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

 

 

 

Afternoon of July 26, 2025

 

Goldilocks world

stripped of minerals

and bombed to hell

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

the gesture

was a fatal mistake

road rage

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

New Mexico

the mere suggestion

of stop signs

~Scott Wiggerman

air strikes

a supercut

of silences

~Bipasha Majumder (De)

cadaver planet

small creatures run

where builders strode

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

Rope Swing

The man on the rope swing

casts off from shore,

disappears in fog

caressing the river

as we listen

for a splash

or the rope to return

with or without him.

~Diane Webster

flea market

an old uncle's photograph—

perhaps

~Scott Wiggerman

lips not moving

the ventriloquist

in his coffin

~John J. Dunphy

a woman walks

through marigolds

vanishes with them

~Tejendra Sherchan

 

trampled ferns

the unfinished story

of the old factory

~Boryana Boteva

trickle of water

from the gutter

AC leak

~Scott Wiggerman

third wheel

wordless dictionaries —

silent talks, 

glances that converse; 

none —

just third, at a table for two

~Allen David Simon

morning rainbow—

all things I can't keep

~Fatma Zohra Habis

morning frost

blowing hot air

on the window

my finger-drawn heart

sheds a tear

~Fatma Zohra Habis

nightmare...awakening

trapped in a void

waiting for the key

~Sherri J Moye-Dombrosky

through shotgun holes

on the Jesus Saves billboard

glint of stars

~Scott Wiggerman

сommunism for the well-fed

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

Litter Falling

The slab of peeling

paint and rust

stands like a painting

hung in the forest

of autumn leaves

littering each other

fall after fall.

~Diane Webster

I Was a Cat

In my past life, I was a cat.

When it’s hot, I want nothing more than to drop onto the cool floor and stretch out.

When it’s cold, I want to cuddle up in a warm blanket and sleep all day.

If I don’t want to be touched, beware...I bite.

If I do want attention, I pester him to get off his computer.

Yesterday, I craved salmon, which I devoured within seconds. 

Today, I felt the temptation to follow him to the "powder room."

Perhaps, I am still a cat?

~Sherri J Moye-Dombrosky

the cat yowls in triumph

for she has slain and dragged upstairs

another pair of underwear

~Noah Berlatsky

 

 

Open All of July

Seashores Haiku Journal

https://www.haikuspirit.org/seashores.html

Frogpond Journal

https://www.hsa-haiku.org/frogpond/submissions.html

First Frost

https://www.firstfrostpoetry.com/submit

 

 

 

The Solitary Daisy (Open for about a week)

Editors would like to hear from poets who have never been published in

The Solitary Daisy before. The theme is open; editors like a seasonal

reference (and a bit of a surprise). Send one or two haiku to Sally at

sally_quon@yahoo.com or to Michele at kelownalady@hotmail.com.

Include your location.