Japanese Short Form Poetry 2011 - 2012

"We shall never understand one another until we reduce the language to seven words."- - Kahlil Gibran   (1883-1931)

Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine © 2007-2018

watching Survivor...
they all wear Che Guevara

autumn moonlight
shining upon his gravestone:
the swan sings in sleep

(for Kenneth Rexroth)    
                      by   Chen-ou Liu

first recital
tension …
on the piano strings


approaching storm—
the silver flash
of turning pigeons

                       by   Nancy Nitrio

new moon night--
one lantern lit
and the bamboo turns gold

an army of Kwan Yins
on the hillside--
cypress grove.

over pampas grass / a vee / of twelve snow geese.

by   Alexis Rotella

abandoned schoolhouse
the overgrown grass
points away

that could melt houses
eyelids on the sofa

                        by Lucas Stensland

morning mist
rising on the bay
ghosts or gulls

in the air
a wave of foam
snowy egret

crack of dawn
the steel cold cry
of a blue jay

out of the fog
a goose calling

                       by  Neal Whitman

play of sunlight
on stucco and stone

dark shadows
across the path not taken -
what might have been

                       by Tracy Davidson

cold afternoon
Santa holds the coughing girl
at arm’s length

winter songbirds--
I can’t name them but I hear
dad among them

right on time. . .
a ladybug lands
on her gravestone

                      by  Robert Epstein 

the first butterflies
sliding through the light...
it seems, it's snowing

                      by Oprica Padeanu

after the storm
the silence
between street puddles

                     by  Paul David Mena 

She came into our lives one spring morning; a hoarse meow at the back door.  No one claimed her so she became ours; my husband and I. We named her Buttercup. 

She loved to be brushed in the sunshine and often slept in the gardenia bush on hot summer days.  In the autumn and winter there was always a warm smell of wood smoke rising from her fur.  On the rare occasion that she slept with us, we held her paws as she snuggled between us.
She was always bringing home stray cats for meals and our help.  Her last feline friend, remained close by her side. She shared her favorite chair and bed with him and they became constant companions.
As the autumn of last year approached we noticed Buttercup was eating less and less and frequently disappearing into the neighbor’s yard for days at a time until one day, we found her resting under the neighbor’s tree with her faithful friend beside her.  We brought her home to remain safe with us for what had become the last ten days of her life.

We spent that time letting her know how very thankful we were that she had been a part of our lives and that it was her time to go. As the vet released her from her pain, we held her soft paws and watched the light fade form her tired eyes.

the wind
scattering her ashes …

                           by   Nancy Nitrio

summer heat -
my cat holds a yoga pose
in front of the fan

i paint her toes
she turns the page

quick stop -
the pretty cashier
changes that

               by  Jeffrey Hanson

On the train platform
one thousand people
                       by  David Jisl

his voice stirs
the room

after all these years
the smile that brought the sun
...brings the sun

                      by R.D. Bailey

rain -
a strand of flooded canyons
catching the echo

channel of mist
among river reeds

a newborn creek

autumn wind
separating the chaff
rusty threshers

in a dank back closet
moss on unworn shoes

night’s void
in a stand of red twig
one dragon-root

a cat nap
on the sofa...

                       by Michael F. King

„Namaste!” I hear
in the silent night –
the nightingale

                    by  Patricia Lidia
as she turns to leave
my mother’s
girlish smile

Valley Micropress, June, 2010

lamp light
Buddha’s features

Kokako 13, 2010

droplets of dew
on six lettuce heads
- mother earth

scent of cat’s fur
on the sheets 

                      by  Anne Curran
after the rain
the echoing drips
of moonlight

bleeding their color
into dewdrops

our break up —
we run out
of petals to pluck

first published in Notes from the Gene, 
Issue 4 - March 2010

first day of summer ...
my poems of spring 
still linger 
in the breeze

silent night
he hears my heartbeat
...not my tears

                      by Raquel D. Bailey



Amy Winehouse...
her spinning record crackles
till sunset    

                       by R.D. Bailey

autumn drizzle
a wallah shakes
the orchid bouquet

winter rain
the urge to feel
the newborn

prayers for rain
a spider keeps
spinning its web

spring fever
she kisses her boy
all over

spring’s end
my infant fingers
the fallen petal

                   by Ramesh Anand

New moon
there she goes again
into her cocoon

Pisces husband--
only sea tones
my husband's shirts

                     by   Alexis Rotella

ox daisies 
growing between the sleepers
- summer rain

first frost - 
the buddleja 
bows out 

                        by Michael O'Brien

gentle, young man
two shades of lipstic
on one cheek 

a piece of rainbow
in the pond
within my reach

                        by Radhey Shiam [India]

sunset through trees-
with outstretched arms
their shadows dance

                        by Josh Bunin

her tongue ring...
all that is left
of my date

crickets chirping . . .
a bunch of blue-eyed boys tease
"Speakee Engrishee"

                       by Chen-ou Liu

in my sweater...

kicking rocks
I promise I wasn't
thinking of you...

sudden cold...
his kitten curls up
a little tighter

full moon...
I think I've shared 
too much of me

new moon
that dream...
where you don't appear

stuck in traffic
thunder rolls 

a playground..full of cold

                        by R.D. Bailey

early dawn—
morning glories
beginning to rise

the only thing
grandmother remembers …
cherry blossoms

floating in a cloud
of cherry blossoms—
pink balloons

                        by   Nancy Nitrio

fruitless tree
I think of nothing...
but you

that empty space...
tonight's stars
seem to fill
                       by R.D. Bailey

a string of berries
inside the palm
- her elegant neckline

                      by Anne Curran

cracks and cobwebs
all that's left
of our marriage

wind-chapped lips
and a red swollen nose -
he kisses me anyway
                      by Tracy Davidson (UK)
a single heron
disappears in the fog bank
winter solitude
                        by  Neal Whitman

autumn wind
the whole earth woven
into my hair

                         by Janet Lynn Davis
Toll of the bell --
where does
it end?
Cranking up
the dawn --

                          by   Alexis Rotella
play kitchen
a catkin
curling in rain broth 

saving the bison
for last
animal crackers 

coffee bar
a toddler nods
to her sippy cup 
slurping back
the first oyster
cold gust 

                       by William E. Cooper
at the feeder
a blue jay brushes off
the chickadees
small town -
through  snow
the cat knows  the way


the starlings rise
without shadows 
                      by Jerry Dreesen
childhood lullaby
unfurling memories
old blanket
                      by  Michael King

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