marriage counselling
cushions on one side
of the sofa
writer’s cabin
letting in
the sun
Debbi Antebi
London, UK
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
weekender
blackberry vines
mend the picket fence
where the blue
begins and ends…
seagull wings
Gavin Austin
Sydney, Australia
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
projectile
the morning paper
in the pond again
souvenir tea-towel
adding a gum leaf
to the billy
Ingrid Baluchi
North Macedonia
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
monsoon breeze
the scent of pakoras
from ma’s kitchen
Dr Mona Bedi.
Delhi, India
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
autumn wind –
still in the same place
dad’s old chair
Mirela Brăilean
România
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
curfew
the sky wide open
for the birds
Pitt Büerken
Münster / Germany
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
grass trees
a silent audience
in the amphitheatre
the popularity
of primary colours —
crimson rosellas
Rohan Buettel
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
security question
my first pet Stinky
lives on
fish on my plate
I avoid eye contact
with the cat
Alanna C. Burke
Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
Reflection
in the window
a young bird begs
sign of the times
on the church gate
book sale this way
Coral Carter
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
face down
on the haystack . . .
a scarecrow
summer noon . . .
the coconut vendor sleeps
under his cart
Kanchan Chatterjee
Jamshedpur. Jharkhand. India.
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
new yams roasting—
the rising heat
of old opinions
headland
wrapped in mist
and whalesong
Lysa Collins
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
hotel bible
sooner or later
time to check out
Alvin B. Cruz
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
last hug—
the goodbye
before tears
marching
the weight of war medals
old legs remember
Gary Colombo De Piazzi
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
Honeymoon
where the sins of the flesh
no longer apply
bleak house
the keyhole stuffed
against the wind
Mike Gallagher
Ireland
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
longest day . . .
training my horse to walk
through the mud
Goran Gatalica
Croatia
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
he makes me feel
like a child again
not young just small
Candy Gordon
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
rabbits come and go
above the daisy fields
and bones
Cameron Haworth
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
Olympics
the wattle blossoms
brighter this year
lockdown yoga
my boat pose
sinking fast
Louise Hopewell
Melbourne, Australia
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
sunday at the museum
cleaning lady washes
buddha’s eyes
Vladislav Hristov.
Plovdiv, Bulgaria
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
dry creek bed
a dingo’s howl
unanswered
Marilyn Humbert
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
Headstone
a spider abseils
across broken webs
Zina Ioannou
Sydney, NSW
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
rosellas and wrens
wheel and chase
prayer flags
Earl Livings
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
on a thistle
the same bee
that pollinates my daises
2020
a masked ball
with no dancing
judging every move
of the gymnast
my cat
Wilda Morris
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
buttered scones
the widow tempts
the mailman
well past
their best before date
my thought and prayers
Nika
Calgary, AB, Canada
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
cancelled event—
my dress hangs
empty
Jaya Penelope
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
a still winter night …
the clock and i
still working
Amrutha Prabhu
Bengaluru, India
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
hard copy mag
with two fingers
I try to zoom in
Carol Reynolds
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
gentle swell the paddle-boarder’s wetsuit still dry
pandemic
she polishes the leaves
of her fiddle-leaf fig
Cynthia Rowe
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
bare branches
visiting the landmarks
that shaped you
Liv Saint James
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
a heron wades
knee deep
a crocodile winks
Barry Sanbrook
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
Broome airport –
a flock of red necked stints
head for the bay
Maureen Sexton
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
August winds
the cat grass bends
his whiskers
Tom Staudt
Sydney, Australia
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
hang gliding
the sequential take-off
of fledglings
Debbie Strange
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
still water
the decorator crab
all dressed up
Richard Thomas
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
closed for renovations
butterfly wings clip
the long grass
Rose van Son
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
he brings some home
on his sleeping bag
forest scent
David Watts
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
for the kitchen vase
a clutch of dandelions
in my toddler’s hand
spring thaw—
the dirt where dad
would have planted seeds
crackling fire—
a hint of eggnog
in her kiss
uptown bus—
the strangers in front of me
exhaust their conversation
Michael Dylan Welch
Sammamish, Washington, USA
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
summer solstice
the lengthening list
of evening chores
Elaine Wilburt
Creatrix 54 – Haiku
sultry night
the moon slips quietly
into the pool
Tony Williams
Scotland, UK
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
uphill walk
the deepening breath
of eucalyptus
autumn’s shadow
mother’s spectacles
outgrown her
Ramesh Anand.
India
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
stirring branches
the rattle
of rusted leaves
the fires
of sunset and storm
his opal tiepin
gran’s living-room
the flying ducks
lower now
Gavin Austin
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
nursing home
i tell her
she lived through the war
Michael Baeyens.
Geraardsbergen, Belgium
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
two-seater desk
dipping pens
into the blue-black
Ingrid Baluchi
North Macedonia
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
poised
for yoga
bonsai
we launch
a paper boat
on a moonbeam
each haiku
in the shadow
of another
Roberta Beach Jacobson
Indianola, Iowa, USA
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
morning glories
a girl unfastens
her necklace
when bud
becomes scent
magnolia
so many footprints
in just one of mine
sandpiper
scent
of plum blossoms
the keisaku strikes
(A keisaku is a flat wooden stick used to strike a Zen meditator on the shoulder when he or she appears to lose concentration.)
Tom Bierovic
DeLand, Florida, USA
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
social isolation …
the sound of
other people’s lives
autumn ginko
three ibises
nod in unison
a red leaf
on the walkway
last day of summer
the butcher bird
checks for grubs—
swaddled baby
Nathalie Buckland.
Lismore, NSW, Australia
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
eastern greys
the alpha male
a body builder
palm tree
each new frond
a raised spear
Rohan Buettel
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
third lockdown
the spring of my ideas
dries up
in the street
where we children used to play
bumper to bumper
Pitt Büerken
Germany
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
mystery
on the poetry shelf
ragweed
bitter espresso
his love letter
under the coffee cup
each day
a year
pandemic
Alanna C. Burke
Santa Fe, New Mexico. USA
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
New Year’s Eve …
a mannequin’s smirk
follows me
early morning chill …
a billow of smoke rises
from the fresh pyre
Kanchan Chatterjee.
Jamshedpur, Jharkhand. India
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
splashing
in her morning bath—
tree frogs
grandmother’s garden—
the scent of phlox
and solace
Lysa Collins
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
an ostrich escapes
in lockdown…oh
to be in her shoes
old vinyl records
of all things my father
can’t forget
Alvin B Cruz
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
breaststroke
I am Moses
on a smaller scale
Stephen C Curro.
Windsor, USA
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
summer dawn
a conversation of bees
at the birdbath
spider’s web
her lacey knickers
on clothes line
partial eclipse
the man in the moon
wears a cap
Gary Colombo De Piazzi
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
so dark outside—
all I can see
is my own reflection
Nick Eaves
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
after the wind
we roll the mangoes
back under the fence
cremation—
the dryness
of held hands
David Käwika Eyre.
Volcano, Hawai’i
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
summer rain—
tiny ponds
in deer prints
sword ferns—
from a single helix
new fronds
moon shine—
raccoons in headlights
search the garbage
Bill Fay
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
holding back
dropping a letter
into the postbox
a single oak
fifty years on
a lone crow
Mike Gallagher.
Ireland
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
beginnings
always easier
than endings
the curve
of her smile
shapes my day
empty wheelie bin
chatters down the laneway
his sole companion
Candy Gordon
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
leaf cutter ants
the tattered banners
of empire
John Hawkhead.
Bradford on Avon
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
vaccination centre
a nurse explains
all the ins and outs
sunshower
a broken rainbow
in every puddle
Louise Hopewell.
Melbourne
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
behind bars …
the canary sings
to his reflection
Marilyn Humbert
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
washhouse
perfectly white
cloud above it
Samo Kreutz.
Ljubljana, Slovenia
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
sunny sandstone—
the masonic lodge
keeps its secrets
every moment
beneath the bridge
a new river
John Low.
Portland, NSW
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
ambulance
the moon follows us
all the way
long journey
my ex introduces me
to her ex
happy hour
the old musician in a chair
still rocking
Myron Lysenko
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
bush greenhood
all dad’s tales when
I was young
more gentle
than she’s ever been
new-laid egg
Marietta McGregor
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
outback highway …
vehicles brrrrr across
metal cattle grids
Rob McKinnon
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
house proud
she brushes me
out the door
Margaret Mahony
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
bauhinia leaf
sunlit tracery
butterfly wings
Diana Messervy
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
laptop updating …
the drip drip drip of rain
in the downpipe
Leanne Mumford.
Sydney, Australia
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
family bible
between Genesis 2 & 4
a pressed blossom
pandemic
she lights a candle
for her son
Nika
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
new suit
to the undertaker
unworn
Karen Phillips.
Yarra Ranges, Victoria
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
covid-19
the books in the bookcase
all fall down
school yard
the raven picks up
a McDonald’s box
Zaidee Pisani-Lysenko (10 years old)
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
painted fingernails …
she whispers checkmate
with the ivory rook
daydream …
the girl that never was
beside the lake
Milan Rajkumar.
Imphal, India
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
ageing …
together we remember
what we forget
childhood home
I watched the outhouse
move in
dawn service
magpies fly low
over the crowd
milking time
the herd separated
by traffic
Carol Reynolds
NSW, Australia
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
debate season
splitting logs
with a dull ax
mackerel sky
the wrinkles I can’t
iron out
giggling children
the rhythm of
millipede legs
autumn breeze
stirring
a locust song
Bryan Rickert.
Belleville, Illinois, USA
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
drawing a curve …
my brother teaches me
Surya Namaskar
Rose
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
the split space
between stump and sky
—an elegy
Conor Ross
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
a lone peewit
with a mouthful of spider …
trapped in my thoughts
sleepless night
possums squabble
in the almond tree
resort umbrella
a bikini-clad swimmer
shelters from the rain
Cynthia Rowe
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
demonstrators
her abuse
painted in words
sentinels
dawn paints
their branches
stained glass
melted
a fable turned white
Barry Sanbrook
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
deeper than the
hoot of snowy owls
winter solitude …
her fingers
trace my back
home coming …
Joe Sebastian
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
flooded canal—
the frequent pause
of a spider
as if
snow in April…
cherry blossoms
Manoj Sharma.
Kathmandu, Nepal
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
wildflowers
cut into patterns
sewing class
a gardener
and his lawn
perfect buzzcuts
earthquake
my washing machine
hits spin cycle
the old man
and his dog
waiting for sunset
Tom Staudt
Sydney, Australia
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
looks me up and down
one hand against a tree
lace monitor
Kaelin Stemmler
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
perfect skin
the excitement of freckles
here and there
David Watts
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
colourless
in the moonlight
your prize roses
the drought-brown mesa
with nothing left to offer—
coronavirus
all daisies and dandelions the hippy’s lawn
Michael Dylan Welch.
Sammamish, Washington, USA
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
I see blossoms
returning to twig
a bottle of wine
Chen Xiaoou.
Kunming China
Creatrix 53 – Haiku
plastic rake
a nest of fibreglass
among the leaves
eyes front soldier crabs march
sideways
tibouchina
an autumn flowering
at the nursing home
dawn chorus
remembering
morse code
Quendryth Young.
Alstonville, NSW, Australia
Creatrix 53 – Poetry
Annus Horribilis
It has been an Annus Horribilis
and now we hope it has come to an end.
We hope that, at last, we are on the mend.
It has been an Annus Horribilis,
if it doesn’t stop, I’ll go round the bend,
it is enough, God, no need to bill us!
It has been an Annus Horribilis
and now we hope it has come to an end.
By imposing stupidity taxes
we can lobotomize anti-vaxxers!
Derek Fenton
Creatrix 53 – Poetry
Bloodied Fruit
A young man’s penknife cleaves the peach
she lies still – watching clouds
bruised as her thighs – blot a faded
future – on the point of his knife he offers a slice – peace to
pursed lips – his contrite eyes cool to slate –
knifes her closed lips – another
stab – tastes blood – swallows loss.
Diana Messervy
Creatrix 53 – Poetry
Playground
The children go inside
vacate the playground
and leave the light
to play alone
glancing and beaming
as a truant wind scrapes
a dry leaf along the ground
like a small boy grazing
his knee.
Julian O’Dea
Creatrix 53 – Poetry
brièveté
.. what is a poem .. .. ..
i hear you s – i – i – i – i – g h .. ..
.. .. .. .. .. .. ..
to tell a truth
or .. ..
half a lie
Geoff Spencer
Creatrix 53 – Poetry
New foundations
The slab’s gone down
concrete footings
wire mesh
pipes sticking out
What a collection! These poems will hopefully entrance, move, terrify, mystify, amuse, and leave readers wondering at the huge range of experience and wisdom encapsulated in their condensed images and succinct phrases.
These poems have been written over a ten-year period since the publication of my first book in 2011. They deal mainly with love: for my children and grandchildren, for travel, for art, for nature, and for the many people with whom I’ve fallen in love over a lifetime.
The poems also explore the many poetic forms I’ve discovered along the way and couldn’t wait to try out.
‘Combining a zoologist’s keen eye and scientific training with a poet’s flair for vivid imagery, Laurie Smith both informs and delights in this collection with his laconic style and dry wit. A lifetime of experiences has been sifted and filtered into very fine and memorable poems. There are portraits, reflections and many “mini” narratives to add variety to the lyric moments of this much-awaited volume.’
Congratulations to all of the poets who were selected for inclusion in this anthology.
'There are many more things that great writers, philosophers and religious leaders have written about love but I will spare you them because the entrants to the Poetry d’Amour competition have most competently extended the meaning of love in their wonderful poems.
Indeed, much more has been taught to me by them about that four-letter-word LOVE.'
There are so many gifts here: History experienced as history lived in a body; kindness and the difficulty of kindness; tender and patient reflection in the presence of pain. In the face of bullet holes. This is a work of generational, locational and situational introspection that yields, at its own life-fruiting pace, a gleaning---of courageous clear-seeing; of compassion addressed to contradiction and contention; of empathy. I am thankful it came calling.
Infinite Ends is an expansive collection. Presented chronologically, it is Blakeian in its transition from innocence to experience. Intelligent, direct and nuanced Lin's poems enquire and question, explore and wrestle with ideas and experiences. They are muscular and contemplative and plumb relationships with people and place using a variety of forms and styles. Sometimes deeply personal they share the universality of grief and loss without sentimentality but with a raw directness. These are brave poems. There are also poems of joy, shared memory and meaning. Infinite Ends holds the reader close, rewards with vivid images, moments of wry humour and an understated tenderness.