An Esoteriku by Sarah Mahina Calvello

a sky stricken with stars puts me in my place

~

Sarah Mahina Calvello lives in San Francisco and writes mostly haiku. She loves nature and is addicted to coffee. https://heyyouhaiku.blogspot.com/?m=1

An Esoteriku by Rowan Beckett Minor

smoke rising
from bundled rosemary
mid-summer heat

~

Rowan Beckett Minor (they/them) is a disabled Melungeon poet and hoodoo practitioner from Prince, WV, who currently resides in Cleveland, OH. They have been featured in:  Mayfly, A New Resonance 12, as a confluence journal Fellow (2024-2025), as a presenter for Haiku North America (2019, 2021), and co-judge for the HSA Brady Senryu Contest (2022). Rowan is honored to have served as HSA Midwest Regional Coordinator in 2024.

An Esoteriku by Tom Bierovic

lingering incense—
the last bell
a cricket's chirp

~

Tom Bierovic is a devoted writer of haiku, senryu, and tanka poetry. When not reading or writing, he enjoys playing backgammon, playing Native American flutes and Irish whistles, and drumming on bongos and djembe. Tom and his wife Laurie make their home in DeLand, Florida.

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

this close to Johnny Cash
when my brother Franky gave away
his turtle soup recipe

An Esoteriku by Randy Brooks

tonight's new moon
the bullfrog's
one note samba

~

Randy Brooks is Professor of English Emeritus at Millikin University, where he teaches a haiku course. Randy and Shirley Brooks are publishers of Brooks Books and co-editors of Mayfly haiku magazine. His most recent publication is HAIKU DECK which features 52 haiku, one each for card. See the web page https://www.brooksbookshaiku.com/Brooks-HaikuDeck.html 

A Visual Poem by Laszlo Aranyi

 

~

Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon) poet, visual poet, anarchist, occultist from Hungary. Earlier books:  (szellem)válaszok, A Nap és Holderők egyensúlya, Kiterített rókabőr. His poems in English have appeared in over a hundred journals. His new books are:  Delirium & . . . The Seven Haiku (published by DEAD MAN'S PRESS INK, ALBANY, NY 2023), Sacred anarchy! Poems and Visual Poems (Nut Hole Publishing 2024), The Temple of Confrontation (DunapArt Publishing, Hungary, 2026), Lady Buddha (O:JA&L / aRt journal, Montana, USA, 2026). He has been nominated several times for international awards. Known spiritualist mediums, art and explores the relationship between magic.

"Confession" by Colleen M. Farrelly

Confession

I believe in the father-
less, the motherless, the sons
now raised by ghouls and ghosts—

the ones who shun cloaked ghosts
and rap about their father
issues—and the ones whose sons

escape the jails and drugs, sons
who study—and write white ghosts
they know from present fathers . . .

shriving pew the Father's godson a bedsheet ghost

~

Colleen M. Farrelly is a mathematician and haibun poet who's been exploring the universe through mathematics and physics since childhood. She's an amalgam of mystic Jewish/Catholic traditions and mathematician-philosophers like Blaise Pascal, with a deep appreciation for meditation and what she learned about public health and spiritual health from South African village shamans in the mid-2000s.

An Esoteriku by Sarah Mahina Calvello

amidst the ruins I begin

~

Sarah Mahina Calvello lives in San Francisco and writes mostly haiku. She loves nature and is addicted to coffee. https://heyyouhaiku.blogspot.com/?m=1

A Visual Poem by Laszlo Aranyi

 

~

Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon) poet, visual poet, anarchist, occultist from Hungary. Earlier books:  (szellem)válaszok, A Nap és Holderők egyensúlya, Kiterített rókabőr. His poems in English have appeared in over a hundred journals. His new books are:  Delirium & . . . The Seven Haiku (published by DEAD MAN'S PRESS INK ALBANY, NY 2023), Sacred Anarchy! Poems and Visual Poems (Nut Hole Publishing 2024), The Temple of Confrontation (DunapArt Publishing, Hungary, 2026), Lady Buddha (O:JA&L / aRt journal, Montana, USA, 2026). He has been nominated several times for international awards. Known spiritualist mediums, art and explores the relationship between magic.

"In Flood" by Joanna Ashwell

In Flood

Everywhere, becoming a rap for every move. The limbs, the frame, the fingers drumming without a cue. These chords within, tangling each thought. The river, a lake, the sea, a pond; even a puddle. The refraction of rain.

out of slumber
shaking me free
a eulogy in cloud

~

Joanna Ashwell is a poet and spiritual healer. Her recent collections of poetry published include Love's Scriptures, Moonset Song and Book Patronus. She loves crystals, angels and dragons. She searches for the joy in life and loves to empower others to do the same.

"Young and Smart" by Stephen Philip Druce

Young and Smart

Oh to be
young and smart,

like a
migrating baby
bird, our triumphs
will fade like
ocean waves that
dry out on
the rocks—

our blunders will
etch like fossils.

~

Stephen Philip Druce is a poet from Shrewsbury in the UK. He is published in the UK, the USA, Ireland, Hungary, India and South Africa. Stephen has also written for BBC Radio 4 Extra and London theatre plays.

An Esoteriku by M. R. Pelletier

recurring nightmare
waking to the certainty
I am being dreamed

~

M. R. Pelletier lives in Kansas, but his haiku poetry travels the world. He has published in multiple journals including Bamboo Hut, Five Fleas, Wales Haiku Journal, Mad Swirl and Failed Haiku among others.

An Esoteriku by Kelly Sargent

mountain stream
this body that once
was mine

~

Kelly Sargent is a poet, editor, and devoted tea drinker residing in Vermont. Though she writes about autumn foliage and fallen acorns, she most enjoys penning poems that reflect the multiple facets of being human. She is an assistant editor for #FemkuMag and served last year as a co-judge for the HSA Harold G. Henderson Haiku Contest. Her latest haiku/senryu collection is entitled The Honeybee's Waggle (Cuttlefish Books, 2026). She writes because when a reader gives a little nod or slight smile, she no longer bears the weight of living, alone.

An Esoteriku by Robert Moyer

look what
you made me do
shattered Buddha

~

Robert Moyer, known by those close to him as Curly, lives in Winston Salem, where he dotes on his beautiful, talented wife and spends time wondering about the pattern of French fries he observed on the Venice Beach pier in 1995.

An Esoteriku by Thomas L. Vaultonburg

build only what
the moss will claim
as kin

~

Thomas L. Vaultonburg lives in Rockford, Illinois. His haiku have appeared in Modern Haiku, The Heron's Nest, Presence, Acorn, Mayfly, and other journals. He is the author of Vanished Roads and co-founder of Wolf Twin Books.

An Esoteriku by Arvinder Kaur

pillion ride
her fingers spell
another man's name

~

Arvinder Kaur believes in a superpower that lives within each one of us, whose presence she feels in all forms of creation. She has released four collections of haiku and is working on her fifth one. Totally in love with her mother tongue, she also has three translated works to her credit. Her haiku/senryu often appear in major international journals. A retired educationist, she lives in Chandigarh, India with her family.

An Esoteriku by Hifsa Ashraf

funeral day—
holding my grief
the swollen tissue

~

Fueled by a healthy dose of caffeine, Hifsa Ashraf from Rawalpindi, Pakistan, has been writing poetry since her teenage years. She is the author of six individual and four collaborative micropoetry collections. Lately, she enjoys cawing while tracing the contours of shadows.

An Esoteriku by Vishal Prabhu

on the dot—
a muezzin's breath precedes
the call to prayer

~

A lover of all things deep and dark, Vishal Prabhu is forever walking over the edge of a forest.

An Esoteriku by Ravi Kiran

waiting
for it to fall
forbidden fruit

~

Ravi is a late-blooming haiku poet with a penchant for minimalism. His haiku have won awards and have been featured in leading publications. He is the editor of Leaf haiku journal.

A Tanka by Jackie Chou

looking out
my balcony
I sigh
about all my time
spent as Rapunzel

~

Jackie Chou is a writer from Southern California who has two collections of poetry, The Sorceress and Finding My Heart in Love and Loss, published by cyberwit. Her poem "Formosa" was a finalist in the Stephen A DiBiase Poetry Prize. She has recent work in The Ekphrastic Review and Synchronized Chaos.

 

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

Jazz through the airbase fence
the red shoe of Terayama's fictional self

An Esoteriku by Tim Chamberlain

lost in thought—
the snake becomes
its own ouroboros

~

Tim Chamberlain is a haiku poet, originally from London, UK, now living in Tokyo, Japan. A devotee of Matsuo Bashō, Tim loves to escape the urban and reconnect with the rural, exploring the natural world, as well as visiting shrines, temples, and formal gardens in Japan and overseas. He is also the author of a haiku blog, Shinobazu Pond 俳句.

A Haiga by John Hawkhead

 

~

John Hawkhead has been writing short-form poetry for over 30 years, publishing three books of haiku & senryu in that time. He lives in the South West of England.

An Esoteriku by Anne Fox

dark arts
gathering rainfall
into words

~

Anne Fox, considered a witch-child from birth, is an off-planet soul doing psychopomp work behind the scenes for our dying civilization.

An Esoteriku by Jerome Berglund

the illuminati
stay hydrated . . .
are you?!

~

Jerome Berglund has had a lifelong interest in angels, demons, hoodoo, voodoo, saints, sinners, spiritual ritual, occult practices, and supernatural phenomena. His lineage includes victims of the Salem witch hunts. Many haiku, haiga and haibun he's written have been exhibited or are forthcoming online and in print, most recently in bottle rockets, Frogpond, and Presence. His first full-length collections of poetry were released by Setu, Meat for Tea, Mōtus Audāx Press, and a mixed media chapbook showcasing his fine art photography is available now from Fevers of the Mind.

An Esoteriku by Kelly Sargent

sap slash
resisting the urge
to cover every wound

~

Kelly Sargent is a poet, editor, and devoted tea drinker residing in Vermont. Though she writes about autumn foliage and fallen acorns, she most enjoys penning poems that reflect the multiple facets of being human. She is an assistant editor for #FemkuMag and served last year as a co-judge for the HSA Harold G. Henderson Haiku Contest. Her latest haiku/senryu collection is entitled The Honeybee's Waggle (Cuttlefish Books, 2026). She writes because when a reader gives a little nod or slight smile, she no longer bears the weight of living, alone.

"Dream of Spring" by Joy Hallinan

Dream of Spring

The ritual begins with a splash of ice cold water. Dusting on a white powder with a gilded brush. Carefully drawing again the outline of lips ruby red. A black kohl pencil fills sparse brows. A smear of the queen's royal jelly seeps into the faint beginnings of sinking cheeks. A smile. Then, the slow stir of collagen into her black coffee.

gazing into a mirror
reflects back the green witch
hazel saplings
surrounded by bent trees
with grey-haired moss

~

Born in the 60's flower child era, Joy spent many happy unsupervised hours roaming the woods. Her haiku, tanka, haibun, and tanka prose can be found in journals internationally. Sometimes her haiku may also surprise you on a street corner sign or in a botanical garden. Winner of the 2026 Ecopoetry Award, Fiiloli Gardens, and Finalist Washington, D.C. Golden Haiku Competition.

An Esoteriku by Arvinder Kaur

the times we die in this life   soulstice

~

Arvinder Kaur believes in a superpower that lives within each one of us, whose presence she feels in all forms of creation. She has released four collections of haiku and is working on her fifth one. Totally in love with her mother tongue, she also has three translated works to her credit. Her haiku/senryu often appear in major international journals. A retired educationist, she lives in Chandigarh, India with her family.

An Esoteriku by Rowan Beckett Minor

first day of summer
cat whiskers
in the conjure oil

~

Rowan Beckett Minor (they/them) is a disabled Melungeon poet and hoodoo practitioner from Prince, WV, who currently resides in Cleveland, OH. They have been featured in:  Mayfly, A New Resonance 12, as a confluence journal Fellow (2024-2025), as a presenter for Haiku North America (2019, 2021), and co-judge for the HSA Brady Senryu Contest (2022). Rowan is honored to have served as HSA Midwest Regional Coordinator in 2024.

An Esoteriku by Kelly Sauvage Moyer

fucking
with my nihilism
another errant sunbeam

~

Kelly Sauvage Moyer is a dreamer with plenty of blessings (and scars) to show for it. She is the Founding Editor of Circle of Salt.

An Esoteriku by David McKee

morning star a metaphor the darkness remembered

~

David McKee is a haiku poet and retired psychotherapist living in Santa Fe, NM. His haiku have been published in various journals, including Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Acorn, Kingfisher, Bones, Presence, and password. His work also has been anthologized in The Red Moon Anthology, Haiku 2021, Haiku 2022, Haiku 2023, Haiku 2024, the Whiptail 2023 Anthology, the Haiku 21.2 Anthology, and Red Moon Press's New Resonance series. He is an oblate of Holy Wisdom Monastery and a member of The Stray Dog Zen sangha.

An Esoteriku by Vandana Parashar

tracing the provenance rain becomes a lake

~

Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook, Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022. She won the 2025 HIGH/COO Chapbook Award, and her third chapbook was published by Brooks Books. She is a Lord Shiva devotee but believes in goodness of thoughts, words and deeds rather than following elaborate rituals to appease God. She likes to spend time with nature and herself.

"The Castaway Bottle" by Paula Rodriguez

The Castaway Bottle

The cards told me that my mother should take care of her brittle bones, the fiddle bones in her head, her knees, the little bones in her pointing fingers. Then I saw the Viking ship, lying at the bottom of a fjord, the tamed hills surrounding it plagued with withered blades and apple trees. Its frame strong, like mussels waiting to be awakened by the tide. And thus did I discover where my brother was, for no one would tell me. The day Grandmother stopped breathing, we placed a garnet rosary around her neck, like she wanted. Then, my mother appeared with her leg in a cast and fought my aunts and uncles with her crutches because my brother was not there to protect her.

sleeping at the root
of eternal salvation—
the waves

An Esoteriku by Hifsa Ashraf

black rain
the eulogy
of another war

~

Fueled by a healthy dose of caffeine, Hifsa Ashraf from Rawalpindi, Pakistan, has been writing poetry since her teenage years. She is the author of six individual and four collaborative micropoetry collections. Lately, she enjoys cawing while tracing the contours of shadows.

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

during the sing-along, a wound I didn't know I had

An Esoteriku by M. R. Pelletier

the hum
of my fridge
temple bell

~

M. R. Pelletier lives in Kansas, but his haiku poetry travels the world. He has published in multiple journals, including Bamboo Hut, Five Fleas, Wales Haiku Journal, Mad Swirl and Failed Haiku among others.

An Esoteriku by Anne Fox

flesh deep
beneath glass slippers
scars

~

Anne Fox, considered a witch-child from birth, is an off-planet soul doing psychopomp work behind the scenes for our dying civilization.

"Mother's Helper" by Colleen M. Farrelly

Mother's Helper

First, I grab a loam bag. Then, I grab a trowel. Sweat pours out of me in the afternoon sun as I weave between the rosemary and mugwort, noting weeds and aphids. I dump the leftovers beside unfilled potters and grab a lemonade.

compost heap—
our black cat adds a mouse

~

Colleen M. Farrelly is a mathematician and haibun poet who's been exploring the universe through mathematics and physics since childhood. She's an amalgam of mystic Jewish/Catholic traditions and mathematician-philosophers like Blaise Pascal, with a deep appreciation for meditation and what she learned about public health and spiritual health from South African village shamans in the mid-2000s.

An Esoteriku by Edward Cody Huddleston

résumé gap
the time spent traveling
between dimensions

An Esoteriku by Mark Valentine

no need to invoke
the gods of chaos
they invite themselves

~

Mark Valentine is interested in bungalow visionaries, bedsit occultists, back-street brooders, bus station café poets, top floor troubadours, chip shop radicals, quayside soothsayers, semi-detached flying-saucerists, reading-room ruminators, rucksack ley-hunters, apocalypticks in creepered villas, terraced house neo-kabbalists, tower block zaum-niks, seekers of zodiacs, cliff-edge samphire-gatherers, and allied trades.

An Esoteriku by Sangita Kalarickal

disco dance of the maple storm lit sky

~

Dr. Sangita Kalarickal writes to keep sane in a mad world. She's also the author of two books and the EIC of Drifting Sands Haibun Journal.

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

a tray of orange nasturtiums . . .
knees touching
the whole ride home

An Esoteriku by Gareth Nurden

patio fire
poking the cremated remains
of sundown

~

Gareth Nurden is a haikuist from Newport, Wales and has had several hundred pieces of his work appear in twenty countries worldwide in journals, anthologies, e-zines and blogs.

An Esoteriku by Sarah Mahina Calvello

days of peaches fleeting and simple

~

Sarah Mahina Calvello lives in San Francisco and writes mostly haiku. She loves nature and is addicted to coffee. https://heyyouhaiku.blogspot.com/?m=1

An Esoteriku by unc

shadows
within shadows
genealogy

~

unc lives in Pennsylvania, and he is drawn to the magic of short haiku. He can often be sighted in coffee shops, used bookstores, and daydreaming in the woods.

An Esoteriku by Kelly Sargent

dream walker
the tightrope between me
and my self

~

Kelly Sargent is a poet, editor, and devoted tea drinker residing in Vermont. Though she writes about autumn foliage and fallen acorns, she most enjoys penning poems that reflect the multiple facets of being human. She is an assistant editor for #FemkuMag and served last year as a co-judge for the HSA Harold G. Henderson Haiku Contest. Her latest haiku/senryu collection is entitled The Honeybee's Waggle (Cuttlefish Books, 2026). She writes because when a reader gives a little nod or slight smile, she no longer bears the weight of living, alone.

An Esoteriku by M. R. Pelletier

rope bridge
the narrow stream
of being

~

M. R. Pelletier lives in Kansas, but his haiku poetry travels the world. He has published in multiple journals, including Bamboo Hut, Five Fleas, Wales Haiku Journal, Mad Swirl and Failed Haiku among others.

An Esoteriku by Vandana Parashar

gusts of freezing rain she speaks in my silence

~

Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019, and her second chapbook, Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022. She won the 2025 HIGH/COO Chapbook Award, and her third chapbook was published by Brooks Books. She is a Lord Shiva devotee but believes in goodness of thoughts, words and deeds rather than following elaborate rituals to appease God. She likes to spend time with nature and herself.

An Esoteriku by Hifsa Ashraf

distant shooting
ellipses of starlings
scattered in the sky

~

Fueled by a healthy dose of caffeine, Hifsa Ashraf from Rawalpindi, Pakistan, has been writing poetry since her teenage years. She is the author of six individual and four collaborative micropoetry collections. Lately, she enjoys cawing while tracing the contours of shadows.

An Esoteriku by Arvinder Kaur

the soundtrack of my solitude: wind chimes

~

Arvinder Kaur believes in a superpower that lives within each one of us, whose presence she feels in all forms of creation. She has released four collections of haiku and is working on her fifth one. Totally in love with her mother tongue, she also has three translated works to her credit. Her haiku/senryu often appear in major international journals. A retired educationist, she lives in Chandigarh, India with her family.

An Esoteriku by Anne Fox

rusted rainbow
the monochrome
of pain

~

Anne Fox, considered a witch-child from birth, is an off-planet soul doing psychopomp work behind the scenes for our dying civilization.

An Esoteriku by John Hawkhead

natural magic
enraptured by a charm
of goldfinches

~

John Hawkhead has been writing short-form poetry for over 30 years, publishing three books of haiku & senryu in that time. He lives in the South West of England.

"Zip" by Nolcha Fox

Zip

The mural on the building at 3rd and Main appeared that morning from nowhere. The whole town gathered, gawking at the seascape.

"All those fish!" Mayor Abaddon said. "Look how the sunlight sparkles off their scales!"

Marleen, town librarian, pointed at the bottom of the mural. "Why is there a zipper there?"

"Why don't you find out, my dear?" The mayor lit a cigar with his thumb.

She yanked the zipper down. Zip!

Whoosh! The ocean cascaded out, drowning everyone.

Everyone except Abaddon, hovering on leathery wings, eyes glinting red. "People. So gullible." He flew away to the next town.

~

Nolcha Fox's poems have been curated in print and online journals. A best-selling author, her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize multiple times. Editor of Chewers by Masticadores and LatinosUSA.

Website:  https://writingaddiction2.wordpress.com/ and https://nolchafox2.wixsite.com/nolcha-s-written-word/blog

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/

An Esoteriku by Colleen M. Farrelly

Giant's Causeway
a sea spray rainbow covers
the fairy tree

~

Colleen M. Farrelly is a mathematician and haibun poet who's been exploring the universe through mathematics and physics since childhood. She's an amalgam of mystic Jewish/Catholic traditions and mathematician-philosophers like Blaise Pascal, with a deep appreciation for meditation and what she learned about public health and spiritual health from South African village shamans in the mid-2000s.

An Esoteriku by Sarah Mahina Calvello

a cup of coffee with the mountains primal screaming

~

Sarah Mahina Calvello lives in San Francisco and writes mostly haiku. She loves nature and is addicted to coffee. https://heyyouhaiku.blogspot.com/?m=1

"Of the Sea" by Colleen M. Farrelly

Of the Sea

Moonlight shimmers on the beach as we race towards his Naval base. Sand dollars dot the surf line, relics of the Paleocene. At children's church, they symbolized the Resurrection. Here, it's still. Just memories and our buddy's ghost whispering from the waves.

paddle out

an empty surfboard
and floating leis

as a final set
passes through
Memorial Day dawn

~

Colleen M. Farrelly is a mathematician and haibun poet who's been exploring the universe through mathematics and physics since childhood. She's an amalgam of mystic Jewish/Catholic traditions and mathematician-philosophers like Blaise Pascal, with a deep appreciation for meditation and what she learned about public health and spiritual health from South African village shamans in the mid-2000s.

"Magpies on the Chimney" by Ma Yongbo

Magpies on the Chimney

At the top of the red-brick square chimney on the roof,
a few magpies form a circle, motionless for a long time.
The color of the snow on the roof hasn't changed yet,
on the wooden face of the house, only gray wrinkles remain.
The desolate yard, the wind without nerves,
hangs on the fence like withered yellow vines.

No smoke has risen from the chimney yet,
the magpies' gray full dress are still new,
they resemble boys from a neighboring village
arriving early for the ball,
winter's frozen clouds and smog inextricably intertwined.
the red sun's cruise ship
slowly sinking in the afternoon woods.

The magpies squat on the chimney, looking down,
the pitch-black chimney like a deep well,
leading to a quiet room.
There is no sharp scent of burning pine branches,
no light, perhaps the owner isn't home,
the magpies and I know nothing.
Perhaps they are mourning a companion,
who jumped down and never made a sound.

Far away, the cooking smoke has never risen,
those few lonely little houses
seem like we've never been there.

~

Ma Yongbo was born in 1964, Ph.D., representative of Chinese avant-garde poetry, and a leading scholar in Anglo-American poetry. He is the founder of polyphonic writing and objectified poetics. He has published over eighty original works and translations since 1986, including 9 poetry collections. He focused on translating and teaching Anglo-American poetry and prose including the work of Dickinson, Whitman, Stevens, Pound, Amy Lowell, Williams, Ashbery and Rosanna Warren. He published a complete translation of Moby Dick, which has sold over 600,000 copies. He teaches at Nanjing University of Science and Technology. The Collected Poems of Ma Yongbo (four volumes, Eastern Publishing Centre, 2024) is comprised of 1178 poems, celebrating 40 years of writing poetry.

"Hoops with Heads" by Jerome Berglund

Hoops with Heads

Play ball. Ball park. Take me out to the ball game. Ball is in your court. Wanna be a baller, shot caller. Lucille Ball. Balenciaga. Cabal. Symbol. Bawling me out. Cotton ball. Ball and chain. Wrecking ball. Ballot. Ballast. Ballad. Hyperbole. Dodge ball. Mothball. Ball gag. Ballcock. Ballroom. Masquerade ball. Black and White Ball. Disco ball. Bali Hai. Eight ball. Meat Ball. Red Bull. High ball. Bolster. Speed ball. Ballistic missile. Metabolism. Golf ball. Matzah ball. Canon ball. Ball drop. Ball boy. Medicine ball. A baby bawls. Fireball. Black ball.

high house
a whole
new ball game

~

Jerome Berglund has had a lifelong interest in angels, demons, hoodoo, voodoo, saints, sinners, spiritual ritual, occult practices, and supernatural phenomena. His lineage includes victims of the Salem witch hunts. Many haiku, haiga and haibun he's written have been exhibited or are forthcoming online and in print, most recently in bottle rockets, Frogpond, and Presence. His first full-length collections of poetry were released by Setu, Meat for Tea, Mōtus Audāx Press, and a mixed media chapbook showcasing his fine art photography is available now from Fevers of the Mind.

An Esoteriku by Anne Fox

 

first butterfly
for a moment I forget
about death

~

Anne Fox, considered a witch-child from birth, is an off-planet soul doing psychopomp work behind the scenes for our dying civilization.

An Esoteriku by Randy Brooks

 

woods spirit
oak leaves scratch
hold on

~

Randy Brooks is Professor of English Emeritus at Millikin University, where he teaches a haiku course. Randy and Shirley Brooks are publishers of Brooks Books and co-editors of Mayfly haiku magazine. His most recent publication is HAIKU DECK which features 52 haiku, one each for 52 cards. See the web page: https://www.brooksbookshaiku.com/Brooks-HaikuDeck.html

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

dendrites cease-fire under the left eye of Jerry's third tour

"Playgrounds of Yesteryears" by Graeme Needham

Playgrounds of Yesteryears

Pick up, discard. Ouch!! That one pricked. Pick up, discard. Aha, a champion!!

Children huddled in a corner of the playground, sharing eternal secrets.

Bake them, soak them in vinegar, put them in the airing cupboard! All the secrets of making a world beater.

A hole, a lace and an almighty swing, legend and dreams shattered, the defeat of a king.

Sore knuckles raised in celebration.

All confined to legend and myth.

Now, they just lay unpicked, unchosen, undiscovered champions.

The world has gone bonkers, now that kids can't play conkers.

~

Brought up in Doncaster, Graeme Needham now resides by the Sea in Scarborough, North Yorkshire, UK. Through past experiences, he has had the need to find mental peace in creativity. This started with his musical journey, being self-taught. He learned to play the mandolin, banjo and ukulele, enjoying hours playing traditional music, mainly Celtic. This led to his love of poetry, and in particular haiku and the imagery it conjours from so few words.

An Esoteriku by Arvinder Kaur

 

Ganga aarti
incense curls into dusk

~

Arvinder Kaur believes in a superpower that lives within each one of us, whose presence she feels in all forms of creation. She has released four collections of haiku and is working on her fifth one. Totally in love with her mother tongue, she also has three translated works to her credit. Her haiku/senryu often appear in major international journals. A retired educationist, she lives in Chandigarh, India with her family.

An Esoteriku by unc

 

fog retreat
somewhere
unholy

~

unc lives in Pennsylvania, and he is drawn to the magic of short haiku. He can often be sighted in coffee shops, used bookstores, and daydreaming in the woods.

A Tanka by Ron Scully

 

loose strands
of the dust broom
she swept up
and burned
smudging the new moon

An Esoteriku by Princes Rose Manuel

 

sakura blossoms
still midway falling
only in his mind

~

Princes grew up watching the moon and stars until the moon became plenty and the stars began to hide. Her vision might be blurry, but she still has the picture in her mind. Pictures that keep her writing.

An Esoteriku by Gordon Brown

 

three white ravens
on your grandma's rocking chair
picking at her bones

~

Gordon Brown grew up in the deserts of Syria and now lives in the deserts of Nevada. Since arriving in the New World, his work has appeared in McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Weird Horror Magazine, Hunger Mountain Review, and elsewhere. His horror haiku chapbook, Skin Crawls, is forthcoming from Cuttlefish Books. He spends his time writing feverishly and looking after his cats, of which he has none.

An Esoteriku by Sarah Mahina Calvello

 

honey lingers golden in the open wound

~

Sarah Mahina Calvello lives in San Francisco and writes mostly haiku. She loves nature and is addicted to coffee. https://heyyouhaiku.blogspot.com/?m=1

"SOS" by Shloka Shankar

 

~

Shloka Shankar is a disabled poet, editor, and visual artist from Bangalore, India. A Best of the Net nominee and widely published haiku poet, Shloka is the Founding Editor of Sonic Boom and its imprint Yavanika Press. She is the author of the haiku collections The Field of Why and within our somehows, and co-author of the haiga anthology, living in the pause. Website: www.shlokashankar.com | Instagram: @shloks23

An Esoteriku by M. R. Pelletier

 

a woodland path
what the flowers know
of my blooming

~

M. R. Pelletier lives in Kansas, but his haiku poetry travels the world. He has published in multiple journals, including Bamboo Hut, Five Fleas, Wales Haiku Journal, Madswirl and Failed Haiku among other.

An Esoteriku by Lucas Weissenborn

 

his army trousers
in rags . . .
triangle of doves

~

Lucas Weissenborn is a researcher, musician, and poet based in Norway. His haiku and senryū have appeared in various journals, including Science. He was also once unintentionally appointed an expert on squirrels by a university in Russia.

"Bone of My Bone" by Kaitlyn Downing

 

Bone of My Bone

The Witch in the Woods could only be found on All Hallow's Eve, the wisewoman said, when the veil between the worlds is thin, and only if the right words were spoken, the right ritual performed, and then only once. Cass had memorized the incantation she provided, brought the ritual dagger and herbs, but now, as she chose her way through the trees in the semi-dark, doubts and worries grasped her. The wisewoman had already tried everything she knew.

This was her last hope.

He had promised to marry her, had given her a gold ring and spoke his vows in church, but by the time his wife, babe in arms, found them, it was too late. She was already pregnant.

What reason was there even to tell him? Shame and anger rose up like heartburn. How could he do this? How could she have been so stupid? So trusting?

Having her new husband proven a bigamist was bad enough, the whole village watching with pity or scorn as he slunk out to his lawful wife who cursed her at her own door. As if she wanted this.

Who would marry her now, a ruined woman? She thought of the seed of him growing inside her, part of him inside part of her whether she wanted it or not, and felt guilty. Guilty for not feeling guilty for what she was about to do. She should be torn, shouldn't she? Riddled with remorse that she couldn't have the child, that no one could know? But she wasn't.

It just felt like a reminder of her stupidity.

Her thoughts were looping again, and she resolved to focus on the task at hand. She was close. The gurgling of running water made her veer left, and she followed the sound until the trees gave birth to a meadow where the stream emptied into a dark pond.

There was a hush upon the lea, and even the brook's bubbling dissipated in the enclosure of oaks. Poised at the pond's edge, Cass sprinkled the herbs across the surface, and chanted:

Old Mother, Wise Mother
Witch of the Wood
Good Mother, Proud Mother
Blood of my blood.

Old Mother, Wise Mother
Bone of my bone
Good Mother, Proud Mother
Welcome me home.

Slicing her fingertip with the dagger, she carefully allowed three drops to fall into the water, singing:

Old Mother, Wise Mother
I wait at the shore
Good Mother, Proud Mother
Open the door.

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until moments passed with no change around her. With deep breaths, she quelled the rising panic. There was no guarantee that she would find the Witch, and some who found her wished they hadn't. Some returned blind, some maimed. Some didn't return.

Her last hope. She would be banished if anyone discovered her condition. She had no one and nowhere else to go. Nothing to lose.

The sudden flicker of fireflies pulled her gaze right and when she looked back, there was an ivy-covered cabin in the meadow. A wooden bridge spanned the stream. Relief and fear unfurled within her as she inched across the rickety planks towards the hut, now lit from within.

Her last hope.

Resolve and desperation prodded her to knock three times on the carved, wooden door. She didn't know the ancient symbols or what they meant. With a creak, it swung open, and Cass hesitated, as if she could turn back now.

Once she stepped over the threshold, the fire in the hearth brightened. Inside, the walls were woven willow wands, and herbs and dead things hung from the rafters. Corked clay jars lined the shelves along one wall, casting oddly shaped shadows. A small cot piled with furs and blankets was pushed against the far wall. The scent of death made her breath catch and fear trickle the back of her neck.

No turning back.

"What do you wish of Old Mother?" The voice was strong, despite the frail old woman in the chair near the fire. "Come, Cassandra, let me look at  you."

Forcing her fear down, Cass knelt so Old Mother's hands could trace the contours of her face, reading whatever truth they told. She sorted her words before answering. "I wish your help in ridding me of this child, whose father deserted me. I only have one thing of any value," she tugged the wedding ring from her pouch, offering it. "This should be enough to meet your price."

"Not my price," she patted Cass's cheek, cackling. "Nature's price." She waved the ring away. "Ha! As if it were that easy." Old Mother pinned her eyes with hers. "What you ask is no small boon. Be sure it is what you truly want, as it cannot be undone once it's started." Her gaze was of an owl sighting a mouse, and Cass shuddered.

"It's what I want." For his part to be no part of me.

"So it shall be." She sprung from the chair like a much younger woman, and busily picked and pounded and blended ingredients into a small cauldron, stirring in her muttered incantations. Once the mixture began to boil, she poured the dark contents through a sieve into a clay bottle. Pushing a cork in the top, she handed it to Cass, "Drink this once you get home, and get straight into bed. By the morning, you will know your fate."

The next morning, a mouse-sized skeleton curled in a bloody pool on her twisted bedsheets. She stared at it in horrified fascination. It was larger than she would have thought, impossible to tell boy or girl, and its lack of skin or organs was mystifying. She examined it, waiting to feel something normal. She should ache with sorrow, writhe with remorse, but she couldn't muster anything but relief and morbid curiosity. Blood still coated her thighs and her nightdress, and she washed herself before lifting the teeny bones and gently placing them on a towel before balling up the sheets and her bloody nightdress for the laundry. She would need to treat the stains before they set.

She managed to ignore the bones until early evening, when their pull made her wrap them neatly in brown paper, like a present, and tie it with a twine bow, made her hike to the pond and heave it in as far as she could.

#

The next morning, Cass was stiff and sore. She hadn't slept well, had heard baby's cries in her dreams, cries that followed her no matter how far or fast she ran. She kneaded a sore spot in her back and noticed a hard, round knob near the wing bone. At first, she thought it might be a pimple or boil, but it was too hard and there was no tenderness. Maybe some cyst or bone growth? She shrugged it off, determined to ask the wisewoman about it if it didn't go away on its own or grew.

The baby no longer was a part of her. A deep peace born of a new beginning settled into her, and her heart was lighter than it had been since her wedding, before it all crumbled into dust. Something had lit a candle within her, and she glowed despite the lack of sleep. The rest of the day passed in a giddy haze.

That night, she was again pursued by baby screams, but this time, an amorphous child was always ahead of her with arms raised plaintively. Every time she tried to turn down a different path, she was there—she was sure it was a girl, though she had no idea why—arms stretched towards her. She woke gasping and shivering. In her dream, Cass wanted to pick her up, to soothe her sobs, to ease her pain, and that scared her more than being unable to run away.

She mentally slammed the door on that thought, and the following one that said, you did what you had to do, and rose to dress. It was in straightening the cotton that she felt the knob had grown larger, mushrooming into a cluster of various knobs. They vibrated as her breaths came more rapidly, yet she couldn't breathe . . .

The wisewoman peeled her off the floor—how had she known? Her mind sifted through the haze but couldn't latch onto anything. Her eyes swept the chamber, and she realized she was home. Why was she on the floor? She couldn't knit thoughts together.

The stout woman hauled her up to sit her on the cot, and settle a blanket around her shoulders. The wisewoman's gasp told her she had felt the knobs. Suddenly, her chemise was around her neck, the woman's hands moving across her back.

"I see you found the Witch," she murmured, probing the mouse-sized mass with knowing fingers. "This could only be magic." She stopped prodding and pulled the fabric down.

"Is there anything you can do?" She could sell her gold ring, she wasn't destitute.

The wisewoman must have been calculating the same thing, because she hardly hesitated before saying, "I might be able to cut it out." She stood, wiping her hands on a stained apron. "I would need to gather some things. Return tomorrow morning—I'll need the light, and this will take a while."

Cass nodded. Before she reached the door, the wisewoman turned back. "With magic . . ." she shook her head, "No promises."

#

Even before she set out, she knew she would not find Old Mother again. It wasn't All Hallow's Eve. She had no herbs. She had returned the dagger to the wisewoman.

And no one had ever found the Witch in the Woods more than once.

Still, she made her way to the pond. She sang the chant. She spilled the blood drops—this time from a kitchen knife—into the black water. And waited.

When no hut appeared, she pleaded, "Help, Old Mother!" But nothing happened. No one answered. She collapsed, sobbing, on the cold, damp ground. She had no idea how much time had passed before she picked herself up and shuffled home.

#

The child haunted her dreams that night, so in every direction, there it was, raised arms, demanding eyes and loud, incessant caterwaul. The more she fled, the closer the baby was, grasping her skirts, arms clutching at her, forcing her to accept it, pick it up, take it in. Screaming, she raced down twisting paths where tree branches snatched at her until she had no more breath or ability to move, and she sank to a ground covered in billowing fog, the baby's cries reverberating in her ears, insistent eyes and arms everywhere.

In her despair, she knew she would never be free of it, that this was the price. She could not undo it. The child was indelibly a part of her, more than it was ever a part of him. She recognized that too, even as she wanted to deny it. The fog cleared from the ground and all that was left was the little girl, who looked so much like her—how had she not realized it before?—sitting with helpless arms upraised, hope glowing from innocent eyes begging to be held, loved. The child's face reflected hers in perfect miniature, and she finally understood.

Part of her.

As she picked up her child, cradling her against her heart, she knew she wouldn't see the wisewoman in the morning.

~

Kaitlyn Downing—part fairy, part mermaid, and part cat—spends most of her time in her pool or her garden in Florida with her four cats when she's not teaching English. Her work has most recently appeared in Hemlock, 34 Orchard, Inkstains, among others.

A Tanka by Jackie Chou

 

the pond
is placid now
until you come
like a red dragonfly
rippling the water

~

Jackie Chou is a writer from Southern California who has two collections of poetry, The Sorceress and Finding My Heart in Love and Loss, published by cyberwit. Her poem "Formosa" was a finalist in the Stephen A DiBiase Poetry Prize. She has recent work in The Ekphrastic Review and Synchronized Chaos.

"Boundary" by Ma Yongbo

 

Boundary

When a boundary emerges in the dark,
metaphysics becomes important. Children know this
even before the falling snow makes the hedges stand out,
even before a tree falls dully in the woods.

Existence is nearly a transparent slope,
the swarming plankton of snowflakes rising endlessly.
And so they see farther, in the drafty attic,
gazing through the window at the empty swing set.

They watch pedestrians shrink against the wind,
staring deep into the woods
where their parents dig holes, first with pickaxes, then spades,
trying to vanish inside them—starving.

They carry away the family's entire supply of salt in coarse sacks,
to thank the hardened earth, and to return to their children.

~

Ma Yongbo was born in 1964, Ph.D., representative of Chinese avant-garde poetry, and a leading scholar in Anglo-American poetry. He is the founder of polyphonic writing and objectified poetics. He has published over eighty original works and translations since 1986, including 9 poetry collections. He focused on translating and teaching Anglo-American poetry and prose, including the work of Dickinson, Whitman, Stevens, Pound, Amy Lowell, Williams, Ashbery and Rosanna Warren. He published a complete translation of Moby Dick, which has sold over 600,000 copies. He teaches at Nanjing University of Science and Technology. The Collected Poems of Ma Yongbo (four volumes, Eastern Publishing Centre, 2024), comprising 1178 poems, celebrates 40 years of writing poetry.

"Death's Not Proud" by Nolcha Fox

 

Death's Not Proud

Death pursues me, wants to date me,
says he loves my attitude.

He drives behind me in his junker
to let me know he's not too proud.

Says he'd rather save his money
to buy me presents, jewels, and furs.

He's a looker, pale and slender.
I admit that I've done worse.

~

Nolcha Fox's poems have been curated in print and online journals. A best-selling author, her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize multiple times. Editor of Chewers by Masticadores and LatinosUSA.

Website: https://writingaddiction2.wordpress.com/ and https://nolchafox2.wixsite.com/nolcha-s-written-word/blog

#How to Hex a Haibun by Colleen M. Farrelly

 

#How to Hex a Haibun

def literary_target(haiku_or_prose):
    if haiku_or_prose==“prose”:
        print("""I gather the basil and bay leaf,
                          breathe in clarity and cleanse
                          myself of coding deadlines.
                          Try an automatic exercise.
                          Turn myself into a daemon
                          churning out procedure poems
                          to a digital notepad. I read
                          what I wrote and wonder if
                          I need more thyme.""")

    if haiku_or_prose==“haiku”:
        print("""burning sage
                          another saved draft
                          autodeletes""")

~

Colleen M. Farrelly is a mathematician and haibun poet who's been exploring the universe through mathematics and physics since childhood. She's an amalgam of mystic Jewish/Catholic traditions and mathematician-philosophers like Blaise Pascal, with a deep appreciation for meditation and what she learned about public health and spiritual health from South African village shamans in the mid-2000s.

An Esoteriku by Charles Trumbull

 

apron-clad scarecrow
blowing in the late spring wind
Emily's ghost

~

Dr. Charles Trumbull is retired from research, writing, editorial, and publishing positions at the U.S. National Academy of Sciences, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, and Encyclopedia Britannica. He is past president of the Haiku Society of America and retired editor of Modern Haiku. His chapbook Between the Chimes was published in 2011, and A Five-Balloon Morning, a book of New Mexico haiku, appeared in June 2013, and A History of Modern Haiku came out in 2019. These days he divides his time between his Haiku Database and Haikupedia, the online encyclopedia of haiku.

An Esoteriku by Anne Fox

 

star window
night shapes an opening
around you

~

Anne Fox, considered a witch-child from birth, is an off-planet soul doing psychopomp work behind the scenes for our dying civilization.

A Haiga by John Hawkhead

 

~

John Hawkhead has been writing short-form poetry for over 30 years, publishing three books of haiku & senryu in that time. He lives in the South West of England.

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

 

deep night
tangelo moon between
the fourth and fifth slat

An Esoteriku by Roberta Beach Jacobson

 

excluded
from her tell-all memoir
the spells she used

~

Roberta Beach Jacobson, a woman of few words, is a daydreamer who publishes poetry and flash fiction. When the mood strikes, she sits on her porch and paints abstracts. She sleeps late and works late in Iowa.

An Esoteriku by Vandana Parashar

 

inter alia the universe within us

~

Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook, Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022. She won the 2025 HIGH/COO Chapbook Award and her third chapbook was published by Brooks Books. She is a Lord Shiva devotee but believes in goodness of thoughts, words and deeds rather than following elaborate rituals to appease God. She likes to spend time with nature and herself.

A Tanka by Jackie Chou

 

like Mona Lisa
I can only manage
a half-smile
my life confined
inside a frame

~

Jackie Chou is a writer from Southern California who has two collections of poetry, The Sorceress and Finding My Heart in Love and Loss, published by cyberwit. Her poem "Formosa" was a finalist in the Stephen A DiBiase Poetry Prize. She has recent work in The Ekphrastic Review and Synchronized Chaos.

"Big Fight" by Zach Lance

 

~

Zach Lance creates imaginary friends and new worlds in the post-modern kindergarten style. Painting these worlds with his new friends enables Zach to escape time.

An Esoteriku by Ron Scully

 

nana's whisk broom
hung over the front door
she had her reasons

An Esoteriku by Martina Matijević

 

hazy moon—scratches on my horoscope

~

Martina Matijević is a poet from Croatia whose work has appeared in Tsuri-doro, Under the Basho, Modern Haiku, Kokako, and other journals. She is currently exploring spiritual traditions and studying astrology, with a particular interest in astrological birth charts.

"Relativity" by Ma Yongbo

 

Relativity

The winter sun, an unfillable pit, 
at the crossroads, between stance and doubt,
between movement and action—
you must turn off the traffic lights and ideas.

A hot-water pipe mumbles indistinct confessions inside the wall,
warming a room with no balcony of ears—
you must turn off the unreliable mechanisms.

Between answer and action, a diving board
sways slightly, the darkness unfathomable—
you must turn off your eyes and abstractions.

A black dog licks the slightly melting ice in a rubber bucket;
its eyes, glowing coal embers, roll across the yard—
you must turn off the door and fear.

The sentinel says: Sit still, do nothing.
Then says: Do something, don't just sit.
The sentinel stands alone, nurturing the statue within his body
to be his own successor—
you must close the window of applications.

The world is ending, just outside the window,
before the torches find us.
Drink wine, eat cold tangerines, lean against the windowsill—
you must turn off the promises.

~

Ma Yongbo was born in 1964, Ph.D., representative of Chinese avant-garde poetry, and a leading scholar in Anglo-American poetry. He is the founder of polyphonic writing and objectified poetics. He has published over eighty original works and translations since 1986, including 9 poetry collections. He focused on translating and teaching Anglo-American poetry and prose, including the work of Dickinson, Whitman, Stevens, Pound, Amy Lowell, Williams, Ashbery and Rosanna Warren. He published a complete translation of Moby Dick, which has sold over 600,000 copies. He teaches at Nanjing University of Science and Technology. The Collected Poems of Ma Yongbo (four volumes, Eastern Publishing Centre, 2024) comprising 1178 poems, celebrates 40 years of writing poetry.

"Expiration" by Shloka Shankar

 

Expiration

We gather our
grievances like grains

of gimlet dust,
blowing on them

until they
line my lungs.

~

Shloka Shankar is a disabled poet, editor, and visual artist from Bangalore, India. A Best of the Net nominee and widely published haiku poet, Shloka is the Founding Editor of Sonic Boom and its imprint Yavanika Press. She is the author of the haiku collections The Field of Why and within our somehows, and co-author of the haiga anthology, living in the pause. Website: www.shlokashankar.com | Instagram: @shloks23

An Esoteriku by Lucas Weissenborn

 

polar night—
she cups an avens flower
to her womb

~

Lucas Weissenborn is a researcher, musician, and poet based in Norway. His haiku and senryū have appeared in various journals, including Science. He was also once unintentionally appointed an expert on squirrels by a university in Russia.

An Esoteriku by Princes Rose Manuel

 

explosions destroyed the crops
then finally a massive mushroom blooms

~

Princes Rose grew up watching the moon and stars until the moon became plenty and the stars began to hide. Her vision might be blurry, but she still has the pictures in her mind. Pictures that keep her writing.

An Esoteriku by Patrick Sweeney

 

aneurysms in the back pockets of sorrow's long hallways

An Esoteriku by Anna N. Jennings

 

casting a spell
the shadow dance
of sunbeams

~

Anna N. Jennings believes in the magic of poetry. A semi-retired creative expressive arts therapist, Jennings facilitates weekly poetry sessions at a state correctional facility. She resides in Southern Vermont, USA. More info:  annanjennings.com 

An Esoteriku by Princes Rose Manuel

 

some clouds smell
they said
but no survivor to testify

~

Princes Rose grew up watching the moon and stars until the moon became plenty and the stars began to hide. Her vision might be blurry, but she still has the pictures in her mind. Pictures that keep her writing.

An Esoteriku by Gareth Nurden

 

moonglow
the dreamcatcher's feather
at my feet

~

Gareth Nurden is a haikuist from Newport, Wales, who has had several hundred pieces of his work appear in twenty countries worldwide in journals, anthologies, e-zines and blogs.

An Esoteriku by Vandana Parashar

 

whatever mother says
the possibility
of an avalanche

~

Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook, Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022. She won the 2025 HIGH/COO Chapbook Award, and her third chapbook was published by Brooks Books. She is a Lord Shiva devotee but believes in goodness of thoughts, words and deeds rather than following elaborate rituals to appease God. She likes to spend time with nature and herself.

An Esoteriku by Sarah Mahina Calvello

 

stovetop coffee a haunted doll going through motions

~

Sarah Mahina Calvello lives in San Francisco and writes mostly haiku. She loves nature and is addicted to coffee. https://heyyouhaiku.blogspot.com/?m=1

"tiny monster" by Yongbo Ma, Helen Pletts, Barbara Leonhard, Belinda Subraman and Nolcha Fox

 

tiny monster

(Belinda)

I have the sudden relevance of an extinct wild flower
un-pressed, when all her petals are re-levelling.
I had been hiding amongst the walls of caves
and now I exist again between the bright horizon
of everything that blooms. And in this season of re-emerging
I am the gentle beast curling in the pollen, like a dazzled bee.

(Helen)

I float in warmth and breeze and sun.
No compass needs to guide me.
The bees abuzz above my face think
I am blossom, pollen-filled,
drunk with natural honey.

(Nolcha)

Cradled by the rocking fears
of Zeus. My fins, outstretched fingers,
tease owls. Their eyes set the sun.
I bask in Nyx's light & Hypnos' songs.
And descend into the indigo myth
until a new dawn.

(Barbara)

How many rebirths must it take
to attain such freshness
a petal, rippling in the green cloud.
Ancient fears fall away like scales, one by one,
even ancient wisdom loses its way.
You float, no longer needing purpose, listening
as all things burst into bloom.
Our flesh, too,
grows white and light, ready to be reborn.

(Yongbo)

I sail on green shadow lake.
Blossoms and branches sway.
Petals land on my shoulders,
are breeze-kissed to water,
a floating reminder
that I am here
before I've gone.

(Belinda)

(Belinda)

小怪兽

我忽然与一株绝迹野花有了关联

未曾被压制,当它所有花瓣重新舒展。

我曾藏身于岩壁洞穴之间

而今再度存在于

万物盛放的明亮天际之间

在这重现的时节

我是蜷伏在花粉里的温顺异兽

像一只目眩神迷的蜜蜂

(海伦)

我漂浮在暖意、微风与阳光里

无需罗盘指引方向

嗡嗡掠过我脸庞的蜜蜂们

都以为我是盛放的花

满身花粉,沉醉于天然蜜露

(诺尔查)

在宙斯摇荡的恐惧中安睡

我的鳍,舒展的手指

逗弄着猫头鹰。它们的眼睛点亮太阳

我沉浸在倪克斯的柔光

与许普诺斯的歌声里

沉入靛蓝色的神话深处

直至新的黎明降临

(芭芭拉)

需要多少次重生,才能有如此的清新

如一片花瓣,在绿云中荡漾

那些古老的恐惧如鳞片一一褪去

甚至那些古老的智慧也失去了方向

你漂浮着,不再需要目的,你在倾听

万物如花怒放。我们的肉身

也一同变得洁白而轻盈,准备再次重生

(永波)

我泛舟于绿影之湖

花枝轻摇

花瓣落上肩头

又被微风吻入水中

这飘零的提醒证明

在我离去之前

我曾在此

(贝琳达)

Belinda Subraman's art and poetry have appeared in many publications both online and in print. She is editor and publisher of GAS:  Poetry, Art and Music, an online zine and video show as well as a group on Facebook. She also does video interviews of poets and artists for GAS and Beatlife ezines. There are 247 videos pertaining to the arts and activism on her YouTube channel. https://www.youtube.com/@BelindaSubraman 

~

Ma Yongbo is a Ph.D., representative of Chinese avant-garde poetry, and a leading scholar in Anglo-American poetry. He has published over 80 original works and translations since 1986, including 6 poetry collections. He focuses on translating and teaching Anglo-American poetry and prose, including the works of Dickinson, Whitman, Stevens, Pound, Williams, and Ashbery. He recently published a complete translation of Moby Dick, which sold over half a mission copies. He teaches at Nanjing University of Science and Technology.

The Collected Poems of Ma Yongbo (4 volumes, Eastern Publishing Centre, 2024) includes 1178 poems and celebrates 40 years of writing poetry.

~

Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨 is the English co-translator of Chinese poet Ma Yongbo 马永波, her official translator. She is a committee member of CB1 Poetry, the established monthly poetry reading event in central Cambridge UK, which has organised poetry readings for many years. CB1 features up-and-coming writers and well-known poetry names.

Her work has been translated into Chinese, Bangla, Greek, Vietnamese, Serbian, Korean, Arabic, Italian, Albanian, and Romanian.

Website:  https://www.helenpletts.com/

~

Barbara Harris Leonhard is the author of Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir (2022) and The Lost Book of Zeroth (2025). She is co-author of Too Much Fun to Be Legal (2024) and Broken Rengay: Unruly Poetry (2025). She's a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. Trending Poets named her Poet of the Year in 2023 and 2024. Her poetry has been translated into Italian, Albanian, and Chinese. She is the Editor for MasticadoresUSA and FEED THE HOLY. Her blog: Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver.

~

Nolcha Fox's poems have been curated in print and online journals. A best-selling author, her poetry books are available on Amazon and Dancing Girl Press. Nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize multiple times. Editor of Chewers by Masticadores and LatinosUSA.

Website:  https://writingaddiction2.wordpress.com/

An Esoteriku by Vishal Prabhu

 

Tibetan incense
I bring home
a little bit of now

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Educated as a chemical engineer, partly at Georgia Tech, Atlanta, Vishal Prabhu has since tried to escape writing a bio. The former was not his fault.

An Esoteriku by Randy Brooks

 

chew of rhubarb
a counter spell for
unrequited love

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Randy Brooks is Professor of English Emeritus at Millikin University, where he teaches a haiku course. Randy and Shirley Brooks are publishers of Brooks Books and co-editors of Mayfly haiku magazine. His most recent publication is HAIKU DECK which features 52 haiku, one each for 52 cards. See the web page:  https://www.brooksbookshaiku.com/Brooks-HaikuDeck.html

An Esoteriku by Kala Ramesh

 

wind, the pied piper!
any which way it goes
leaves follow

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Kala Ramesh, a renowned pioneer of haikai literature in India, was shortlisted for the Rabindranath Tagore Literary Prize in 2019 for her book, Beyond the Horizon Beyond. Founder of Triveni Haikai India and haikuKATHA Journal, Kala conceptualised and curated Triveni Utsav 2025, the ninth festival she has organised since 2006. HAIKUcharades: imaging haiku through dance and music and haibunSLAM are her contributions to the haikai world. Her book of tanka, tanka prose and tanka doha, the forest i know, was published by HarperCollins India in July 2021. Kala co-edited amber i pause, Triveni Volunteer Dhanyavaad Anthology, published by Hawakal. From 2024 Kala has initiated Triveni on Wheels, where she organised Triveni members' haikai reading in various cities, literary festivals and organisations.