XIX:3 October, 2004

A Journal for Linking Poets   

MAY IN A VASE by master poet, Alec Finlay, host poet, Gerry Loose, Co-ordinator, Alex Hodby, Sheila Butterworth, Lilli Broduer, David Fine, Amy Gott, Morven Gregor, David Lewis, Helen Lucy Pheby, Beth Rowson, Josie Walsh

WALKING BACKWARDS by master poet, Alec Finlay, host poet, Felicity Manning, co-ordinator, Beth Rowson, Anne-Marie Culhane, Stephen Watts, Elisabeth Sutherland, Tom Richardson, Frieda White, Tim Tunley, Shirley Ross, Amanda Ravetz.

HAH HE SAID by Jim Leftwich & John M. Bennett

HOT by Jim Leftwich & John M. Bennett

DUNK by Jim Leftwich & John M. Bennett

A BLOOMING ORCHARD by Silva Ley & Jacques Verhoeven

THE TALL BARN by Silva Ley & Jacques Verhoeven

FORLORN IN THE FIELDS by Silva Ley & Jacques Verhoeven

IN LOVE WITH A STRANGER by Betty Kaplan & Max Verhart

POUNDING OF THE AUTUMN SEA at Monterey Dunes, California led by Patricia J. Machmiller 

LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL by Tomislav Mareti & Karina Klesko 

THE SUN COMES IN by Marlene Mountain &
Francine Porad

Marlene Mountain & Francine Porad

WHO'S READING THIS by Marlene Mountain & Sheila Windsor

Francine Porad & Marlene Mountain

GADGETS by Francine Porad & Marlene Mountain

Patricia Prime & Catherine Mair

Patricia Prime & Ron Moss

THE KEEPER OF TWO DOORS by James Joyce & Werner Reichhold

THE SKY FULL OF STARS by Sprite, John R. Snyder, Karina Klesko, John Carley 

SLEEPY TIME by Max Verhart & Betty Kaplan

WITH STICKS AND DOGS by Sheila Windsor &  Marlene Mountain

THE JUDGE ASKS by Sheila Windsor, 
Marlene Mountain,
Cindy Tebo

RED STEER by sheila windsor & ron moss

FIRE AND BRIMSTONE by sheila windsor & ron moss

SONG IN THE GAPS by sheila windsor & ron moss

A SNAKE SKIN IN THE CANOE by sheila windsor, cindy tebo, karina klesko


master poet, Alec Finlay
host poet, Gerry Loose
Co-ordinator, Alex Hodby
Sheila Butterworth
Lilli Broduer
David Fine
Amy Gott
Morven Gregor
David Lewis
Helen Lucy Pheby
Beth Rowson
Josie Walsh

Passed behind us
as we go
shared giggles, goose grass

   bracketed between parents
   three goslings

a family picnic
green fly
on the cups

   the girl yells
   I’m just pretending

over the hill
gently breathing
another mirage

   petroleum torches
   jets rumble on

scanning night sky
for the plough -
taste of ginger

   consumed with a touch
   the stolen recipe

used over years
until perfected
or cast aside

   house keys collect
   on her chain

she’s fumbling
for the catch
in the moon

   lost in cataract eyes
   ripe for treatment

steamed windows
the jams cool
in jars

   thumping the piano wildly
   the cat runs

first frosts
mean retuning
playing the blues

   to the end of the year
   boom boom boom boom!

what was that?
what was that?
noticing the holes in my sock

   the first mushrooms
   with a little garlic

birthday breakfast
on a tray
May in a vase

   the breeze whispers
   turn your face to the sun.

a nijuuin renga in the season of Spring Yorkshire Sculpture Park, West Bretton     May 23, 2004


master poet, Alec Finlay
host poet, Felicity Manning
co-ordinator, Beth Rowson
Anne-Marie Culhane
Stephen Watts
Elisabeth Sutherland
Tom Richardson
Frieda White
Tim Tunley
Shirley Ross
Amanda Ravetz

yellow cups, oyster catchers
a fuss goes up
in the set aside

   by a gate marked private
   she crouches among thistles

sharp in the reflecting pool
half a moon
fish slip into shadows

   still pulses
   the last blackbird

singing laburnum
drop poison pods
where children play

   running in small circles
   with arms outstretched

kalashnikovs raised
bare feet
disturb the dust

   blown angels
   letters in a tin

vowels swim in linseed
shape and snap
on our tongue

   apple jelly smeared over peanut butter
   mother’s one caress

flesh from the gourd
the emptied shell
makes music

   gives warmth, latitude
   the sun turns inward

under the bench
cracked water melon seeds
night begins to bleed

   the soft order of quilts
   marshall my dream

in the nebulous
vapours form
a flake of snow

   wraiths will melt
   revealing fur and bone

knives and forks
on either side
of mismatched plates

   we catch our breath
   and turn over the earth

a million flowers
by a path of stone

   sure of the way
   the poet walks backwards.


Jim Leftwich
John M. Bennett

hah he said
said he nope
bask he said
said he listing
tore he said
said he cut
rubber he said
said he drop
should he said
said he gravel
corner he said
said he corner
gravel he said
said he should
drop he said
said he rubber
cut he said
said he tore
listing he said
said he bask
nope he said
said he hah


Jim Leftwich
John M. Bennett

hot, cat, but
cot ,bin ,get

pin, set, at
pit ,when ,met

pet, spin, cut
sot ,limb ,net

bit, pot, that
fat ,put ,mat

then, bet, knot
shut ,drat ,got



Jim Leftwich
John M. Bennett

dunk it and

flop it and

flay it and

ply it and

gush it and

plash it and

inch it and




Silva Ley
Jacques Verhoeven


A white poplar lane
bending with the curve
of old vested rights

a hint of blossoms
in the outskirts
of the village

apple trees
in a crumpled orchard
hide the house

a shade of branches
moves and plays
on the windows

the squatting doors
small shutters
deep under the roof

a rim of moss
round the water well
a smell of un - use

seeds in the barn -
on the empty fields
an ancient longing

red floor tiles
lead to the darkness
of a dusty fireplace

a vein system
of black beams crosses
the white walls

one moment
in a wave of sun
the room enlightens

a strong young couple
is living here
they smile us out

working in town
every night they return
to their forefathers’ realm.


Silva Ley
Jacques Verhoeven


A smell of hay
darkness under the roof
of an immense barn

scratched in the crossbeams:
forenames of farm hands
a lay out of lines
up to high in the ridge
indestructible oaks

passing hands still stroke
the deep trenches

the loft is empty now
the floor scrubbed clean
till owls will be nesting

small attic windows
carve the light, the times

stable doors hang crooking
in iron joints
in human lives

the mangers put outside
full of summer flowers

the yard disappears
in a winding border
to vanished dreams

grain was the ancient gold
memory honoured.


Silva Ley
Jacques Verhoeven

Village Zeeland

a poor crofter’s dwelling
free for the wind

a carpenter bought it
between dream and action

he used the old bricks
counted one by one
measures the origin

iron anchors in the walls
the cross stones, the bows

a thatched roof as a fur
on both sides finished
in a solid ‘wolfs end’

all around the house
a gravel border

to absorb rain and moist -
under the gutter
a decorating row

of diagonal bricks
called ‘mouse teeth’

in the yard behind
a walnut tree
to keep out the flies.

in the stable the noise
of impatient horses

a burst of laughter
from the house
a child’s voice

growing up in a scenery
of farmer’s wisdom.



Betty Kaplan
Max Verhart

moon close to venus
a time for all lovers
starlit night                      

do they match, she wonders,
our signs of the zodiac        

she studies feng shui,
turns the room around -
the doorbell rings

both in the garden
and her belly    

in love with a stranger -
yet he walks by her       

she wakes up
clutching her pillow     

5-7 June 2004


October 26, 2002
Monterey Dunes, California
led by Patricia J. Machmiller (pjm)

silently we begin
just now I notice the pounding
of the autumn sea

                                             donnalynn chase

through the clean windows we watch
the dunes go to seed

                                           donnalynn / pjm

blowing on my tea
already astringent shade
has colored the moon

                                             Roger Abe

sprinklers on the broccoli
the odor fills the air

                                              Carolyn Fitz

blue lace curtains
make soft patterns on the wall
afternoon nap

                                             Carol Steele

ay, Chihuahua
it’s hot as hell

                                          Alison Woolpert

she paces the boardwalk
cell phone cradled close
to her drumming heart

                                            Roger Abe

he told her he dreamed of her
next to him again

                                            donnalynn chase

tickles on my back
I awaken
to such ecstasy

                                         Carolyn Fitz

with extra special flowers
will she rent the office suite?

                                       Carol Steele

"fasten your seatbelts"
visit to the Space Station
on the IMAX shuttle

                                       Alison Woolpert

two times yesterday
I was called a warrior

                                     donnalynn chase

December moon…
to rock on the deck
like Whistler’s mother

                                       Carolyn Fitz

the dog shifts duck feathers
to the other side of his mouth

                                    Roger Abe

Simon or Davis
will I vote
like my tin knocker dad?

                                  donnalynn chase

out come the recipes
Grandmother’s handwriting

                                   Alison Woolpert

first cherry blossoms
lit by neon
sneak preview

                                  Carol Steel & Co.

chirp of tree frogs
she doesn’t realize she is missed


the dried footprints
on the mountain trail
days lengthen

-                                 Carolyn Fitz

she says she’s grown up now
first period

                                Carolyn Fitz

the entire classroom
looks quizzical


when will he find out
I bought tickets to China?

                               donnalynn chase

for her choice to be female
prayers for rain

                              Roger Abe

remember the precepts
and let the silverfish go

                             donnalynn chase

medical alert
after blood transfusions watch
for West Nile virus

                               Carol Steele

she introduces her father
to her new boyfriend, Mohammed

                              Roger Abe

honeymooners’ groans
through the hotel walls
4am and still no sleep

                            donnalynn chase

chocolate calligraphy
melts on his lover’s body

                           Carolyn Fitz

moon if this were
our last night
how long I would watch!

                           Alison Woolpert

persimmon juice on her chin
my delighted granddaughter

                          Carol Steele

a baseball championship
the mayor’s new suit

                       Roger Abe

the trumpet races
while Ella sings scat

                         Alison Woolpert

I buy a bucket of worms
from the boy’s street stand
don’t know why

                         Carolyn Fitz

fifty years as a queen
and still loved by her subjects

                        Roger Abe

frail blossoms
an elderly couple skips
in sturdy shoes

                      Alison Woolpert

Peace March in the city
the emerging leaves

                       Carolyn Fitz


Tomislav Mareti, Zagreb (Vrapche) Croatia
Karina Klesko, Louisiana, USA

humid night-
in the quiet market square
only the cats play

down the mississippi
thousands of stars blink

sweatin' jazz
laissez les bon temps rouler*
New Orleans style

under the street lamp
fingering fills and runs**
a hat full of change

creeping along the balconies
"Keyhole Blues!***

out of the shadows
a lone clear trumpet-
"ohhh yeah. . . "#

*laissez les bon temps rouler'let the good times roll
**fingering fills and runs...strings...
*** Keyhole Blues by Louis Armstrong
# at the end of a lot of his performances…his last words..."oh yeah, ain’t that wonderful" trademark voice.



probably 2 'real' renga sorta  #11
Marlene Mountain
Francine Porad

new ceramic heaters the power goes out the sun comes in

sweater-bundled as usual house in the suburbs

'female impersonator' on tv too fancy until a knife appears

good manners do not include homicide

in symbolic terms red may become as damaged as black

Carl Bernstein lectures on Watergate scandal


women's homeless shelter volunteers answer the call

bent down by the snow bamboo hardly grown

almost overlooked on the windowsill chalky sand dollars

for the well-off the economy well-off

comparing bottom lines of Form 1040 for 2002 and 2003

juncos slip in and out of everywhere

ovarian cancer the dark center of her patchwork quilt

troubled even through the art flicks

eyes forced awake by the blaring 'groovy Scooby-Doo'

so few on the ark how did the harem theory start

an old joke: Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?

oh the moon to colonize who's the tyrant now


tomatoes in foreign space canned or frozen or neon blue

mussels and their beards wrap a piece of driftwood

neatly-turned whistler till dubya's 'missionaries' get done

a flag tops the sand castle moat fills with sea water

drained from the day i'll give it another chance tomorrow

calendar packed with notes empty suitcase

rain that didn't show up along with a wandering ladybug

political news not who to vote for but what to wear

to marry off each poor earthling or send her off to mars

a good man is hard to find but with Rover...

tracks gone warm as grass reappears in a flattened green

winter spring summer and fall writing haiku


familiar contest poems not only the idea but the words too

a gag order imposed but the air full of leaks

Michael Jackson due in court for the alleged molestation

from mother to grandson marble tops & cupids

ornate frames hold a red-haired doll and my little-girl photos

a rebirth into the shallow arms of matisse

Jan 12-16, 2004


probably 2 'real' renga sorta  #13
Marlene Mountain
Francine Porad

unbrushed hair unraked leaves undropped the other shoe

orders from the 'higher chain of command'

throughout all the world 'moral authority' run rampant

son's promotion a secret temporarily

i sneak past mud purple irises kissed the stolen yellows

romantic rerun of An Affair To Remember


changes in thought patterns due to aging tested by U of W

'al jazeera' on the net bored it's non-spin

sweet smelling alyssum does not have 'hidden roots of evil'

out of their winter bed tadpoles and restless

great odds great sex ninety-nine out of a hundred times

men's fear of men women clothed head to tip-toe

startled by the daddy long legs skittering across the room

open doors for the 2nd time a wren flits in

anti-US protest streets filled with many thousands of Cubans

16m     no 'god' to love no 'god' to love me spring dawn

Classic IQ Test suggests I could be a writer or a painter

here he goes a haiku boss out to out art again


the seventeenth-year cicada well i don't think they're ugly

photo carried until 'Is he much younger than you?'

after the talking head's rambling quickly only 10 seconds left

such a fuss over punctuation 'A Pain in the Colon'*

a two-toned red hot poker to be a hollow with a mist to be

on an archeological dig the palaces of Jericho

the sky full of noise a 'sundance' film warns of 'mild violence'

how to clean up what's seen and heard in public

to detainee bodies rumsfeld's clandestine 'do what you want'**

Bush and Kerry both courting the swing votes

lead by my nose to the milkweeds a long time before a bloom

barren land turned into a garden


wet paintings spread over table and floor I may switch to collage

60s slides of rust has each rusted in cardboard boxes

joy of apartment living the super called to come fix the pipes

thru part of a house thru part of a window the moon

a butterfly! the fortune teller speaks of a yet-to-be love

last year's cayenne peppers way overdue

* London Times columnist Rod Liddle, former BBC radio news editor
**Seymour Hersh in 'The New Yorker' re the defense secretary

May 12-16, 2004


Marlene Mountain           
Sheila Windsor

who's reading this poem is haiku a watch-word for spooks

howl in the night there's only me

the owl sculpture/eye 'shevinity' a big part of home life

fish net his alter ego

'9/11 commission' the spin begins by 'wrongwinger' nit-wits

the blue planet i hear it hums

thunder rolls in with a bit of rain unrolls out to a quieter place

chalk face the geisha

beneath the pond's surface the better part of the newt


tennis men pajama-looking women half-naked

groomed and ready to meet he brings condoms and sweets

i need a 'bubble head' to match the rest

they keep trying to 'reach' him the autistic boy with the smile

a wren sings as if ok is better than ok

'retail therapy' not for me i'll take the garden and jasmine tea

that moon talk a stop for gas/food/lodging

breakfast in my hand a small green scowling pumped-up man

chain-link fence w/barbed-wire for the protesters *

his new old flares i think they might once have been mine

for the hummers a watermelon rind the crows

beyond your knowing beneath your feet a gaggle of giggling rats

nothing to say pundits trash the next first woman

graduation day 'thatcher's children' maybe but they look good to me

my way of learning the journey of unlearning

words in a bottle swept out to sea a loneliness no-one can fathom

old springbox stuff in it that ought not to be

double double toil and.... a fitful tossing turning kinda sleep**


nightmares no match for the dawn

if an election of erections rewins i'm heading out for for for

stand up night it's finishing that's hard

on their own to suck down their own leaves purple irises

under stone wiggly and white

heaviness in the air full of trees and cicada shells

pining for love fingers a donut

wrapped in the flag 'their' rights family values & stem cells

for her return the light


*a cage on the grounds of the democratic convention in boston/america
not gitmo/cuba
**double double toil and trouble - macbeth

july 22-31 2004


probably 2 'real' renga sorta  #12
Francine Porad
Marlene Mountain

though not much to say a fresh start slowly filling the blank page

now that i can go i don't wanna go anywhere

47,000 troops get called up for a year in Iraq surge in violence

for the prison guards men forced to masturbate

probes into mistreatment by those few 'rotten apples'

a perfect purple tops a perfect green stem


a wren intent on nest-building intent on way too many ideas

at day's end home sweet home

pills to take away the pain but not what really hurts

two editors of the same journal respond: no

wanted or not daylily leaves then blooms then matted roots

1 I need a chair pad to sit and enjoy the primroses

committee upon committee upon committee will the buck stop

free shopping coupons you can print from your computer

in the old days a smith-corona clacked out the 'unaloud haiku'

morning traffic the usual birds unseen unheard

inactive the world passes by in bits and pieces of c-span

channel switching I watch four TV programs at once


Mother's Day lineup if not today when? the close ones arrive

back to my uncomfortable comfort zone

soothing Posturepedic mattress beneath the puffy quilt

brief landing a swallowtail flits off in a fit of joy

smiling faces on the brochure about medicare-plus

if you-know-who's for stuff i'm automatically not

gone over once again anecdotes about his foolish ex-spouse

i could write a book that i could never write

another W-2 for 2003 an amended 1040 to be mailed

are we in watergate or vietnam or both

changes made I thank God every day that I am an American

border crossing hummers to the sweet things


how deep is the spring that flows 1200 feet to early coffee

cell phone cameras in the least-likely places

if it lasts over four hours see the doctor of male enhancement

diagnosis: chronic non-suppurative destructive cholangitis*

debris melted within dirt melts a heart remains dirt of a mind

sudden rain pounding the sundeck

* technically correct and ponderous term for PBC – Primary Billiary Cirrhosis

May 4-12, 2004


probably 2 'real' renga sorta  #14
Francine Porad
Marlene Mountain

  gadgets here gadgets there two-in-one DVD/VCR on its way

fire extinguisher in plain sight if i could work it

competence not measured by the new SAT changes expected

great instincts butterflies to sweet williams

same-sex marriage license given in Massachusetts crowd pleaser

little boy with a big stuffed toy walks from his dead home


thunderstorm an inch from the window spooked satellite dish

no let up an Iraqi bomb with nerve gas explodes

fight refight rerefight rererefight rerererefight rererererefight

I snub the news sketch a bouquet

mid-afternoon after a written haiku i believe i'll crash again

screech of brakes how many near-misses

100 billion dollars a year just waiting to happen striped violets

stock market something else to ignore

more bulldozers clear more room on the 'road to peace'

country lane sun brings out trees' long shadows

native geraniums by the woodshed wren nestlings within

twittering above the garage ceiling pipes


'...don't get around much anymore' low mileage on an old car

would art in asheville blow my mind

a promise to myself to look only look at Mexican trinkets

my son says what to toss out not knowing

hold over from childhood he mechanically removes the garbage

'despicable' 'nonhuman' 'thugs' released in droves

AOL Help can't in that world political culture tries to rule

yesterday i decided today i undecided

my financial company has changed but not my broker

founding fathers' in masonic values we trust

statistically a higher quality of life Judaism's disciples

devastation in gaza bright red


  seeds of white cukes still in white papers in a white pail

huge bucket of washing powder reordered

parliament session protest condoms of cornstarch at tony

creative switch pitching paint not words

all japanese crow poems linked to all japanese crow poems

vacation plans my plants travel to my neighbor

May 16- 20, 2004



Patricia Prime
Catherine Mair

jogging along the river bank dog and owner

not a leaf yet - cold afternoon

trapped in the rushes a child's rubber duck

discussing the old landing - in Japanese

behind the mountains the first hint of a cloud

stranger - we compare notes on canine behaviour

preening itself on the signboard - the seagull

carved sea elephant - its highly polished back

side by side on the jetty children fishing

long cast - sunlight catches the flying sinker

baiting her hook - the ducks' inspection

adjusting her wristwatch - waiting mother



Patricia Prime
Ron Moss

autumn gold –
on the polished table
zespri fruit

morning walk
Japanese Maple leaves
on our shoes

another grey
added to the homeless dog
bitter daybreak

empty farmhouse
the weatherboard's peel
a setting sun

in a bamboo box
a lunchtime treat
salmon sushi

crushed mint
the breath again
of simmering peas

pine log
felled in a storm
burns in the grate

cusp of moon
the dark lake
settles into sleep


A multi-genre installation
James Joyce
Werner Reichhold


(About the structure of a beam continuously be lengthened and clay birds taking flight)

Hightime is up be it down into ours according


bride-luck the shifting of shaking shambolic


park's acoo with sucking loves Rosimund's by her wishing well


the book of skinheads swallowed one picture of two heirs


in the house of breathings lies that word all fairness


so cheesed in the pharynx of a Burgerqueen


the permission of overalls with the cooperation of night-shirt


she's an elf for English as she was a seven-by-the-teen


how they succeed by courting daylight in saving darkness


the evil of axes leaking oil


our thirty minutes wars alull


overgrown milestone in its own snake hole

the toy that shall claxonise his whereabouts


godfather's mini-nukes pass through the custom


where flesh becomes word and silents selfloud


(Shifting scenery: After death your identity may have to respond to stimuli of which you have a chance to get a foretaste now.)

knock  knock
wars where
which war

whooveropium smells
the hord a step sideways

on the bunk of bread
winning lies the corpse
of our seedfather

harvesting naked

takes back
her folded files

the slender by the walks
way through the creek

at her proper mitts
if she then
the then that matters

gnostophonically tuned
in church? No
Mr. Bish hopps into jail

the lunger it takes
the sooner they tumble two

the way I think
of floating time

the swayful pathway of the dragonfly
spider stay still in reedery

global warming
the siren yells
global cooling

spell me the chimes
they are tales all tolled


(Attempts against steeling our historic presence from the past postpropheticals.)

Unclean you art not. Outcaste thou are not.
                  Leperstower, the karman's loki, has not blanched at our pollution and your intercourse at ninety legsplits does not defile.
                  Untouchable is not the scarecrown is on you. You are pure.
                                                                                        You are pure. You are in your purity. You have not brought stinking members into the house of Amanti.                                                                   Ellem Inam, Titep Notep
                                                                  we name them to the Hall of Honour.
                                                                             Your head has been touched
by the god Ennel-Rah and your face has been brightened by the goddess

Faithlifters say charismaticans appear in glass-mobiles.
                                                         Maya sends Mia
headfront down the temple for indulgence by the meter-man's oracle.
                                                       Tableau! Tantra & Chiropractic,
                                                        turbulance, tabularasa, tick-of-teck
                                                       but  fine alley tete-a-tete: how quallcomic
he chews on his sandwitch, how netescaped she giggles whisperushing her teenaddress:                                <>


(When the appropriate wave of the unseen laps upon the shore of possibility, and more than two patterns are moving at a time.)

how all so still she lay
neath of the whitehorn
child of tree
like some losthappy leaf

much to foretel
much with no consequences
breath sailing through
its own attention

wind broke it
wave bore it
reed wrote of it
Syke ran with
hand tore and wild went war

shell shaped sway
as if wishes follow
the night-view of an oyster
the kind that hosts in ripples
a soft lip's storm

terror of the nonstruck by day
cryptogam of each nightly bridable
game here endeth
the curtain drops
by deep request

seems to be mutating
as on early waves
stand still        orange
evening behind blinds
in  your mirror

pfall if you but will
rise you must
for the nod of the nabir
is better than wink
to wabsanties'

merely electric
one hand in the first room
of a beach castle

(The lines of James Joyce are taken from his book Finnegans Wake)
"The Keeper of Two Doors" was first published with Lost And Found Times, June 2004, Publisher John M. Bennet.



John R. Snyder
Karina Klesko
John Carley - sabaki

the sky full of stars
a hundred different ways
to spell 'Rudolph'                                    john e carley

on each side of the gate
a snow angel                                          karina klesko

what if there were
a cat in every window
just for effect                                           john r snyder

his e-mail arrives
with a burst of cymbals                         sprite

no sun today
except for a daffodil
on the hill                                                 karina

a row of tongues
await the wafer's touch                           jec

in Knossos too
the pillars of the temple
tumbled down                                         sprite

half man half beast
a slave to this desire                              jrs

our summer love
plays on the jukebox
bittersweet and strange                        karina

back from Iraq
he's grown three inches                         jrs

magic mushrooms
form a circle
softly now the moon                               jec

a toast of cider
in the amber dusk                                 sprite

composed via email on The Renkujin Palace
begun 21/12/03 completed 05/01/04


Max Verhart
Betty Kaplan

dozed off on the beach
the rising tide calls me back
to the present                        

     yesterday's dreams disappear
     the morning sun wakes anew          

sunny day -
on the windowsill
a yawning cat            

   just listening
   to the pitter-patter -
   rainy afternoon        

furniture heaven -
a young couple testing beds     

     snuggled in . . .
     favorite good night story
     sleepy time!         

2-5 juni 2004



Sheila Windsor   
Marlene Mountain

wildflower meadow with sticks and dogs they search the long grass

the old mossy bridge older tomorrow

this morning's morning glory a little deeper purple each dying breath

rooted in the land circles of rusting art

rain rain and more rain the tortoise comes out yawns goes in

no channel on gardening repeated ads and news


billions & billions of dollars and counting dubya told it's hundreds

sleep pods the price of a nap

day after day world sex trade what does the little girl get in return

rent boy they don't see his eyes

'weapons of mass destruction' no arms in the armless soldier

cnd badge blowing away the dust*


a break in the cloud something for the sunflower to look up to

reflected in the pond is my image still there

dragonfly carrying sky and when you think where it came from

around cucumber plants wormy rotting hay

grandad's old garden shed only the bindweed to hold it

a lizard erodes up the eroding cliff


treason falls from a senator's lips those two liars above us all

post hutton tony clings to his post

malescholarshit includes arkeology manthology masterfragment **

punkchewAshun diss cuss shun blah

corruption america israel palestine who's religious now or ever

world bank which world


yards and yards of tarmac yet the daisy made it through

mother nature's gullywash 'my' rocks to her creek

christmas the allotment pine dewy draped with spider's silk

mist in the valley though 'nothing special' it is

grandma's roses black and white the black all faded grey

bit by bit the daylily drop-off


a god's armageddon the neocons would die to make it happen now***

2000 in the end it came and went

on the horizon in a white hat on a white horse a haiku inspector

heavy breather she blows the whistle

1st moon walk celebration i close my mind before i can open my eyes

a chimp a child and one too many breaks

*campaign for nuclear disarmament
**words from 'shetrillogy'
*** short for neo-conservatives

june 15-21 2004



Sheila Windsor
Marlene Mountain
Cindy Tebo

summer rain the judge asks saddam for his mother's name /s

dubya's higher father of all dubya's wars /m

a bush in bullshit the double 'l' for double lies /c

taleban gone burqa on /s

the irony berlin wall takes irony root irony israel /m

hells bells another catholic church for sale /c

not wishing to swear in company he calls his wife a witch /s

passed past daylilies worldly testosterone /m

h g wells 21st century in the fohg of victory the invisible victims /c


sudan sudan sudan is exactly where /m

dandelion clock blow by blow what makes men tick /s

new savings and loan not one tree saved /c

proposal amendment 1 of each = marriage the record straight /m

sad eyes saying he's gay /s

kitchen clean up between dish towels a leaflet on depression /c

roadside emissions the blues of chicory make do /m

gothic doorway something half eaten clings to the moon /s

'look don't touch' the pipe organ stalactites /c


venus fly trap snaps shut on an indeterminate muffled buzz /s

smoke-filled bar the e_it sign missing the x /c

bad & good news terrorists about ready then we can believe it /m

so many alerts we switch off /s

not just a mariner's tale the rogue waves taller and realer than paul bunyan /c*

bunched up for a photo-op world males who fuck our earth /m

'sexism and the city' another woman up against the glass ceiling /s

wanted by the armed forces america's youth /c

which doctors will fax which info to the next doctor who am i /m


form after form are you sure you're insured /c

the hole in a hepworth frames a child's passing face /s**

empty notebook for the red ink of a faded rose /m

all the way home a paper crane in the hands of its creator /c

'final demands' the suicide letter /s

if i could have said stop just before cicadas brought the heat /m

raining harder the heron stays on its rock /c

christ 2000 years after christ she's stoned for being /s

find a philosophy that's equal /m

*Rogue waves are giant waves that were once thought to be a mariner's tale but have been verified by satellite images
** barbara hepworth/sculptor


sheila windsor
ron moss

 how shall i bear it
this calla lily's beauty
lightly cupped
when my heart aches
with yearning for his love

the old dingy
splendid in flaky red paint
we loved its feel
i rowed us into the moon
and the dance of phosphorus
Salome. . . .
the priest's pupils
in remembrance
of his dream

the 'red steer' quietened
fire-fighters travel home
with their stories
he smiles at the sound of rain
and takes her in his arms

at a window
table for one, she shapes
to walk the corridors
of your mind . .

    against the wall
the street-sweeper dreams
his shadow, empty . . .
the memory of her
still gnaws at his chest

sheila windsor
ron moss

painting into night moon on moon

a wave breaks     slipping again     into darkness

beyond the reach of sunlight creatures only dreamed

abandoned drive-in     a line of bull ants     clog the speaker

hyde park corner fire and brimstone mist the air

heat wave the cricket spectators clap in paddling pools

stony ground the daisy made it

fine spices       the indian restaurant's      warming smell

almost christmas saddam helps us out of a hole

pot black final blue chalk on his new bow-tie

not enough brooms to go round the crucible

car crash a trapped man's life in other hands

between floors the lift        stops . . .

outback road a hitchhiker shimmers

rainbow bubbles into cloud

art class today's colours still in her hair

on the tip of his tongue . . . my dragonfly tattoo

digging for shells w! et sand in our ears

immaculate conception in the bin a mutilated woman*

falling down        a blind man checks his glasses . . .


sheila windsor
ron moss

 twilight . . .
a blackbird tugs a worm
through wet grass

rusted weather-cock
slips the rising moon

a shy glance
towards the royal box
blushing swan

pub closing time
terraced houses light up
starlings in the roof gutter

city graveyard
a robin's song in the gaps

working lunch
seagulls tear at bread
between calls



sheila windsor
cindy tebo
karina klesko

sunrise through a gap
in the morning glory, cat's eyes       sw

17 pages missing
from dad's journal
we take turns filling in
the possibilities                                 ct

bloody knife
black deep into night
starfrost swirls
his pane, where sunflowers
are ochre and he plucked them
from the gutter                                  sw

up and down stairs of ambiguity
petals of a rose unfurling its scent   kk

mother wears her bra
on the outside of her blouse
with a big smile
she asks my name
as I look like the girl
in the picture on the wall                    kk

tropical pet shop
grand opening
the owner's snapshot
of a fake palm tree                            ct

last week's fishing report recycled
a snake skin in the canoe                 ct

the devil peeps over
batman's right shoulder
while a beautiful lady winks
bedroom curtains                             sw

those dark dreams
hanging from his chain
decades of skeleton keys
I put two shiny quarters
in the nickelodeon
"Heaven Can Wait"                         kk


  Submission  Procedures

Who We Are

Deadline for your collaborative poems for the next issue is
January 1, 2005

  Poems and comments Copyright © Designated Authors 2004.
Page Copyright©  Jane Reichhold 2004.

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