long night moon

by on May 5, 2017


long night moon
the old clock
ticks louder


Deborah P Kolodji is the California Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America, the moderator of the Southern California Haiku Study Group, and a member of the Board of Directors for Haiku North America.  Having published over 900 haiku over the last 15 years, her first full-length collection, highway of sleeping towns, was recently published by Shabda Press.

The Two Ends

by on May 3, 2017

I kept losing my pencils at school. At first, dad would cut each pencil in half. Then mom threatened to tie the half-pencil to my button.

autumn pile
every leaf
finds its place


Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy is a psychiatrist from Bengaluru India,  living in England. A trained vocalist and a composer in Indian Classical Music, he writes in Kannada, Sankethi, Tamil and English languages. His haikai writings have been published in reputed journals and anthologies and won prizes, worldwide. He is currently the Editor of the Blithe Spirit, journal of The British Haiku Society.

The Island

by on May 1, 2017

Kristin-who-cuts-my-hair describes her sweet
honeymoon in the Bahamas. She *Snip*

says it was a telephone offer. Who
in their right mind would? But they did.

In the mirror, behind blue Barbicide,
she shapes thin sheets of hair as she talks.

But she’s only a blur—her island grows,
luxurious, through my reflection. Later, home,

and the Weather shows a swirling egg yolk,
red as a dragon’s eye, aimed at the Bahamas.

Someone told me once: Don’t go to Paris,
it’s not there. And if you loved the book,

don’t see the movie, ever. Untroubled by storms,
Kristin’s green lizards smile on from pink walls.


Barbara Young hasn’t been writing much this year. East Nashville got too popular, so she and Jim packed up the cats and moved out to White Bluff. A grocery, two hardware stores, and a bakery that only makes doughnuts. Change is interesting. Because writing prompts can be easier than poems, Barbara sometimes becomes “Miz Quickly.”

snow angel

by on Apr 28, 2017


snow angel
two sticks from the woodpile
and a butterfly


Tom Sacramona is a poet living in Plainville, Massachusetts. He is grateful to have haiku published in journals, such as bottle rockets, Mayfly and Modern Haiku. Sacramona is a member of the Boston Haiku Society and the Haiku Society of America.  Learn more about haiku: Visit his blog at tomsacramona.wordpress.com


by on Apr 26, 2017

Waiting for catastrophe
I keep busy with things
that don’t matter,
avoid starting what
I might not finish,
try not to mourn,
or spend myself in rage,
wasting energies
I can’t replace.
Grief will come
when I think I have
outrun it.
I already have too many
sympathy cards
and sleepless hours enough
to find thousands
of bad endings
that become easier and easier
to imagine.


Mary McCarthy has always been a writer, but spent most of her working life as a Registered Nurse. Her work has appeared in many online and print journals, including Earth’s Daughters, Gnarled Oak, Third Wednesday and Three Elements Review. Her echapbook Things I Was Told Not To Think About is available through Praxis magazine online as a free download. She is grateful for the wonderful online communities of writers and poets sharing their work and passion for writing, providing a rich world of inspiration, appreciation, and delight.

i woke this morning

by on Apr 25, 2017

to a neutral voice intoning
bombs in marketplaces
and refugees washed upon the shore

to music of breath and skin
dark cascade of pillowed hair
gossamer feather of touch

to dreams of justice
from the vast sea’s edge
to beyond the distant shore

to a jacaranda blue day
dancing through the curtain
and kookaburras’ liquid burst of song


Neil Creighton is an Australian poet whose work as a teacher of English and Drama brought him into close contact with thousands of young lives, most happy and triumphant but too many tragically filled with neglect. It made him intensely aware of how opportunity is so unequally proportioned and his work often reflects strong interest in social justice. His recent publications have been in Poetry Quarterly, Autumn Sky Daily, Praxis mag online, Rats Ass and Verse Virtual, where he is a Contributing Editor. He blogs at windofflowers.blogspot.com.au

When My Youth Catches Up with Me

by on Feb 22, 2017

The one I am is fragile in the mirror.
The one I was still lives wildly
along a nature trail, throws rocks
through windows of pools, makes waves,
never grows up but climbs the tallest
of an old-growth forest. He still growls
loudly in my ears, though the lines
he cannot cross are trails worn
so deeply in the past and on my face.

I grumble, clear a hole in the window fog,
replay a film on the pane, eyes flickering
along the forest path where the barefoot boy
is lost forever. Still an echo calls,
not to warn me, but to lead me through
long winters, the snow settling deeper
and deeper in my hair. The trail beneath
my slowing steps whitens, frozen in time
but for a time still cracking like glass.


Robert S. King, a native Georgian, now lives in Lexington, Kentucky, where he serves on the board of FutureCycle Press. His poems have appeared in hundreds of magazines, including Atlanta Review,  Chariton Review, Kenyon Review, Main Street Rag, Midwest Quarterly, Southern Poetry Review, and Spoon River Poetry Review. He has published eight poetry collections, most recently Developing a Photograph of God (Glass Lyre Press, 2014).

The Next Generation of Stones

by on Feb 21, 2017

Spring finds new stones forced into the world,
children of winter’s long hidden labors.
Not even keen ermine sensed their coming
under that crystalline surface.
But they were there awaiting shifts,
pressures, erosions to bring them out of hiding,
into the leveled field to trip up horse and plow.
The only way to light they take is tearing.
Seeing fields now marred and broken,
farmers root them out, preserving them for walls
when they should be buried back.
Summer brings even plots that welcome seed,
but crops will wilt, and snow will hide
the next generation of stones.


Amy Kotthaus is a writer, translator, painter, and photographer. Her poetry has been published in Ink in Thirds, Yellow Chair Review, and Section 8. Her photography has been published in Storm Cellar, Ground Fresh Thursday, Crab Fat Magazine, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, and Digging Through the Fat. She currently lives in Maine with her husband and children.

their affair

by on Feb 20, 2017


their affair
the pattern of stones
in a zen garden


Deborah P Kolodji is the California Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America and the moderator of the Southern California Haiku Study Group.   She has published over 900 haiku and other short poems in numerous journals both on and off the web.