April issue: one-line haiku

Welcome to the April 2016 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month there is no particular theme but each poem is just one line long (sometimes only one word!)  . . .  revealing beauty and depth in a deceptively simple form.

Contributors are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, England, France, India, Ireland, Philippines, Poland, Romania, and the United States



folding café napkins between lunch and early dinner
    - Alan Bern

desk top with snow globes, storm clouds locked inside
    - Alan Catlin

not yet light the wall and its black cat
    - Alan Summers

cloudy her evening eyes after washing off her makeup
    - Ana Drobot

over under beyond green mountains spring mist
    - Angelee Deodhar

sea waves returning to the empty snail shells
    - Archana Kapoor Nagpal

you smile I pretend not to notice
    - Barbara Cartwright

weeping cherry mother always loved you best
    - Barbara Kaufmann

on the seventh day birds sing in the garden
    - Barbara Tate

ancient well the bucket has no reflection
    - Billy Antonio

horse whispering daughter apple blossoms in her smile
    - Caroline Skanne

green ferns rustle big paws
    - Chandler Scott-Smith

winter rain the scent of mourning
    - Christine L. Villa

the common language we don't speak to each other
    - Dave Read

( ( ( (frog) ) ) )
    - David J. Kelly

a curl of eyelash on your pillow crescent moon
    - Debbie Strange

david bowie the genie returns to his lamp
    - Devin Harrison

so many bracelets so little time
    - Gabrielle Vehar

this dagger in my heart last night's empty sugar
    - Helen Buckingham

driving home the white breath of buffalo across the plains
    - Jo Balistreri

all the greens of spring opening our eyes
    - Joan McNerney

empty elevator her perfume tarries
    - Joann Grisetti

homebound the excitement of mail
    - Julie Bloss Kelsey

weeping willow . . . another widow's rain
    - Karen O'Leary

worm and robin wrestle with complexity
    - Karla Linn Merrifield

above the kitchen sink an older woman's reflection
    - Kat Lehmann

even the night bird is sleeping low wind
    - Kath Abela Wilson

always a garden betrayal of truth
    - Katherine May

tire chatter on the long highway
    - Lance Robertson

vast sky features single hawk
    - Leah Grady Sayvetz

crocuses bending low so cold
    - Linda Keeler

hot air all through the night his lies
    - Lovette Carter

despite the budding trees my mind remains in winter
    - Margaret Dennis

we waited until we met
    - Margaret Jones

hangingfromathreadbareemotions
    - Marianne Paul

chest deep in sunset the rising tide
    - Mark E. Brager

first dragonfly touching the grass morning dew
    - Marta Chocilowska

greatest love one hug at a time
    - Marty Blue Waters

sudden fog I forget where I've been
    -Mary Kendall

small creek rising flooded basement hurricane season
    - Michael Schaff

dinosaur fossil quarry — my own aching bones
    - Miriam Sagan

yesterday phone calls from both sisters lucky me
    - Nancy Osborn

winter sun a bird plays with its shadow
    - Nicole Pottier

a field of orange hawkweed gentle monarch breeze
    - Pamela A. Babusci

the cane alone in the corner will we soon partner
    - Pat Geyer

seed catalog she finds a name for her baby
    - Phyllis Lee

fragments of poems emerging my dog's damp nose
    - Pris Campbell

dusting old family photos winter sun
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

strangers before small favor
    - Rob Sullivan

found letters fed into the flaring hearth unread
    - Ron Scully

spring stars just enough to match her age
    - Rosa Clement

the color of his eyes a year of grief
    - Sara Robbins

softly softly bluebells in the mist
    - Simon Hanson

we are only spilling ink
    - Sondra Byrnes

the place of stones instructions from the dripping moss
    - Stacey Murphy

I collect them — folding bookcases and dust bunnies
    - Sue Crowley

putting on mittens and muffler — searching for the first crocus
    - Sue Norvell

paws on his shoulder ownership
    - Sue Perlgut

snow drops — a child calls here are some more
    - Susan Lesser

a mosquito in my ear the midnight train
    - Theresa A. Cancro

still in denial fortune teller
    - Tim Gardiner

the time it takes to shape shift . . .
    - Tom Clausen

mother's room one lonely candle burning out   
    - Vibeke Laier

babies — ha ha ha
    - Yvonne Fisher

quick before it's too late ripening avocado
    - Zee Zahava

Haiku by and About Women

Welcome to the March 2016 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This issue showcases small poems by and about women. March 8 is International Women's Day and we write in  celebration of women and girls.

You will notice the way certain themes and references appear in more than one haiku, like threads connecting women to one another.

Poems have been received from Brazil, Canada, Denmark, England, Poland, Romania, and The United States.


cherry blossoms —
a daughter tries on her mother's
wedding dress
    - Ana Drobot

November evening
I unbraid in front of the mirror
the moon's shine
    - Anna Mazurkiewicz

the soles
of her work boots
cherry petals
    - Anne Burgevin

all eyes
following the brides
a swallowtail
    - Anne Burgevin

first anniversary
adding touches
to grandma's recipes
    - Barbara Tate

rocking chair
grandma's metronome
toc   tic   toc
    - Barbara Tate

gnarled fingers
her cello sold long ago
she can't hear the crows
    - Carole Johnston

I'm still that girl
who scandalized my mother
barefoot in rain
    - Carole Johnston

my daughter
we smile when she dances . . .
wild honey
    - Carole Johnston

mum do you colour
your hair to look more
like me, asks daughter
    - Caroline Skanne

childhood music box
now my daughter
sings for me
    - Caroline Skanne

porcelain doll
putting a broken childhood
back together
    - Caroline Skanne

first blossoms
her laughter startles
the calf
    - Chandler Hennessy Scott-Smith

day moon
(dis)appearing
sister's thin face
    - Debbie Strange

first chemo
a yellow leaf caught
in her hair
    - Debbie Strange

old books the oddments of my past lives
    - Debbie Strange
 
the scent of jasmine
curls around me
a breath so soft
    - Donna DiCostanzo

her voice bigger than she is
Grandmama calls the cows home
winter dusk
    - Ferris Gilli

familiar words . . .
my daughter helps her daughter
light the Hanukkah candles
    - Ferris Gilli

Mama's recipe  . . .
all the times I've held this card
just to touch the writing
    - Ferris Gilli

I wear two watches
for memories
and practicality
    - Gabrielle Vehar

when I am home
I am
night-clad
    - Gabrielle Vehar

International Women's Day —
he rolls his eyes
like a rattled doll
    - Helen Buckingham
(originally appeared in Presence 49)

she waits for news . . .
the scrawl of twigs
in the gunmetal sky
    - Jo Balistreri

the click of bamboo
in the wind . . .
grandma's rosary
    - Jo Balistreri

at her easel the sea's changing face
    - Jo Balistreri

green new leaf fits
her hand perfectly — the future
waits in this girl's palm
    - Joan McNerney

sisters . . .
another spat
to forgive
    - Joann Grisetti

the tug
a child sent out to rake
"come too, mommy"
    - Joann Grisetti

tough love
closing the door
on his lies
    - Joann Grisetti

tall grass
gone to seed
her friendship
    - Joanna M. Weston

toffee apple
with sprinkles —
my lipstick   
    - Joanna M. Weston

scudding along with the clouds my mind adrift again
    - Julie Bloss Kelsey

trying to discern
this phase of my life
— daytime moon
    - Julie Bloss Kelsey

my baby doll
in my daughter's arms . . .
my baby dolls
    - Julie Bloss Kelsey

empty desk . . .
office light dim
without her
    - Karen O'Leary

Egyptian hands
to soothe she taught me
baby bellydance
    - Kath Abela Wilson

family photos
of mom before I was born
flowery hat
    - Kath Abela Wilson

butterfly pajamas
chosen for this
her last night
    - Kath Abela Wilson

orphanage room —
children call me:
mom!
    - Lavana Kray

I said
when we have kids
I need to live near my mother
    - Leah Grady Sayvetz

picking flowers
on the beach
shells
    - Linda Keeler

two together
wherever
whenever
    - Linda Keeler

scattered leaves
this time she'll dance
by herself
    - Lovette Carter

still waters
a child pretends to
feed her baby
    - Lovette Carter

talking too much
she makes me blush
reminder of myself
    - Margaret Dennis
 
mother sews a kite
onto my little apron —
blue sky
    - Maria Tirenescu

wide-eyed pansies
everywhere little girls worshipping
big girls
    - Marianne Paul

twin sisters
the one who gave birth
to the moon
    - Marianne Paul

my euphonium
cradled in my arms
deep breath deep sound
    - Marty Blue Waters

motherhood
my daughter finds comfort
rubbing my belly
    - Mary Hohlman

early spring
she finally learns
to ride her bike
    - Mary Hohlman

full moon
the shadow of her breasts
on the silk curtains
    - Mary Hohlman

barren lilac . . .
a silence I once
knew
    - Mary Kendall

the doubts you had
when I married your son . . .
broken pearls
    - Mary Kendall

each year
a pressing appointment . . .
mammogram
    - Mary Kendall

my west coast cousin
we share poems
as if we lived next door
    - Nancy Osborn

spring arrives
my sister and I
buy new sandals
    - Nancy Osborn

the small box
holds my Brownie pin
and memories of an eight year old
    - Nancy Osborn

vining branches
weaving thoughts of my mother . . .
wisteria tree
    - Pat Geyer

sing at dawn sing at dusk when women were birds
    - Pat Geyer

weeping on the bed
distraught
no ring
    - Paula Culver

I walk in late winter:
sunset gilds the windows
wind dusts the bricks
    - Phoebe Lakin

one tear
she yields to the term
terminal
    - Phyllis Lee

yo! hey! what's up?
how she used to answer
the phone   
    - Phyllis Lee

another blizzard
when will
my winter end?
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

memory box
all the roles
I've played
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

old photograph
I wonder which girl
is my mother
    - Rosa Clement

apple tree in bloom
my mother's aged bones
rest for a while   
    - Rosa Clement

just married
she shakes rain drops
from her jacket
    - Rosa Clement

baking two pies
at once —
I plan to share
    - Sara Robbins

I carry firewood —
my Russian grandmother
had the same big arms
    - Sara Robbins

Laurie's laugh is magical
like a bell
in a long conversation
    - Sheila Dean

new widow's lips
set in a thin line —
winter horizon
    - Theresa A. Cancro

restringing
my mother's pearls —
light snowfall
    - Theresa A. Cancro

family scrapbook —
great-grandma at the edge
of a photo
    - Theresa A. Cancro

she asks
for wind chimes
her 80th birthday
    - Tricia Knoll

silent night rain
mother's voice still fills
the empty room
    - Vibeke Laier

forgotten adventures
my childhood in a
basket of toys
    - Vibeke Laier

lime trees in bloom —
on watch at the window
girl and moon
    - Virginia Popescu

since my last birthday bigger and noisier dreams
    - Zee Zahava

in another time zone my mother also washes her hair
    - Zee Zahava

my aging hands more beautiful right now
    - Zee Zahava

Night Haiku

Welcome to the December issue of brass bell: a haiku journal. This month's theme is night.

Contributors come from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, England, France, Ghana, India, Ireland, Japan, Nigeria, Poland, Romania, Scotland, Switzerland, Tunisia, Ukraine, and the United States

moonlight absorbing fireflies

- Adjei Agyei-Baah

bunk beds —

the moon shifts silently

to the upper lake

- Ajaya Mahala

night walking

the shrieking baby

a fly in his ear

- Alan Bern

in the outdoor sculpture garden carved hands posed to cradle night 

- Alan Catlin

sleeping rough

I make more room

for the Milky Way

- Alan Summers

each page of

Tender is the Night

a sleepless night

- Ali Znaidi

unable to sleep
I amble through the garden —
night blooming cestrum

- Amauri Solon

night time —

even the clock

stops ticking

- Ana Drobot

long night

reading another book

about insomnia

- Anna Goluba

remote home —

more and more gloomy

the new moon

- Anna Mazurkiewicz

sailing with my paper boats a moonbow

- Archana Kapoor Nagpal

rolling blackout

suddenly

these stars!

- ayaz daryl nielsen

new year's eve

turning the corner

I see where I've been

- Barbara Tate

sleepless night . . .

the silence

between my breaths

- Bill Waters

night

lifts her long black skirt

steps into dawn

- C. Robin Janning

so much 

to say

full moon

- Caroline Skanne

moon shadow puppets

her round womb like a balloon

under the sheets

- Catherine Rigutto

midnight bus shelter

the lullaby

of spring rain

- Chen-ou Liu

night fog

I lose my bearings

standing still

- Dave Read

nightwatchman

alone with his dog

and his thoughts

- David J. Kelly

moonlit lake

I brush the silver

from your hair

- Debbie Strange

night blooming jasmine

uncomfortable memories

of us

- Deborah P Kolodji

afterwards

the silence that divides us

sleepless night

- Devin Harrison

night train

letting a tse-tse fly go

through the window

- Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian

2 a.m.

I grip the murder mystery

a little tighter

- Ferris Gilli

moonless night only the echo shows the way

- Gergana Yaninska

wind chimes in the night

a Bedouin caravan

entering my dream

- Jack Goldman

wheeze of night ice

on the windshield 

broken defroster

- Jan Benson

still hissing into the night raging bushfire

- Jayashree Maniyil

the pastels 

of a desert evening . . .

a warbler's song

- Jo Balistreri

that last night

he looked back

I waved

- Joan Corr

what discus player

threw a tangerine moon on

top of Main Street?

- Joan McNerney

snow 

plows through a village

tonight

- Joann Grisetti

sorting buttons

for Grandma

starry night . . .

- Joanna M. Weston

first night alone

rocking back and forth

the clock ticks

- Karen O'Leary

night breeze

the faint scent 

of an unseen lilac

- Kat Lehmann

five languages

at 90 she talks in her sleep

to each child

- Kath Abela Wilson

one night, many stars

one woman, many stories

see how matched we are

- Katya Sabaroff Taylor

night of an eclipse . . .

the scribbling in my diary

means nothing

- kris moon

old barn

through the hole in the roof

the Big Dipper

- Krzysztof Kokot

crescent moon

rocking a boat

in mid-sea

- Kumarendra Mallick

rural highway

our eyes

watching for eyes

- Lance Robertson

blue night another last time to cry

- Lovette Carter

coffee stains 

from that night

you didn't die

- Margaret Jones

so lonely —

even the moon

is not with me

- Maria Tirenescu

white pines

the night humming

of giraffes

- Marianne Paul

quarter moon the milk boils over

- Mark E. Brager

hazy moon

a snowflake thaws

between our lips

- Marta Chocilowska

deep into the night

little owl and I 

contemplate the universe

- Marty Blue Waters

between two
decrepit buildings —
poplar in late evening light

- Nicholas Klacsanzky

black sky —

caught in the electric wires

a captive star

- Nicole Pottier

under a full moon

a couple strides over dry leaves

in search of the dark

- Nina Kovačić

owl song

a moonbeam glides

through the pine trees

- Olivier Schopfer

missing you . . .

this moon abandons

the night

- Pat Geyer

restless night

I count

haiku syllables

- philip d noble

dripping city after dusk —

the interplay

of mist and light

- Phoebe Lakin

on the brick wall

moonlight hangs

lace curtains

- Phyllis Lee

potholes —

a frog jumps into

the scary night

- Pravat Kumar Padhy

unfolding darkness

the chill of the pillow

next to mine

- Rachel Sutcliffe

the moon 

setting early

sleepy seeds

- Robin White

moonlight

her pearl necklace twinkles

from afar

- Rosa Clement

no end

to this empty road

but the moon waits there

- Sandi Pray

counting sheep backwards on loop

- Shloka Shankar

snail

see what the moon makes

of wanderers

- Simon Hanson

midsummer night —

you pick pine needles

out of my hair

- Sondra J. Byrnes

some nights it is just

easier to sleep with my

mute hypocrisy

- Stacey Crawford-Murphy

walking at sunset

a lightning bug lands

upon my T-shirt

- Stephen Page

evening star

snowflakes cling

to the screen door

- Theresa A. Cancro

a plank swing sways

in night wind on rusty hooks

crickets

- Tricia Knoll

raindrops through golden leaves a moon lake

- Vibeke Laier

stars closer to the graves silent cicadas

- Virginia Popescu

starlit night . . .

crocheting

our monosyllables

- Yesha Shah

moon 

why do you follow me tonight?

I am lost

- Zee Zahava

Morning Haiku

Welcome to the November issue of brass bell: a haiku journal. This month's theme is morning. 

Contributors come from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, England, France, Germany, Ghana, India, Ireland, New Zealand, Nigeria, Oman, Poland, Romania, Scotland, Tunisia, and The United States

an early bird

at the tail of a late worm

first light

- Adjei Agyei-Baah

huge bright morning moon

after last night's lunar eclipse —

let us speak again

- Alan Bern

a tourist thing, pants rolled, walking barefoot in the morning sea

- Alan Catlin

book of birdsong

the compartments

in my body

- Alan Summers

morning . . .

the same pain

repeats itself

- Ali Znaidi

morning . . .

the basil plant

already worshiped

- Ajaya Mahala

reflections in the placid lake —

behind my narcissistic self

the sun rises

- Amauri Solon

morning —

one dry leaf

gets off the bus

- Ana Drobot

November morning —

the cemetery gate

opens

- Anna Goluba

plum season

all of a sudden

shorter mornings

- Anne Burgevin

traffic jam

I turn up the volume

of morning report

- Anne Curran

my green antennae

waving good morning in the air

and your green antennae, too!

- ayaz daryl nielsen

chilly dawn my loneliness turns to chickadees

- Barbara Kaufmann

morning sun

remembering what should be

forgotten

- Barbara Tate

walking to school

cowbird egg

now a child's gift

- Ben Mitchell

leaves and rain

fall together

this dim autumn morning

- Bill Waters

blackbird

drinking morning dew from

a fallen pear

- Bozena Zernec

carried in a blackbird's beak the rising sun

- Caroline Skanne

wild dance

the day begins

with porridge

- Chandler Hennessy Scott-Smith

morning yoga —

in my cupped hands

the floating sun

- Charishma Navneet Gupta

breezy morning

the scent of steamed buns

ends meditation

- Chen-ou Liu

first light

a fuzzy head pops out

of a nest

- Christine L. Villa

first snow

a young dog entertains

the morning

- D. V. Rozic

a gust 

through the windsock

morning chill

- Dave Read

pre-dawn power cut

the unfailing fanfare

of sunrise

- David J. Kelly

sunrise sunflower heads dangling a charm of finches

- Debbie Strange

downtown

the distance from bed

on Sunday morning

- Devin Harrison

frosty morning

i write my wish on

the window

- Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian

the morning's promise:

every day is new

every day is the same

- Frank Robinson

the taste of the morning blackberry smile in the yard

- Gergana Yaninska

I wash my morning bowl over last night's dishes

- Glenn Ingersoll

seagull

on a streetlamp

morning light

- Helen Buckingham

when i was a boy

the hens in our backyard

quizzed me before school

- Jack Goldman

Terlingua dawn

a muster of tumbleweeds

laces the horizon

- Jan Benson

sunrise

I share my prayer

with a late cricket

- Janina Kowal

at dawn . . .

mangroves

white with wings

- Jo Balistreri

sunrise duet

a sparrow's song

the whistling kettle

- Joan Corr

listening to a soft symphony of morning raindrops

- Joan McNerney

tension in the air

will it rain or snow

this autumn morning

- Joann Grisetti

his cap and stick

in the cupboard  . . .

her morning walk­­

- Joanna M. Weston

central farm time

milking the cows before

the cock crows

- Karen O'Leary

one lifelong rival —

my shadow — appears at sunrise

frost lingers

- Karla Linn Merrifield

my alarm wild parrots

- Katha Abela Wilson

how many flowers

can i count as i wander

in morning garden

- Katya Sabaroff Taylor

veil of darkness

the sun rises

in every lotus

- Kumarendra Mallick

ceiling watching before the alarm

- Lance Robertson

refugees across the village

rooster on the fence

wakes us all

- Lavana Kray

pumpkin pie for breakfast November morning

- Linda Keeler

evidence

of a night of weeping —

morning dew

- Lolly Williams

morning delay
the train blows
a trail of dew

- Lovette Carter

loud knocking wakes me —

woodpecker learning he can't

eat vinyl siding

- Margaret Fisher Squires

sunray

knocking at

the ant hill

- Marinko Kovačević

morning light

hand in hand

we test the pond ice

- Mark E. Brager

morning lake

a bather turns her back

to the swan

- Marta Chocilowska

the moon's face

fading into cloud

morning wind

- Maureen Sudlow

at first light the blue bird flies away taking my dream

- Nicole Pottier

misty morning

one lantern 

still on

- Nina Kovačić

morning storm —

the garden Buddha

becomes a snowman

- Pamela A. Babusci

first light . . .

the delicate pink

of a periwinkle

- Paresh Tiwari

damp pillow . . .

dogged by these

morning blues

- Pat Geyer

marshmallow kisses

and sun in the little cup—

breakfast for two

- Petruta Ionescu

out of business

the merry-go-round

takes in sunrise

- Phyllis Lee

early morning

sun under the pigeon's wings

comes and goes and comes

- philip d noble

first catch

the rising sun

in the old man's net

- Rachel Sutcliffe

day moon beyond the fog my childhood forest

-Ramona Linke

trellis 

twisting glory

morning glory 

- Robert Henry Poulin

almost morning

the hummingbird returns

to its fake flower

- Rosa Clement

I, too,

woke up late —

wild violets

- Sanjuktaa Asopa

breakfast at dawn apricot sky

- Simon Hanson

morning tea

she runs her finger

around the pacific rim

- Sondra J. Byrnes

sleepy toddler

on his mother's shoulder

catching morning train

- Stefica Vanjek

opening the shades

to let the morning light in —

two sparrows staring

- Stephen Page

summer morning —

a rooster struts past

the weathervane's shadow

- Theresa A. Cancro

not a hint of cloud

in the morning sky . . .

silent sunrise

- Tim Gardiner

spider morning mandala sparkles on my clothesline

- Tina Wright

morning by the sea —

washing my shaving brush

in the waves

- Tomislav Maretić

simple truth 

of a rainy dawn

missing her

- Tricia Knoll

morning splash

a single duckling

longing for company

- Vibeke Laier

morning miracle

touch a flower

another one flourishes

- Victoria Fatu Nalatiu

trembling dawnlight —

a spider moves its web

nearer to the fireplace

- Virginia Posescu

why create new rituals?

each morning

we open our eyes

- Zee Zahava

in search of mushrooms —

in the morning fog

cyclamens only

- Zlata Bogovic