The Wheel

Were their lives prearranged, I wonder? But how might that be possible? I may or may not fear the truth. Actually, I don't feel much of anything at all. Not anymore.

Our fate, for that matter, may have been sealed eons ago, the turn of some monolithic cosmic wheel the deciding factor. But, where's the point in dawdling in such metaphysical claptrap? Yet I still can't deny I saw something when, in that brief moment, I studied her closely for the first time.

She was so young - in appearance, at least. Her face, set just so, affecting an innocence that mirrored the little boy's perfect features exactly. Once she became aware I was watching, I doubt anything missed her attention, the corners of her mouth curling, jawline raised ever so slightly to expose her flawless throat ... for a moment I imagined she meant to offer it to me, like ripe fruit for the taking. "This can't be," I thought, my cheeks flushed and hot. "What the Hell am I thinking?"

I hadn't looked away, however. My eyes were captured by hers - blue, crystalline, inescapable - no shame or remorse laid there. But there it was again! I couldn't be so sure. Was this some sort of clever deceit? Nearly imperceptible - though I knew I had aroused it - an intuition, conjured from deep within her most intimate and revealing feature, consciousness, beyond her years, or even mine. An expectation perhaps, belying calm wisdom and yet an awful knowing. Clumsily, I turned aside, made some excuse and walked away. Yes. I was certain now.



autumn crows
languidly inspecting
the old school ground



;;;

hats

the closest
I'll ever be
to sentimental
a room full of hats


;;;


New Resonance 9

 

Tito on Mt. Ogura

Jane Singer Photos



From the Japan Times:


http://www.japantimes.co.jp/text/fl20111022a1.html



". . . man's a force of nature . . . literally" - Melissa Allen


:::

October 2011 Dottie Dot Awards

Dottie, the mascot and editor-in-chief of the Haiku Bandit Society, has determined the three best Moon Viewing Party poems for the month of October, 2011.

Forthwith, here, in order of their appearance, are the recipients of this month's Dottie Dot Awards!


To view previous month's winners click here.






evening tryst…
who invited the man
in the moon

melissa allen









drunken lorikeets
falling about
the mango moon

Barbara A. Taylor









birthday moon
as on his first day
the naked truth

sprite





;;;

September 2011 Dottie Dot Awards

.

Dottie, the mascot and editor-in-chief of the Haiku Bandit Society, has determined the three best Moon Viewing Party poems for the month of September, 2011.

Forthwith, here, in order of their appearance, are the recipients of this month's Dottie Dot Awards!


To view previous month's winners click here.









moonviewing
nobody shows up
but the moon

Pamela A. Babusci









under a waxing harvest moon
in a field of crickets
a man talking to himself

Tito









somehow
our shrinking shadows touch--
harvest moon

Alegria Imperial






.

Best Wishes

.

A birthday wish to our dear Anthony.

May you have many happy returns, you dissident bastard!




.

September 2011 Moon Viewing Party

.

softly

we mount the icy stair --

moonlight

darkest in its depths

lightens our cautious step

****************************************************************************


You are cordially invited to our ninth moon viewing party of 2011!
The full moon rises Monday, September 12th, GMT.

To submit a poem (each submission remains the property of its author)
you may email us here: HAIKU BANDIT SOCIETY or post in comments.

Please include your pen name so we might accredit your poem properly. Happy moon gazing!



To see previous month's moon poems click here.


****************************************************************************







moonviewing
nobody shows up
but the moon

Pamela A. Babusci









another full moon
the same old
love affair

pat nelson








under a waxing harvest moon
in a field of crickets
a man talking to himself

Tito








harvest moon --
wishing for it to fall
butter side up

Melissa Allen










harvest moon
I knead the bread on
grandma’s board

Vida









this pumpkin
as full as that, harvest
moon

Angie Werren








resilient moon
beams of hope and strength
on two blue columns

Barbara A. Taylor








silver moon
through autumn leaves
wallpaper

rick daddario









US Open
auntie sam wants you…
powering Pisces moon

Barbara A. Taylor








match point
the distance between
this moon and that

sanjuktaa









The full moon sets
as the sun rises
I face north
to follow a highway
a line on the earth
to separate seasons

maikindazen








a correspondence
til the end of my days
to the one
with whom I'm smitten
harvest moon

slow-is-fast








Full moon
Blowing past
In the gale

Brian Pike








somehow
our shrinking shadows touch--
harvest moon

Alegria Imperial








full September moon
shining into my room
love dreams

Adelaide B. Shaw




.

River Town

harvest moon
halcyon days
in rivertown


.

Hard Times (redux)

  The supermarket's parking lot is only half full, cars and trucks clustered nearest the entrance, some rusty, older models on their last legs before a final journey to the scrapyard. They disgorge single mothers with scads of flustered children into the litter and detritus accumulated there, too daunting for an apathetic staff to keep up with. Heat shimmer rises from the pitted asphalt in waves - causing me to blink, and, feeling slightly dizzy - 

I imagine myself some sort of ominous bird soaring high above this scene, looking down on a checkerboard of white stripes and streetlamps, over the hot tar roofs, empty lots, the gas stations and rubble of defunct factories, land become idle, until the entire image takes on the orderliness of a hand sewn quilt thrown across the somnolent form of a great prairie, its amber grasses bent by breaths of wind that could sweep an entire continent clean.


hard times --
 a mob of crows
worrying road kill

;;;

.

Golden Years

.



“Cabin fever come to its fruition – almost lost my head to the Empress this morning – the sky is falling down as rain, the snow has melted, and the Mississippi is about to consume the town, if not the entire world.

References to ‘magic lanterns’, ‘floating worlds’ and ‘backwards tintypes’ are applaudable, in my skewed view. Yet, should we go out on a ‘celebratory note’? Nothing but gut to go on from here of late, mate."




golden years
loose change in a jar
on top the 'fridge


.

Lottie Trude

.



My Daddy didn’t dowse water. He drummed up advertising clients for that local news weekly. Mrs. Lottie Trude, that little old lady from Texas who helped raise me when I was a little boy could. She kept a black widow in a jar for us to recognize, too, warned us to beware of snakes, not to eat the red berries and she'd wield a fly swatter ‘cross my backside when I was bad.

She carved "little" people's faces out of green apples, set them aside to dry, wrinkled and wizened, made lifelike with age, bodies clad in overalls and house frocks handmade. There were entire little families fashioned out of that county's namesake clay in Missouri, too. All her subjects were country people, folk art, from before the war, some of it, some as far back as the Depression, an America depicted of rural people who relied on the land. She had a statue of liberty, the Eiffel Tower, Popeye, Olive Oil, and Sweet Pea, too.

She had a garden patch in the back of her acre lot, and a small, ramshackle house built into the hill before the city got big. We rented upstairs, she preferring the lower level's cool confines. I walked a mile every day to school. We'd go to a country store for supplies and she always bought me some kind of a treat. I fell off the deck once, got stuck by a nail. Mrs. Trude fixed me up. Other times we'd run around the house a few laps until the hurt wore off. Sometimes the blue jays would chase us, or the chiggers would catch us rolling in the grass, sweaty from play. In the height of summer the earth would crack, it was so hot. In some places, the fissures so deep, we'd drop a pebble in and wonder if it fell all the way to China.

A pair of black walnuts flourished in that ground, with deep roots, strong enough to withstand tornadoes that roared through. Late in the season, their unripened fruit lay all about, emitting an aroma piercing as the katydid's call. We would gather them, sticky and cloying, fingers stained the same as a grasshopper would trying to get away. Those days, so long, they seemed never to end. At least until your name was called and you'd run, dodging lightening bugs, into your bath and your bed to dream of things that had gone before.



so very long ago
` in language meant for a child
I can hear their voices,
` the tang of green walnuts
the depth of red clay




.

.

closing time
this silence gives
the flower thief pause




.

August 2011 Dottie Dot Awards

.

Dottie, the mascot and editor-in-chief of the Haiku Bandit Society, has determined the three best Moon Viewing Party poems for the month of August, 2011.

Forthwith, here, in order of their appearance, are the recipients of this month's Dottie Dot Awards!


To view previous month's winners click here.







moon rabbit
among the summer stars
my birth year tattoo


rick daddario







wet behind the ears still the moon tonight

sanjuktaa








sleepy in the morning
the moon-viewer
and the grass where he was

Vida



.

.

Tibetan Monk Dies of Self-Immolation In Protest



.

Bon Dance

.





a different shadow
with each turn of the lantern
bon dance





.

.

so daunting
this stream of consciousness -
forgotten to breathe

.

.

.

July 2011 Dottie Dot Awards

.

Dottie, the mascot and editor-in-chief of the Haiku Bandit Society, has determined the three best Moon Viewing Party poems for the month of July, 2011.

Forthwith, here are the recipients of this month's Dottie Dot Awards!


To view previous month's winners click here.







muggy night
spitting watermelon seeds
at the full moon

pat nelson







cloud-smudged moon -
a breath
on the mirror

sanjuktaa







another day of rain
through the full moon
another night of rain

sprite



.

yotsumono

.

No. 4

heat wave
reading a classic novel
that bores me

a little family
fashioned out of clay

this is the last time
I’ll give in to your request
for fried eggs

she takes a drag
off my last Pall Mall


melissa, willie, melissa, willie


.

yotsumono

.

No. 3

summer moon
coaxing from memory
the shape of her face

a Cubist painting
hanging crooked

only to discover
a stain
on his old school tie

the flame shared
between pieces of kindling


willie, melissa, willie, melissa


.

yotsumono

.

No. 2


drifting clouds
all day drinking
from one tall glass

on a dare, naked,
into the lake

train whistles -
I can't reveal
my true motivation

the hobo's sign
etched in packed snow


melissa, willie, melissa, willie



.

yotsumono

.

No. 1

tendrils of ivy -
I think I'll paint
my mailbox blue

she moves the snake away
from the garden hose

an uninvited guest
is knocking
at the door

one last question
before the storm begins



willie, melissa, willie, melissa

Thanks to Melissa Allen



' The Yotsumono is a four verse sequence for two voices.'

.

.

ivy's thin tendrils-
I think I'll paint my mail box
blue



.

June 2011 Dottie Dot Awards

.

.

Dottie, the mascot and editor-in-chief of the Haiku Bandit Society, has determined the three best Moon Viewing Party poems for the month of June, 2011.

Forthwith, here are the recipients of this month's Dottie Dot Awards!


To view previous month's winners click here.






moonlit
the silence
of fishermen

comrade harps






grandmother moon
I can’t help wishing
for a gold tooth like hers

Melissa Allen






the ball kicked
higher and higher -
muddy moon

sanjuktaa



.

Cities of Green Leaves Ginko no Kukai

.

















a bounty gathered
in the grocery sack
new green leaves



Tonight is our deadline for submissions to Cities of Green Leaves Ginko no Kukai. You may send your poems HERE, and then expect a return mailing of the page of all participants numbered and anonymous offers to vote on.
Choose your three favorites: 3 points for first, 2 for second, and 1 for third. We'll post the results when we have received all your responses.
In addition, I'll attempt to post a reader's poll of the verse's to vote on. Good luck!
Thank you for your kind-hearted consideration for your contributions to our charitable sites in aid of the people of the Tohoku region of Japan. I've posted the list again below.



Charitable Donations


Architecture for Humanity

Japanese Red Cross Society

Ngo Jen Official Website

Salvation Army in Japan


.