All I learned from these endless debates about climate change and how to deal with it is the odd word “whataboutism”.
at the crossroad
of our illusions
a spit of snow
Eva Limbach
Working
I was called for a consultation in an intensive care unit. I visit the patient, I prescribe analysis and I say that I will return to re-evaluate tomorrow. I’ll be back if the patient is still there.
shop –
the flowers
all sold
Antonio Mangiameli
A Little Change in “what to send”
Dear writers and participants on The Other Bunny,
starting from today, November 20, 2019, haibun with “I, me, my” as focus points, haibun centered on personal feelings and emotions stressing “I, me, my” aspect of your writing WILL NOT be considered/accepted.
I do this as an experiment, as my little attempt to counter the growing narcissism in the cyber sphere and in poetry in general.
I will however welcome more experiments, more “wild” things.
Haibun already accepted will be published as per usual on Mondays.
Johannes S. H. Bjerg
Editor
Also check out the “About” page
Unfolding
She dips into that flower, so much so, it’s self-watering.
the taste of smooth pink mysteries
Peter Jastermsky
Heard, Not Heard
It’s never mentioned. The sounds it picks up, invisible, in plain sight.
lost in translation
van gogh’s
other ear
Peter Jastermsky
Identities
This time, he used vinegar, certain that its acidity would clear his vision.
“not my mirror!”
wearing thin
regrettable creatures
Peter Jastermsky
The wind carries away the fog
I have realized my mortality! I have told my story! Have I found peace? Sporadically, in acceptance that I am divided in my belief in whether the earth is on its way to a new ice age, or on the contrary.
Finding peace is the same as allowing it . Am I not allowed to drop the fight, surrender to my flower life, and drink nectar?
my head is
openly filled with cells
a beehive
Mona Larsen
