Morning of August 9, 2025


 

another whiskey . . .

let the truth

come out

~Oscar Luparia




so many

tin foil hats

this year

~dan smith




only the word apple ripens no orchards

~Vijay Prasad




precisely, fireflies are irradiant insects.

~Gretchen VanOstrand




exploding anger volcanic eruptions

~Tejendra Sherchan




nodding as he tonsures his lawn

~Helen Buckingham




kids in Trump masks

parents in Maga caps

extortion 101

~dan smith




bomb

bomb

bomb

satellite of blood


(after Lou Reed)

~Helen Buckingham




bombings

(very) old poems

seem so new

they were asleep during that time

I didn't know, they say

~Marie Derley




night journey

little insects die

on the windscreen

how many of our dreams

die when the day dawns

~Marie Derley




Teapot shakes

In sunlit hands

Of the morning

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




Haunting eyes

Look up from black lace

Unmasking the moon

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




the air feels

like a warm bath

inside the sky

~Jennifer Gurney




I catch a whiff of BBQ

and miss you so much it hurts

right in the rib eye

~Jennifer Gurney




beautiful

as long as

he's just

in three-quarter

profile

~Nicholas De Marino




No matter how much plastic piles up

a planet will never twinkle.

~Nicholas De Marino




green brocade trifle

and lavender taffeta affidavit

~Nicholas De Marino

 


Afternoon of August 7, 2025

 


 

The last book my dad read

was a biography of Neville Chamberlain.

I wish he’d finished it.

I wish he hadn’t finished.

~Noah Berlatsky




running my finger

on old dents

strawberry moon

~Jiel Narvekar




summer vacation

spending time

with the dentist

~Patricia Carragon




water under the bridge

          being swept away

by the flood

~John J. Dunphy




summer haze

a concealed coot

finds its way

~Gareth Nurden




reflections

filling a lido

summer sun

~Gareth Nurden




in the garden

the rose bush explodes with life

your last words to me

~Jennifer Gurney




closet space

full of your absence

~Anne Fox




in other people’s windows         

a glimpse

of myself

~Anne Fox




the self-help manual

all out of ink

autumn drizzle

~Joanna Ashwell





puddle rainbows another splash back to Kansas

~Joanna Ashwell




another month the hostages still not home

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




alter ego i get sucked into a black hole

~Mona Bedi




into the afterlife a shaman’s promise

~Mona Bedi




tv news some hostages we know by name

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




saturn that parent who mixes up his kids' names

~Martina Matijević




2 hours

up the gravel road

lost

in the right direction

~Belinda Behne




as society

crashes around us

smh

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




Pin the tail

On the donkey

My back patch

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




infinite regress

she takes a selfie

with the Mona Lisa

~Joshua St. Claire




corporate training

the meticulously made materials

I’ll never look at again

~Joshua St. Claire




we all have

a tragic backstory

indigo plums

~Joshua St. Claire

 

 


Afternoon of August 6, 2025


 

steps off the path

the hope a first mushroom

brings

~Randy Brooks




doublespeak . . .

getting old living through

1984 again

~Randy Brooks




stranger in a strange land

the trout rainbow

over me

~Randy Brooks




hamburger diner

each customer perched on

their own pedestal

~Randy Brooks




pluto

exiled from solar system

still orbiting the sun

~Tejendra Sherchan




meteor shower

        brushing the 

sand off 

       a mermaid’s purse

~Stephen Toft




only my cat hears them

                                        falling stars

~Stephen Toft




day moon i thought you were dead butterfly

~Stephen Toft




final insult

plastic roses

on her grave

~Wanda Amos




dusk

her fear of  shadows …

sun-downing

~Wanda Amos




My ox won’t plow this

field where buffalo leapt

through flowers and fell.

~Terry Trowbridge




A healing and

appealing ion

might let one

seal     achieve

sea-lion status

~Charles A. Perrone




Bleak truth:

the envelope

is too small.

~Noah Berlatsky




green screams    the ninety-sixth name of God

~Richard Magahiz




the edges

of the frame things with

candy corn eyes

~Richard Magahiz




cries of RTs

the sun heating up

each chassis

~Richard Magahiz




the icy salt water

the spill of spiderflesh

~Richard Magahiz




Children are afraid that someone will knock on their window at night. Old people are

afraid that no one will ever knock on their door again.

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

 

 

 

                 Our store is open:

https://www.zazzle.com/store/five_fleas

Morning of August 3, 2025

 

 

 

 

What Lines?

~Kelly Sauvage Moyer




 

 

 

 

 

 

when the strings

are pulled

he comes to life

and dances:

the wooden politician


~
Mark Gilbert




cicadas

political pundits

reach fever pitch

~Douglas J. Lanzo




sticking my nose in a few political uncertainties


~
Roberta Beach Jacobson




# 1 way to tell

you are part of a criminal enterprise

whistleblowers called snitches


~dan smith




false memories

of nonchalant beetles

and murders

committed by

nobody……….


~
Mark Gilbert




in the dark

the rhythmic thunder

of eyelash

on pillowcase

buffed and rebuffed


~
Mark Gilbert




Missing

 

Hunkered down in bed, I adjust my pillow,

finally ready for that book I’ve been so eagerly

anticipating, only to find page one                              .


~
Scott C. Holstad




damn sure feels like a prose poem


~
Scott C. Holstad




invisible fuxxed secret codez – another diluted found pome


they are praying for me now

demons merely posing as angels

trembling under the weight of the word

musta been screaming when they got hit

replaceable deviance not in control


~
Scott C. Holstad




a butterfly suffering from cold -

in a refugee camp a child shivers


~Paul Callus




a stray dog wails

in the wee hours

darkness swallows it


~Tejendra Sherchan




last leaf

this desire to become

the moon


~Debarati Sen




road puddles

doing enough to host

croaking frogs


~Tejendra Sherchan




The ambulance


Come soon even on a rainy evening

but never rush to death.


~Partha Sarkar




dead cockroach

its antennae

still flashing


~Tejendra Sherchan




Fahrenheit

 

telling me

the temperature

outside his window

and how to convert it

and who has died


~
Mark Gilbert




pill bottle warning

not to be taken

seriously


~M. R. Pelletier




our world

a net negative

for earth


~M. R. Pelletier




waking inside a sentence meant for the Other


~Vijay Prasad




holy holy holy

the unsullied flesh

of a rutabaga


~Kelly Sauvage Moyer




two-factor authentication

downloading . . .

the key to consciousness


~Kelly Sauvage Moyer




perennial bed

the joy of deadheading

lovers for stew


~Kelly Sauvage Moyer




Journals open for submissions in August


Acorn Haiku / Chrysanthemum / Enchanted Garden (coffee or tea poems) 
 

/ Haiku Girl Summer (only Aug 1-15) / Kingfisher / tinywords

 

 


Morning of July 30, 2025

 


 

diamond rains in neptune my failure to fly

~Tejendra Sherchan




she wants him to find another book club, quick-ly

~Patrick Sweeney




loneliness epidemic as second covid

~Martina Matijević




most of the day barefoot and mystified

~Patrick Sweeney



the failed voice from locked lungs of a room

~Vijay Prasad




The roof of your mouth

is actually a ceiling.

~Nicholas De Marino




if I could get 'round that last integral sign

before another pear

sucker-punches the roof

~Patrick Sweeney




holding an umbrella

the shadow of a shadow

eclipses a moon

~Elliot Diamond




can of worms

Warhol's soul

the first one out

~Vishal Prabhu




my quantum poetry

so Einsteinian

relatively

~dan smith





flute recital

an ant journeys

up my leg

~Neena Singh




Sliding Acrostic


     Death

    dEath

  deAth

 deaTh

deatH

~Nicholas De Marino




greetings

to the cockroaches

post-war

~Oliver Kleyer




proclaiming

a general amnesty

resetting the chess board

~Oliver Kleyer




potter's field

all the grave flowers dead

from weedkiller

~John J. Dunphy




hospice haiku

every poem

a one-liner

~John J. Dunphy




say, whatever happened to all those lighthearted spots

when the smiling local reporters

fried an egg on the sidewalk

~Patrick Sweeney




with a six-hundred-million-year-old smile

he wants to be reborn

a sea apple

~Patrick Sweeney

 

 

Open All of July and August

acorn haiku: https://www.acornhaiku.com/submissions