Shorts Page Nine
More accepted shorts (spacing difficulties and
possible duplications
day
moon
white
on the horizon
these hands
that
caressed so many loves
rest pale in my lap
accepted by Ribbons 2018
another
leaf
shrivels
and falls
I
wonder
if
he thought of me
as
his heart gave out
Pris
Campbell (FL)
Moonbathing
issue 15
even before
Accepted HF
I reach the next turn
—
wild lilacs
last bus accepted
HF
grilled pretzels with
mustard
and I forget
blues beat
accepted
HF
the bar’s door
Times Square
accepted HF
he pockets
his third wallet
Moonbathing, a journal of women's tanka is
just out.
Mine in the issue is
another leaf
shrivels and falls
i wonder
if he thought of me
when his heart gave out
Failed Haiku Jan 12019 issue below
Plus Mt Fuji haiga
antique
spoon...
someone else’s secrets
with our morning tea
ripened
plums —
the morning bluebirds
outrace my father
Dear
Pris,
Thank
you for sending tanka for red lights. I
am pleased to accept your poems below for the
June issue. If you have a better
footnote for your second tanka, please let me
know.
All
best regards,
Marilyn
imprisoned
in
this silent house
stars
once
wrote love songs
into
every footstep
tethered
to
my heeling* boat
the
moon
forms
a cradle for this night
when
seas are too rough
*leaning
or tipping under the influence of wind on
sails
one leaf falls
accepted Frameless Sky
December 2018
then another
so suddenly
we kiss in the wild burst
of sun and oak
revisiting
accepted
sonic Boom Dec 2018
the places I’ve lived...
sorries
come faster in reruns
and loving words easier
visiting hours
accepted Pulse oct 2018 for 2019
already the relatives
make their lists
nude hikers
accepted HF
suddenly, a fascination
with tree roots
overgrown meadow
Accepted HF
swarming honeybees drink
the last of summer
revisiting
accepted Sonic Boom Dec
2018
the places I’ve lived...
sorries
come faster in reruns
and loving words easier
Haiku Pond Academy Feb daily haiku
ebook from Feb 2018 entries
These were accepted
6:
thunder(storm)
rolling
clouds dolphins disappear mid
leap
hospital
clatter...
so
faint the sound
of
a mother’s cry
12:
sunset
sunset
. . .
sprinklers
pushing rainbows
across
the yard
15:
a safe place
curled
behind
barricaded
doors —
I
love you texts
26:
beach
moonlit
tideline a clam digs in
HF shore sense of touch July 2018
black cloud-line
already the scent of rain
clears the beach
hF train /subway windows haiku
call
almost home
Accepted!
her reflection checks itself
in the train window
HF sense of sound 2018. July
stolen kiss
one wave after another
slaps the shore
hFshore visual july 2018
mating season
the gator eyes me
from water’s edge
road
trip ...
the
turtle stops beside
a
Shell station
in
The Cicada's Cry 2018 Autumn
Edition.
———-
wild onions mother warned me about
men like him.
Frogpond Accepted Dec 2018
———-
bank drive-through
accepted
HF Windows
a disembodied voice
bounces my check
hospital window
accepted on HF windows
challenge May 2018
someone’s lipstick kiss
left on the pane
day
moon
accepted for
Ribbons 2018
white on the horizon
these hands
that
caressed so many loves
rest
pale now in my lap
Submitted to earthrise HSA
bird theme. Both posted
family gathering old
stories shared with the
leftovers.
accepted HSA
anthology jan 2018
birdbath filled
with yesterday’s songs
dawn’s greeting
—-
egrets
overtake our yard —
pink surrender
Train haiku on HF
website. June 2018
almost home
her reflection checks
itself
in the train window
Commended...green pencil
2018 contest
scattered sand..
baby sea turtles return
to the stars
Green tea Ito En. SECOND
PLACE 2018
sunrise
the night blooming
cactus
sheds its bees
Frogpond March 2018
submissions ready.
Sent March
1
2018
sixty years
...
his and her
walkers
almost
dawn...
accepted
cattails 2018
March
beyond the old
shade tree
fractured stars
Frameless Sky
fall2014
a lily
covered in ice
first freeze
caught me unaware
you
were already gone
cattails
2015
day
moon...
blue sky siphoned
from black
sunrise...
a line of gulls
pulling
the tide behind it
sandpipers
flee
north for the
summer
i release
the lines that
bind my heart
too closely to you
cattails
Spring 2015
cloaked
by clouds
that morphine moon
his essence
slip-slides each
night
back to Vietnam
a falling tide
sucks at the
shoreline
they speak
about war days now
lost
to the tug of
time.
Kernels
2015
passing
storm...
the pine tree
throws
its own shower
cattails
2015 two haibun
Raging seas have
surfed us faster
than anticipated
towards the buoy that marks the
long turn into
Atlantic City, New
Jersey. Turn too
soon and you hit
shoals. We had
planned our night
run to arrive mid
morning in order
to easily see this
crucial buoy. Now,
still dark, the
buoy sits in a sea
of 'experimental
buoys', lit up,
too, so that it
seems we are
sailing into a sky
of stars rather
than this dark,
frothing sea.
I quickly grab our
hand bearing
compass, get a
magnetic reading
on the fading
glimmer of our
last identified
buoy then read the
glow of light on
the distant shore
that is Atlantic
City, scrambling
below to chart
where the two
lines intersect--
our position. Time
is of the essence.
Back on the
pitching deck i
hold the compass
towards the course
I've drawn between
our location and
our coveted buoy,
pick out one faint
light among the
others and point.
'Are you sure?' R
says.
The only thing I'm
really sure of is
my pounding heart
but I say 'yes'.
Three hours later
we drop anchor in
Atlantic City
harbor and sleep
the day through.
casino lights
blink at the sun's
belly
groaning halyards
=============
We are in the
North Carolina
waterway now,
slowly moving
south from the
Chesapeake Bay, as
fall appears in
the tall trees
alongside us.
Albert and Suzanne
motor-sail in
front of us in the
only other boat
we've seen as
small as ours
since we left
Boston. The water
is calm so Albert
plays his fiddle,
foot guiding the
tiller, hair
brushing his
shoulders, while I
wash breakfast
dishes in a bucket
in our cockpit.
A huge power boat
races up, then
thrusts into
reverse to stop
beside us. The
passengers rush to
our side, cameras
clicking, until
they roar away
again, leaving our
boats rocking. I
wonder whose photo
albums we'll be
in, how many
viewers will later
say, 'how quaint'.
a log floats
beneath the jet's
contrails...
somewhere a song
Skylark
Spring 2015
crows
fill
the afternoon
skyline
that storm
in your eyes when
I ask
unbidden questions
thirty years past
measured by birds'
flights
kissing me
once for the good
days
at my goodbye door
arrowheads
from old battles
buried
beneath yet
another mall
dead before its
time
thorned
roses
braided through
her hair
the bloom
in her cheeks
deepens
with my lover's
glance
Pris Campbell
USA
accepted
cattails
spring/summer
2015
gardenias
open to the red
dawn
carry me back
to white beside
white,
Vietnam hovering
Pris Campbell
accepted
Moonbathing
Spring/summer
2015
USA
Falling
Sky Fall 2015
mother
scissors
him from each
photo
frozen
in time
I stand by the
black hole
that once sucked
my heart away
Skylark Feb 2016
another
star.
birthed in the
north sky
such wonders
clustered
above our
heads
while we
sighed over
Elvis
Hedgerow
Feb 8, 2016
a cross
sears the
moonless night
my southern
childhood
sheep
in the
road...
where were you
last night
when I needed
you?
glass
slippers
displayed in the
pawn shop -
hard times
Pulse Journal in
2016
falling leaves
the bald
children laugh
at a clown
Tanka Time 2018 Winners
First Place
dirt-caked shoes
still sit in the garage
we savor
the last yield of his garden
almost as a prayer
Pris Campbell
Lake Worth, Fl USA
——-
creaking
floorboards
she returns to him
in every room
=
light on the water a sailor's
tremulous chanty
night train
my dead uncle punches
tickets to my dreams
twilight...
the bluebird's last song falls
from the trees
Above
three in Under the Basho
off-shore
stars I thought I made up
in childhood
Frogpond
IV drip
throughout the night
gentle rain
Simply
Haiku
just
the cock's
yellow beak crowing-
barely dawn
Simply
Haiku
spring
planting
a bee sings
in my mouth
World
Haiku Review
a
seagull ...
lifting the sun
with its wings
thunderstorm
the moth beats shadows
into the ceiling
The above two in A Hundred
Gourds December 2013
Betrayal
I
took great care to check out a new
therapist, since past therapists
had initiated affairs. In
my naiveté, thinking them gods,
hoping they could make gold out of
my straw, I acquiesced. I
share my seduction saga with this
man who assures me he would never
go down the road the others took.
When
I weep over my lost husband, he
edges closer. I think he plans to
comfort me, but, suddenly, both
breasts are in his hands, my head
forced back in a kiss.
I
shove him away and rush out,
leaving him next to my abandoned
chair.
our
house
still
empty at sunset
my
unfed cat
Haibun
Today 2018
mid-afternoon
I stop surf gazing
to type this haiku
Brass Bell, December 2017
the fragile line.
where sky meets sea
misted over now
that space where we met
to share tales told to no other
shuffling
through.
forgotten
photos
not until now
could I see how much
leaving must have hurt you
Hedgerow Dec 2017
Once
Upon A Time
In
those days before my memory
began, Mother took me in her
belly to the small southern
school where she taught
first grad. But, as
summer break neared, I
began to kick fiercely,
stopping only when she
gathered her students in a
circle for story time each
day. This fascination lasted
throughout a bout of croup
in early infancy when she
discovered that rocking,
burping, patting, and
walking me back and forth did
nothing. In desperation she
decided to tell me a
story. As soon as the words
"once upon a time"
left her mouth I
stopped crying, and we
survived the long nights in
peace, until all was
well again.
baby
bluebird
deep in the nest...
passing storm
HSA Southern Anthology 2017
thunderclaps
surround the house
his temper
becomes a tempest
carrying me away
Moonbathing 2017
blue moon...
Elvis dolls still swivel
at Graceland
audiologist day...
birds sing a different song
for you
seaside...
the gulls and I fight
over lunch
booming thunder...
even my stuffed pup
howls in the night
Hitchcock reruns...
crows gather one by one
on the drive-in fence
All of the above:
Failed Haiku Spring 2017
waves pound outside
our secret hideaway
our shadows
merge on the sandy floor
making music only we hear
Frameless Sky Spring 2017
family gathering old stories shared
with the leftovers.
HSA anthology 2017
my toni doll —
that same red dress
for sixty years
Brass Bell 2017
overgrown yard —
his dog still waits
by the door
what
he feels
skimming the pond...
clouds pretending
to be ducks
Failed Haiku
April 2017
.
old ducks out back
chase off the new ducks
I intrude
into a male profession
upsetting the pecking order
grad school break...
yet another lover
in Kansas
Above in Wild Voices Issue Two 2017
Haiku Pond Academy Feb daily haiku ebook
from Feb 2018 entries
These were accepted
6:
thunder(storm)
rolling
clouds dolphins disappear mid leap
hospital
clatter...
so
faint the sound
of
a mother’s cry
12:
sunset
sunset
. . .
sprinklers
pushing rainbows
across
the yard
15:
a safe place
curled
behind
barricaded
doors —
I
love you texts
26:
beach
moonlit
tideline a clam digs in
———————————
Commented on HF shore sense of taste July
2018
aloha oe...
slowly steamed lau lau’s
laced with sadness
Even
not knowing that the first line is the
title of a song, the reader may be moved
by a sense of loss here – a parting, and
possibly a death – as many know that
‘aloha’ can mean hello or goodbye…
after some research (including listening
to the song, and learning about the native
Hawaiian dish lau lau) the poem simply
gets better…
HF shore sense of touch July 2018
black cloud-line
already the scent of rain
clears the beach
HF sense of sound 2018. July
stolen kiss.
one wave after another
slaps the shore
hF shore visual July 2018
mating season
the gator eyes me
from water’s edge
road
trip ...
the
turtle stops beside
a
Shell station
in
The Cicada's Cry 2018 Autumn Edition.
bank
drive-through
accepted HF
Windows
a disembodied voice
bounces my check
hospital
window
accepted
on HF windows challenge May 2018
someone’s lipstick kiss
left on the pane
day
moon
accepted for
Ribbons 2018
white on the horizon
these hands
that
caressed so many loves
rest
pale now in my lap
family gathering old stories
shared with the leftovers
HSA anthology January 2018
Submitted to earthrise bird theme
2018. Both posted
birdbath filled
with yesterday’s songs
dawn’s greeting
—-
egrets
overtake our yard —
pink surrender
Commended
green pencil 2018
contest
scattered sand...
baby sea turtles return
Congratulation!
Your haiku is selected as
a March Ito-en semi-finalist.
.
mourners
in black...
shadows bury shadows
among the pines
ーPris
Campbell, FL
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