January & February 2019
Vol IV No I
Not your ordinary poetry magazine!
If good coffee (or just the concept of coffee), great books, sharp wit, and great authors excite you, we are for you!
Tip: if it is underlined it is a clickable link.
Note: drop downs from the menu below sometimes take a few seconds to load.
We have a new publishing schedule!
Haiku
with Kevin McLaughlin
Haiku / Juxtaposition / The Metaphysical Poets
From a classical viewpoint, the most elegant haiku are separated into two distinct segments. The two segments can be compared and contrasted, or they can be appreciated for a distant relationship they may share. Essentially broken into halves by a cutting word, a kireji, these haiku illustrate the metaphysical connection that runs through all entities.
Opossum ambles,
Back to its nest in the woods:
A donkey braying.
There is no conventional tie between these events. Yet, the donkey’s call affects how we see the opossum. It is bound together by the poetic force field. Some haiku may display two segments that are further apart than our donkey and lovable opossum. The connection may initially seem extreme to the reader.
Brownian movement,
Makes an atom’s path random:
Tree frogs bark at dawn.
Can there be a connection between atoms in flow and tree frogs? Absolutely. Both are part of our natural world. No matter how extreme the impression on the reader, the two elements are part of “the force that flows between all things.”
There is a danger to writing haiku that do not consist of these two segments, and it can be fatal to the significance of the verse. I have encountered it many times in both myself and others. Most three line poems I come across read like one sentence carved up, sometimes arbitrarily. That means the given haiku is really just the equivalent of a caption beneath a photograph. This is not poetry, nor is it a special moment of clarity.
Readers of this column interested in non-haiku may enjoy a loosely organized group from the 1700s known as “The Metaphysical poets.” This included John Donne, Andrew Marvell, and George Herbert. Frequently, they sought to yoke together the dissimilar elements of the Universe. They didn’t write haiku, but they shared in its spirit.
A snapping turtle:
The spike on its carapace,
Punctures the cosmos.
Kevin McLaughlin
Peggy Verrall lives in Monks Risborough, UK. She is a retired teacher with an exceptional appreciation for the Seasons. Her second poem relates the truth that even green shoots have to fight their way to the sun’s nourishment.
Birdsong and bluebells
Flooding through the fresh-leaved trees
Soft, spring scented air.
Green shoots are fighting
Through the frozen soil, for their
Place in the spring sun.
Peggy Verrall
Milton Ehrlich is an 87-year-old psychologist and a Korean War veteran who has been published in the Huffington Post and the New York Times.
A praying mantis
Snags a red salamander
Off a lily pad
A red-wing blackbird
Spreads her wings on a cattail
To protect her nest.
Milton Ehrlich
Dianne Moritz has just recently started writing haiku. She lives in Southampton, New York, a part of the world blessed with a large deer population.
cool forest floor
a deer curls up
naps in brown leaves
vast Montana sky
only stars to guide us through
the darkness
Dianne Moritz
Jack Maze is a Professor Emeritus of Botany at the University of British Columbia. What a feel for trees he has! It is as if sap runs along with blood in his veins.
little blue flowers
in a spring lawn
mower’s in for repairs
white magnolia petals
flutter in a breeze
one by one, they fall.
bundle of cherry flowers
compressed
into a raindrop
Jack Maze
Joseph Davidson returned to life’s original home—the Ocean. He sees his true nature in the interaction of surf, sand, and sky.
White gust shifting dunes,
Abandoned castles crumble:
Waves bringing more sand.
Sea oats dancing fast,
Waves crashing ever closer:
Flock of gulls head west.
(Magnificent juxtaposition.)
Joseph Davidson
Sravani Singampalli is a published writer from India. She is fond of house sparrows, drawing, and painting. Oh . . . she also writes beautiful haiku. So poignant! I would love to be able to read these in her native language.
twilight scenery
sometimes half
is beautiful
the wilted rose
still gives off strong fragrance
a widow
Sravani Singampalli
Linda M. Crate found BTS on Facebook. Ms. Crate seems to enjoy an extremely personal relationship with nature.
silver solemn moon
the tulip dreams, eyes closed
cold rain interrupts.
wind chimes clambering
unsettling flower secrets
midnight without moon.
creek stones shimmering
the whispered stones spill secrets
a golden sun laughs.
Linda M. Crate
Angie Davidson recently visited the White Sands Buddhist Center. Simply stated, she captured its essence.
Tree covering road
Walking down the Eightfold Path:
Giant white Buddha.
Angie Davidson
Mick Rose enjoys working his camera and eating pizza . . . sounds great to me. Mick also displays keen juxtaposition.
stark reef shatters hull
mere flotsam left to salvage . . .
in him she finds rest.
Mick Rose
Jerome Betts has submitted two haiku that appeal to visual sensation, and the first also invokes a pleasant aroma of cattle.
Rain-matted cattle
Stand in vapor-wreathed circles
Under trickling trees.
Late sun on the roof
Caught in roundels of lichen
Congeals to crazed gold.
Jerome Betts
Ray Spitzenberger is a Texan who has frequently made contributions to BTS. Once again, we welcome Mr. Spitzenberger to this column.
strange doings at the frog pond
gills become lungs
soon, new sounds
old weathered bridge
on a forgotten back road
creek runs underneath.
Ray Spitzenberger
Maria DePaul, based in Washington, DC, derives poetry from the urban landscape. Her third haiku is a thing of beauty . . . and conveys starkly animal peril.
Fawn on Metro track
Galloping toward escape
Spring exploration
River mists linger
Egrets alight onto reeds
Early Spring morning
Sultry Summer night
Raccoons take risks to forage
On city streetscapes
Maria DePaul
Gerard Sarnat has a delightfully offbeat way with words and verse. Dr. Sarnat was published in our previous column as well.
Sunbeams glance moonbeams
Dance waterfalls-trees and ferns
Infinite fractals.
Meditation’s life
Lifting at the gym-let go
Outside distractions.
Fab ability
To concentrate mind’s steady
Cravecravecraving.
Aspirational
Whole-hearted connectedness
Quick fully no strain?
Gerard Sarnat
Yet once more I encourage all haiku writers to share their work, their insights into the nature of all things, with fellow poets and BTS readers.
For those interested in haiku, I recommend you cast back into the BTS archives and reference the September 2016 column. It provides a pretty thorough explanation of the basic format.
- Kevin Mclaughlin
John Hawkhead has given us two haiku that deserve to be read at least twice in order for the reader to capture all of the nuances. John gives us the opportunity to remember that reading haiku is a skill. They are not meant to be skimmed through like many other forms.
placing the eel trap
into oil black waters
whispers through reeds
the fall of silence
in graduations of dusk
a nightjar’s first call
(Fine juxtaposition in both of these.)
John Hawkhead
Goran Gatalica from Croatia has degrees in both chemistry and physics from the University of Zagreb. My compliments, sir! And Mr. Gatalica writes beautiful haiku. It is interesting to note how many scientists also write haiku.
sudden flood
the roots of hydrangeas
cover my rock wall
autumn harvest
in our overgrown yards
mice squeaking
Goran Gatalica
Steve Denehan lives in Kildare, Ireland, with his wife and daughter. His second haiku combines beauty and wisdom.
behind me birds sing
in trees of empty branches
blossoms on the grass
we fall together
stones into a hidden lake
waiting to be found
Steve Denehan
Sarah Lybrand is a writer, producer, and poet. Aristotle’s ideal man could be alone, yet never lonesome. I believe Ms. Lybrand’s climber has a sense of that ideal.
lone mountain climber
finds solace in the climbing
climbs out of himself
on air-thirsty skin
the must of hot luscious milk
drinks the mosquito
Sarah Lybrand
Mary Spadoni, who resides in Astoria, New York, gives us a verse in which a fox takes a bride . . . most admirable!
Lanterns are hung as
rain falls from the cloudless sky
The fox takes a bride
Reach for the branch and
your fruit will shake itself free
Dragons lie in wait
A bird gently preens
and soft feathers fill the air
like warm summer snow.
(Usually I don’t publish haiku using similes, but the delightful contradiction of warm summer snow was irresistible.)
Mary Spadoni
Dan Cardoza has the versatility to envision both catfish and the stars.
Dew on a dawn leaf
snares a shiny universe
stars and moon complete.
Shiny catfish swim
through mirrored clouds that gather
rouge before the dawn.
Dan Cardoza
Aliyah Jackson displays the traits of a visionary in these two verse. Note Aliyah closely parallels the classical format.
From the secret pond
he looked beyond the peak
of each mountain top.
The gravel road home
swayed so heavily that the
trees forgot to stand.
Aliyah Jackson
Patricia Keely, with these contributions, is making her entry into the world of publishing her work. Welcome! This fine 71-year-old received her love of poetry from her husband. She writes that haiku flash through her mind.
Eyes of the Owl
Looking on begging owlets
In need of Mom’s hunt.
On top of a mountain
Two rainbows above a cloud
Much to my delight.
Pillow cloud drifting
Can I rest my head on you,
And fall into sleep.
Patricia Keely
Robert Beveridge makes noise (band camp) and publishes his poetry in Akron, Ohio. I was struck by the metaphysical beauty of his haiku. It is a pleasure to close out this month’s column with these exceptional pieces.
I stare into a
rose, blood red: Mishima
died for my sins
echoes of new love
trees listening to birdcalls
in the still forest
blue pagoda
cherry blossoms drip
April rain
Robert Beveridge