23.4.26

Five Haiku by Joshua St. Claire

Snow Haiku

 

the way

the sun is white

snowfield 

 

altostratus radiatus

snow drifting

where the aster were

 

nightsnow

for a few moments

the real Earth

 

white doe

snowmelt reveals

cirrus clouds

 

blue returning to blue snowshadow 

 

snow coming

two crows at play

in the east wind

 

cirrus vertebratus

the stillness below

the endless snow

 

lilac and cyan

endless altocumulus

over the snowfield

 

spreading cirrostratus

the white pine’s shadow

greys the snow

 

cirrus spissatus

the many deerpaths

through old snow

 

the greyness of the linden

over the greyness of its shadow

snow coming

 

the white pines continuing to become snow on the horizon

 

Blue Haiku

 

the sky yellows the land blues winter distance

 

les effets de soir

deeper into the blue

of night jasmine

 

the way the spruce is blue stratocumulus

 

long dawn the scent of blueness across the mountain deathcamas

 

out

of metaphors

summer blues

 

the white pine lavenders the blue hour

 

altostratus undulatus

the blue curves

of the Appalachians

 

the sun on the black vulture blue of pineshadow

 

blue also a color of deepening autumn

 

steel clouds the green for now of blue mountain

 

worm’s cry

altostratus clouds break

to show the blue

 

first asters the fog pouring over blue mountain

 

endless blue breaking the symmetry a sparrow

 

stratocumulus over snow

the blue spruces

continue to blue

 

Atlantic Haiku

 

a rising moon disappears into the cloud edge of the Atlantic 

 

leaning away

from the voice of the Atlantic

live oaks

 

deep within the throat of the oleander Atlantic evening

 

behind the scent

of the Atlantic

altostratus moon

 

listening for them

in the voice of the Atlantic

lost poems

 

an impasto of turquoise moon on the Atlantic

 

nightwaves passing through the moon edge of the Atlantic

 

altocumulus moon

the sound of blue

whips the Atlantic

 

Atlantic night

the wind brings in

the scent of indigo

 

Atlantic gale

a gestural abstraction

of blue

 

the shape of the Atlantic wind brown pelicans

 

seventeen brown pelicans

against the stratocumulus

Atlantic afternoon

 

Mountain Haiku

 

from this mountain

all mountains

lavender altostratus

 

big rigs

cumulus clouds pouring

over the mountains

 

low stratus squeezing them out of long mountain fireflies

 

downpour

the time it takes to make a mountain

dust

 

camera obscura

the sun sketching clouds

on long mountain

 

long mountain’s clouds

filling the Susquehanna Water Gap

mayflies

 

hazy mountain

the long journey

back home

 

the ages until their summits meet the white pines the blue mountain

 

second sky

the mountain swathed

in haze

 

polygons of sun

descend long mountain

clouds in the north wind

 

stratocumulus dawn

a patch of winter green

on long mountain 

 

Moon Haiku

 

altostratus clouds

erase the day moon

long mountain

 

altostratus distance

the cyan seas

of the day moon

 

how could I

quit you

Flower Moon

 

pulling on

Ophelia’s robes

the moon at dusk

 

against the editor’s

strict instructions

Flower Moon

 

on our backs moonlight

 

every color but black moonlight over the Atlantic 

 

cirrostratus moon

a late ibis

crossing over 

 

the eleven infoldings of the altostratus moon snail

 

red moon

on the dunes

oleander

 

moonlight shattering as I crumble into the sheets

 

staring back at me

at 4:00AM

perfect moon

 

between the moon

and me

Planck’s length

 

18.3.26

Two Poems by Wim Coleman

Beacon

 

They say you can see

futility from space—

the flickering

bioluminescent SOS

of a solitary storm cloud

bursting over

an infinite ocean.

 

 

A Passion

 

In the old woman’s

airtight home (which

she never left except

to go to church) our

druggist savior forever

stretched his arms

in benign and ruined

ransom across the

living room wall above

worshipping masses of

medicine bottles.

 


Wim Coleman

15.3.26

Four Poems by Mark Young

Fallen from the time line

 

Assailed by birds of various

colors, time slips out of my

grasp. I try to join the birds,

but whatever color I had has

faded & I am seen as an inter-

loper. I cry out to them but

they ignore me, do not recog-

nize my language. They turn

 

on me. My eyes go first, then

my tongue. I no longer know

what day it is, cannot call out

or hold time back. Somewhere

in the inner ear, I hear time

rushing rapidly away from me.

 

 

contretemps

 

Shooting the brisé, but then

it all went to shit. Jumped

off one foot, beat the legs to-

gether; & then the room was

filled with Shakespeare folios,

 

each clamoring for some time

on stage. Comes a plié, & all

the wannabees crawl back

between the legs & those knees

aligned with toes & vanish

 

from the stage. Save one, who

looks for an audience that isn't

there so orates towards the dark

at the back of the room: "My

liege, I did deny no prisoners."

 

 

 A line from Ludwig Wittgenstein

 

Dante, lost in a dark place, Hell &

its circles. Rescued from there by

Virgil. Later guided through Para-

dise by his muse Beatrice. The tree

 

Petrarch in Hell because his muse

was unattainable, already married.

Laura. She died before him. Now

grief replaces despair. no longer

 

Eurydice, wife of Orpheus, bitten

by a snake, his music escorting her

back from Hell, until he turned to

look at her. Finis. bending, breaks.

 

 

stargazing

 

I am sitting on

the back deck

watching the total

eclipse of the moon

 

& am reminded of

how Diogenes is

supposed to have

reprimanded Alex-

 

ander the Great for

standing between

him & the sun, which

then, in the manner

 

of planetary motion,

makes me think that

if Diogenes had been

persuaded to give up

 

his barrel & take up

a post as Comptroller

of Celestial Bodies, he

might have ordered

 

the Earth not to come

between the moon &

the sun, & occlusion

would never occur.