Peat
feeding vinegar through the coffee machine deep cleanse
Alan Summers
clearing the toaster
of more than crumbs
window clouds
Alan Summers
eggs benedict
for breakfast
and roses just picked
Alexis Rotella
cakes in the oven
we walk
on tiptoes
Alexis Rotella
geography lesson —
I slice a pomegranate
as I draw a volcano
Ana Drobot
shortcrust pastry your harsh words
Angela Giordano
early autumn
pear jam
for breakfast
Angiola Inglese
tax man
we spread last year
on the kitchen table
Barbara Kaufmann
making pesto
for once I keep the splatter
off the ceiling
Barbara Kaufmann
friday
on the refrigerator door
a new drawing
Barbara Sayre
iron teapot
the time it takes
to grow old
Barrie Levine
my daughter
saving the world
cloth napkins
Barrie Levine
taste test —
discovering the typo
in the recipe
Bill Waters
mom’s six sisters
loud and wildly cooking
watch your back
Blue Waters
winter tea
fifty-four bones
cradling my cup
Brad Bennett
guests due soon
more coriander
more cumin
Brad Bennett
ergonometric kitchen
still tripping over
the cat’s food bowl
Bryan D. Cook
winter solitude
reminding myself chocolate
isn’t a meal
Bryan Rickert
mother’s funeral
the silence of
her tea kettle
Bryan Rickert
something green always
growing in a glass or jar
my mother’s kitchen
C. Robin Janning
my sous chef
brave enough to use
the mandoline
Carol Judkins
vintage pyrex
tuna fish casserole
every friday night
Carol Judkins
singing hymns
mother peeling apples
her bagpipe voice
Carole Johnston
fruit flies . . .
time to turn bananas
into bread
Carole MacRury
late life —
using the good china
for breakfast
Carole MacRury
sunlit windowsill . . .
another avocado seed
fails to sprout
Carole MacRury
morning coffee
lip-prints on her cup
and my cheek
Chen Xiaoou
leftovers
on the kitchen table . . .
things half-spoken
Chen-ou Liu
housewarming cake
the neighbor’s knife rack shaped
like a human body
Chen-ou Liu
an assortment
in the air fryer
doughnut holes
Christina Chin
those little beetroots pickling the garden
Christina Martin
lids on lids off
steaming cauliflower
almost a spill
Christina Martin
kitchen herbs leaning toward the sun
Christina Sng
garden party
the gathering begins
and ends in the kitchen
Christine Wenk-Harrison
gran at the stove
not wanting any help
her apple pie
Claire Vogel Camargo
scrubbing
the kitchen sink
storm watch
C.R. Harper
mason jars
a cucumber ribbon curls
around my wrist
Debbie Strange
my auntie’s kitchen
linoleum worn thin at
the stove
Deborah Burke Henderson
dishwasher rhythms
fill her dream
empty night
Donna Fleischer
rainy weather
champignons a la creme
everyday
Elena Malec
kitchen window
day moon stained
with ketchup
Florin C. Ciobica
pan overflowing with fresh garden colors
Frank Muller
grandma’s home
a summer spiced
with pickled mangoes
Geethanjali Rajan
winter morning chill
pounding fresh ginger
to spice my chai
Geethanjali Rajan
first gas stove
third burnt meal —
kids opening windows
Geoff Pope
grocery bags . . .
the cat waits
for that sound
Geoff Pope
burnt out bulb
the cutting board’s
white scratches
Glenn Ingersoll
my grandmother hummed
whenever she baked a cake
we tasted her song
Jack Goldman
bygone friends . . .
kitchen cabinet filled with
souvenir mugs
Jackie Chou
wrapping dumplings
our special bonding
in every fold
Jackie Chou
thawing shrimp under the tap
snowmelt drips
down the kitchen window
Jenna Le
dad’s birthday cake
cutting the slices thin
to make them last
Jenna Le
commercial break —
rushing i drop my cupcake
in the cat bowl
Jill Lange
her rolling pin just being
there in the drawer
how it connects me
Jill Lange
the cactus found
in grandmother’s window
here now with its offspring
Jill Lange
smells of dinner —
tomatoes, dad is home
lamb, dad’s at work
Joan Leotta
additions
to the recipe
spider threads
Joanna Ashwell
butterfly cakes
just the sound
of raindrops
Joanna Ashwell
bland soup
silent sit-alone breakfast
after break-up
Joe Sebastian
sneaking from behind
I grab her at the sink
she breaks a small glass
Joel Savishinsky
kitchen sink
walking on the suds
a daddy long-legs
John J. Dunphy
power outage
I ransack the kitchen for
the manual can opener
John J. Dunphy
peeling onions imagining my parents as children
John Pappas
squash soup
the pain in my elbow
stirring
John Pappas
woven into the kitchen curtain
a strand
of mom’s hair
Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi
icebox
grandmother tells me about
her grandmother’s springhouse
Joshua St. Claire
overcrowded kitchen . . . no space for my sister’s absence
Julia Guzman
potato omelette —
the same saucepan
generation to generation
Julia Guzman
silverware drawer a single spoon lonely
Karla Linn Merrifield
boosting spirits
inviting friends again
to our kitchen table
Kath Abela Wilson
under the dish towels
mother’s stash
of caramels
Kathleen Kramer
rainy day train
kitchen chairs in a row
i’m the engineer
Kathleen Kramer
kitchen table
the sun casts a glow over
the quan yin statue
Katya Sabaroff Taylor
turmeric sky
grandma’s cookbook pages
smudged in yellow
Lakshmi Iyer
aroma of masala still
in the washed kitchen towels . . .
family reunion
Lakshmi Iyer
stay outside
in breathable air
oven cleaning cycle
Laurinda Lind
lack of ego the celery allows the dip
Lorraine A Padden
first love
the rosemary pressed
in her cookbook
Lorraine A Padden
cassoulet
all the French
I’ll ever need
Lorraine A Padden
chilly night
the warmth of another
chipotle in the chili
Marcie Wessels
trussing a chicken
for sunday dinner
not quite julia child
Marcie Wessels
expired the pantry bare
Margaret Walker
family reunion
my adult sister kicks me
under the table
Marianne Paul
cottage pantry
ants ants ants ants
in the cake
Marianne Paul
rusty iron pot
wondering about
going makeup-free
Marietta McGregor
cool morning
the sun and yeast
slowly rise
Marilyn Ashbaugh
first apartment
the turkey too big
for the oven
Marilyn Ashbaugh
outdoor kitchen
campfire pan sizzles
with sausages
Marilyn Humbert
new year’s eve
busy preparing dough
for the first bread
Marta Chocilowska
teatime
just water and leaves
you and me
Mary Kendall
summer backyard kitchen
this bee rests in the shade
of my whisk
Maya Daneva
one cup one plate one fork . . . life alone
Michael Flanagan
since you’ve gone
the oven is a museum
for relics of past feasts
Michael Flanagan
the recipe calls for lemons
no lemons here
I use blueberries
Michael G. Smith
my inheritance
from her welsh cupboard
the willow pattern
Mike Gallagher
new dishwasher
now we argue about
who empties it
Mike Gallagher
midnight prowl
a frightened house gecko
on the fridge
Milan Rajkumar
slicing bamboo shoots —
the shape of father’s hands
in my own
Milan Rajkumar
wilderness kitchen
the hollowed-out hardwood sink
sprouts moss and mushrooms
Mimi Foyle
grey morning
a pinch of cinnamon
in my tea
Mirela Brailean
haiku submissions:
pots and pans in the sink
await their turn
Neena Singh
salt and pepper
on the kitchen table
match my hair
Neena Singh
kitchen table
how I miss my
window
Pat Davis
long before the term
multipurpose room
our kitchen
Pat Davis
busy bakers
in an old folks’ home
their cookbook wins a prize
Paul Beech
smartphones in hand —
the soup
grows colder
Paul Callus
cleaning
the entire house
guests gather in our kitchen
Paula Sears
sifting through
grandma’s recipe box
she practices cursive
Paula Sears
preacher day
one chicken and cobbed corn
fills us all
Pris Campbell
dinner call
my imaginary playmate’s
empty plate
Pris Campbell
alone . . .
mother learns
to microwave
Pris Campbell
nearly winter thyme drying in the oven
Richard Matta
morning tea
splashes of grey
on my saucer
Richard Matta
monday, let’s do this
crock pot slowly works magic . . .
dinner served at six
Roberta Beach Jacobson
new refrigerator the dent that came with it
Susan Burch
elbows off the table
so we don’t squash
the fairies
Theresa A. Cancro
practicing arabesque
a kitchen chair stands in
for his arm
Theresa A. Cancro
that Portland bar
i baked pan pizzas in an old stove
black as a train
Tina Wright
in the kitchen
my “personal things”
top shelf
Tom Clausen
two teacups
the years they have sat
side by side
Tom Clausen
hovering mom-in-law
my kitchen is now
a sanity-free zone
Vandana Parashar
by the kitchen window
pigeons repair
last year’s nest
Vibeke Laier
autumn moon
shadows of the old oak tree
on my kitchen wall
Vibeke Laier
third coffee
just before dawn
new haiku
Wieslaw Karlinski
middle of autumn
granddaughter bakes on her own
rice cakes
Wieslaw Karlinski
his and hers
cream cheese on my waffle
maple syrup on his
Wilda Morris
after all these years
still reading the directions . . .
hard boiled eggs
Zee Zahava
Saturday, October 1, 2022
kitchen haiku
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