Under the Bashō 2024
Linked Forms, Sequences and Contrapuntal Poetry
Editor: Clayton Beach
- Details
- Written by: Praniti Gulyani
war drama…
a curtain of fingers
over my baby’s eyes
plastic gun…
even the ants
stop and smirk
first uniform…
his shirt wrinkled
like my forehead
gunshot…
how closely connected
this bougainvillea
war memorial…
choosing the flowers
that seem to cry
cleaning his gun…
now I converse
with fallen dust
soldier’s boots…
the edges of his soles
criss-crossed with life
uniform pockets…
by a crumpled cigarette
bits of conversation
closing tombstone…
a curtain of fingers
over my eyes
Praniti Gulyani
- Details
- Written by: Lakshman Bulusu & Amoolya Kamalnath
lyre notes without pause -
the summer breeze carries
me on the ocean
the whipped cream
topping on my cold coffee
slushy fruit punch
icing down my throat
as I swallow it
refreshed children
queue for the roller-coaster
at the water park
sunrise to sunset
sfumato of my daydreams
still climbing
the rainbow to reach
the perfect home
Lakshman Bulusu
Amoolya Kamalnath
- Details
- Written by: Charles Trumbull & Rafał Zabratyński
truckers’ cafe
a night waitress wipes the crumbs
from the counter
the red dragon tattoo guy's
one more last scotch on the rocks
final call—
rousing the groggy barfly
in the corner booth
24/7 sign
wee hours between night owls
and early birds
the streetwalker’s long shadow—
a merchant sweeps in the dawn
stray cat's yawn
a waste picker drinks up
the unfinished beer
Charles Trumbull
Rafał Zabratyński
- Details
- Written by: Xenia Tran
can I slow down
what time we’re given
to greet mouse-tail moss
the speckled wood who warms
her wings after the rain
a shaft of light
through long shadows
you trace a line
where ghosts of me
still hug the elder tree
mist curtains
one side of the shed
free from light
redshank sleeps whose gold
only the dead can see
an inner sun rises
where cherry blossom blooms
before the moon gate
roots are lined
with tamarisk moss
we weep
to be reminded
of such beauty
and sing of butterflies
no longer here
- Details
- Written by: Pamela Garry
glossy buttercups
under their chins
first base
knockout rose
on the brink of blooming
armed with thorns
a bissel vow
chrysanthemum in her hair
full of promise
first-time grandparents
playing peekaboo
crocuses in snow
green shoots
betwixt brittle twigs
passing the torch
wildflowers
about the grassy knoll
swaying with the wind
- Details
- Written by: Gwen Bitti and Marilyn Humbert
wrapped in
a merino shawl
I watch
forked lightning sprint
across a smudged sky
hiding
lies behind smiles
the games
he plays quick-stepping
through each day
uncovering
truth in each charade
the scent
of charred embers
imbued with sorrow
sunshine slants
between window slats
the changing
patterns through each day…
time to consider choices
the river
alters old channels…
in relentless ebb and flow
embraces
new pathways
a flood
after weeks of rain
brings regeneration…
I lock the front door
and move interstate
Gwen Bitti and Marilyn Humbert
- Details
- Written by: Samantha Sirimanne Hyde & Marilyn Humbert
meandering
onto a hidden path
an unexpected trove…
vibrant blue belongings
of a male satin bowerbird
buttress roots
entangle my feet
camouflage
lacy mushroom clumps
mosses and lichen
raindrops
trickle off eucalypts
specking the track
smudged paw prints
etched along my way
watchful eyes
in the undergrowth
the prickles
of known and unknown
dangers…wandering alone
sundown
chant of night insects
intensifying...
the glow of a campfire
a welcome distraction
a powerful owl’s
haunting call echoes
through the gloom…
you pass me my navy scarf
a gift from last year’s trip
Samantha Sirimanne Hyde & Marilyn Humbert
- Details
- Written by: Danny Blackwell and Tim Murphy
at the crack of dawn
a rooster crowing far away . . .
the last days of winter
waking from a jetlag dream
the sound of cats in love
flowers falling
from the Judas tree
memories of childhood
gazing into the rock pool
scent of fish and chips
cold moon dipping
behind the hills, the horizon
seems to draw nearer
crunched snow glitters in the night
approaching the warmth of indoors
*
flushing away
the last bag of speed
one day clean
a mind flooded with dark thoughts
standing at the crossroads again
the blues guitarist
solos with a broken string
to roaring applause
above the river delta
clouds drifting out to sea
catching the red-eye
my mind wanders until you
point out the flight map
on a forest bike trail
tonguing the autumn rain
the snake awaiting
its prey, a stick in the spokes
makes the world happen
grumble of a wild boar
the archer checks his quiver
a corn tortilla,
the last one in the basket,
is it you or me
first picnic of the year —
three with the sun and my shadow
cherry blossoms
a lone swan swims past
the river bank
upon arrival, the trees
already bare: April fools
at the train station
the trash can fills up
with shiny sweet wrappers
vapor escaping the bamboo steamer
of the busy bao stall
first light
missing her
breathing
tamping the coffee with a spoon
the way you used to do
summer rain
I cook for two, lay the table for two,
then eat alone
the line of ants marching on
from where to where I know not
supermarket
a homeless man
speaks of the Bible
antediluvian conspiracies;
a leak in the roof
a lounge lizard
swims another length
of the hotel pool
sunning itself on a rock
the bush clover's shadow
harvest moon
in Madrid, longing for
Madrid
vile garrote at his neck
the bandit Luis Candelas
*
two girls argue
over who puts the collar
on the puppy
baptized baby's gibberish
drowning out clumsy Latin
in the distance
the sound of an explosion
motionless mime
the willows burst under the fireworks
then return to darkness
cherry blossoms
landing on the cabbage
a white butterfly
the child’s kite swoops
back towards the hilltop
Danny Blackwell and Tim Murphy
- Details
- Written by: Joanna Ashwell
moon jar
another seed pod
digging deeper
the labyrinth’s promise
I fold a wish
the weightlessness
of paper sails
over the horizon
in your smile
showing me
the way forward
magnolia buds
Joanna Ashwell
- Details
- Written by: Lorraine Haig
in the storm
clouds’ charcoal fingers
touch the sea
I set out into night
to reach the unknown
the boat
has sunk and I’m adrift
on a raft
you float past me
in the arms of a stranger
are my dreams
a collage of memories
I’m a gypsy
content to wander
the vastness of the mind
Lorraine Haig
- Details
- Written by: Lorraine Haig
amid the trees
my back against this giant
how I wish
my life could be here
with the ferns and mosses
dense silence
among the old ones
may my arms
become branches, my feet
send down their roots
a velvet night
and my pulse slows
I look up
to the canopy
and a shimmer of stars
in the temple
of leaves light filters
to the floor
let the bark of my body
change with the seasons
tread lightly
as the forest has ears
I listen
to the wallabies
jump through shadows
my lungs fill . . .
the mountain’s breath
tumbles
down the ridges
into the sound of water
Lorraine Haig