Today I would like to welcome you to a special edition of the haiku pea podcast, Series 3 Episode 18. It’s special because it is written primarily by you, the community of poets who have become such an important part not just of the podcast but my life too. Thank you all.

For those of you joining us for the first time today, my name is Patricia and I bring you this podcast from a sunny, yet fresh Zürich, the little big city in Switzerland.

Some thank yous before I head off to read you the terrific haiku and senryu in the podcast today. First for the coffees that you donate through the orange button on the website. I’m so grateful to you for sending me coffee donations, it’s like a ray of sunshine when I get a message that a coffee is waiting and it means this month I could take my husband out and thank him for all the work he does for me on the site and for the journal, because as you know, with my neck problems it’s not always possible for me to use my computer. So thank you very much.

Another thank you to Josh Cleveland and his family for inviting me to take part in his haiku podcast. It was a treat for me and although I took part in a written form you can hear a little about me and why I started the haiku pea podcast.

One last thank you to all of you who bought the Summer journal whether in paperback or kindle format. Thank you. I hope you enjoyed it. The next one, Autumn, should be out by the end of October, but I’ll keep you posted.

I hope you enjoyed the reading by Ben Gaa on the last podcast, he will be back in the future to answer your questions and to give a couple more workshops. Remember if you would like to do a reading for us, just email me and I’ll get back to you and also let me know if there is someone you would really like to hear from on the podcast and why and I will try and get hold of them.

We’ll be starting another renku soon, let me know if you would like to take part.

Don’t forget to send me your 20 second videos and haiku, Pea TV Moments is still going strong on YouTube. Don’t miss out on your chance to be a star and if you have a minute, please subscribe to the poetry pea channel on YouTube, it would be most appreciated.

One last thing; look out for the topics for next year. I’m doing something a little different and changing the deadline dates. If you are on the mailing list you’ll get a mail with all the details, if you are not, please sign up, the form is on the website. The next topic is found poetry and of course you have until the 1st of October to email me your submissions. I’m collecting them and will be replying to your emails after the 24th of September so don’t worry if it takes me a little longer than usual, I’m not ignoring you, promise.

Previously published work:

You’re my heroine
Even though you’re full of it
Please–return to me

Richard Bailly

poetry soup 2019 About someone potentially lost to heroin.

circles of lichen
I thought we would have
more time

Debbie Strange
3rd Place
2018 Kaji Aso Studio Haiku Contest

dad’s ashtray
the conversations
we never had

Iiliyana Stoyanova from “Root” the British haiku society members anthology 2019

now showing
at the old drive-in—

Kathryn Bold
Modern Haiku 50.1

day blurs into evening
into night…

Mary Kendall
Frogpong 43.1

Original haiku and senryu

between funerals
I pause
to repair my lipstick

Joan Barrett

in the wildlife park
a s h e s

Christina Chin

the weight
of what’s already gone

Lorraine A Padden

grave site –
we help each other
cross the ice

**Janice Doppler

at the graveside
quarrelling with his wife

**Samo Kreutz

breaking waves
I keep writing the name
they erase

Vandana Parashar

prolonged ringing
I brace to hear
your voicemail

Kelli Lage

devour the names
set in stone

Hannah Hulbert

haiku habit
counting syllables
in his goodbye note

**Jackie Chou

memorial service
a bird soars high
in the gathering dusk

**Bona M Santos

the blue jay and sparrow
share a tiny tombstone
storm damage

Barbara Carlson

do not ask why
just say goodbye
release with love

Richard Bailly

she washes the sheets
shattered motherhood

Tracy Davidson

falls on ground


still searching for her child
inside herself

**Maya Daneva

onion peeled
endless illumination
haiku weeps

Wayne Kingston

empty nest –
something of me
in the waning moon

**arvinder kaur

battered nest
all my siblings
in the wind

Jonathan Roman

unexpectedly she plays
childhood piano tune

Giddy Nielsen Sweep

will we remember
jumping to the endless sounds
of youth going wild?

**Bryan Myers

Seven years on
The echoes of my screams
Die too

Richard Hargreaves

scent of sunlight
in mother’s hair

Veronika Zora Novak

hot steamy night
she lies cold —
in his absence

Linda L Ludwig

on the terrace
facing the sun
an empty chair

Prof  RK  Singh

her red bra
long after she left it

Rp Verlaine

piano practice —
what my fingers
no longer remember

Angela Terry

slanted sunlight—
swing shadows sway
on the fence

Elaine Wilburt

sandy shoreline –
forgotten buckets
bring back memories

**Bill Fay

childhood home
putting my memories
on the market

**Jennifer Hambrick

estate sale
closing down
a life

Valentina Ranaldi Adams

even as we talk
of childhood friends
winter rain

Richard Tice

summer rain
trying to remember
grandma’s voice

Tomislav Sjekloća

summer rain
no voice
but a face


man’s best friend
the water dish –
still full.

Laura Driscoll

instead of
a headstone
your dog bowl

Jane Berg

one by one
go dark

**Bob Carlton

late summer
the evening shortens
to a blackbird’s call

Marilyn Ward

lying by the path
a bird’s dry dusty body
the silent dawn

Patrick Stephens

the cry of the gull
high above empty sand dunes
low autumnal tides

Sarah Bint Yusef

ibis circling
in thick morning fog
white on white

**Dawn Toomey

silent spring
i can still see
the birds

Robert Horrobin

i admire
the lovely fish tank
eating sushi

S Narayanan

by the road
armadillo’s shell
all his plans

David Oates

pillow talk –
my son asks for a pound
from the tooth fairy

Dorothy Burrows

incomplete smile
the tooth fairy
drops her shiny coin

Cyrille Soliman

old age home
the leaves fall
with no noise

**Neena Singh

ah, this complex life
inevitable losses
necessary gains

Andrew Syor

a sand Buddha
only the head is left
by the waves

Bakhtiyar Amini

her voice on a breeze
a feather

Kim Russell

a bruise upon a bruise – sayonara

James Young

bomb blasts
doll survives
lifeless hands

Anjali Warhadpande

he dumps his hiking boots –
he’ll never climb

**Peter Adair

broken nib
the i’s and the j’s
lose their heads

Srinivas S

night train
the window reflects
the rain inside

Zahra  Mughis

crescent moon
my empty arms
a broken plate

**Eve Castle

dressed in rags
deft Little fingers
stich garments

Lekha Desai Morrison

another adult
another adult

**Alex Fyffe

revised resume
letting go
of old dreams

Kathleen Tice

camouflaged –
nestling in shingle
my missing keys

Jenni Wyn Hyatt

lost keys
i retrace
my steps


unplugging from the
world is not the world’s loss-
it is yours

Ian Speed

the postman retires
who will speak to me

Roberta Beach Jacobson

child bride
the crushed petals
of a plucked flower

Rashmi VeSa

a week after
the mastectomy
bra commercials

Deborah P Kolodji

couch on the curb
someone takes
the “FREE” sign

Dan Burt

the rainy day
is silent

Rajeshwari Srinivasan

and the sound of
lost birds

Mike Rehling

human touch
a hug or a handshake

RJ Tungsten

daybreak —
the world wallows
in disaster

Willie R Bongcaron

from her car
a masked friend waves
falling cherry blossoms

Doris Lynch

reaching for a face mask
the feel of summer

Craig Kittner

front line casualties
replace soldiers

**Ronald K Craig

the magpie surveys
empty city sidewalks
faces behind glass

Trey Treeful

the friendly obscenities
of the workplace

Mike Gallagher

At night we lie there
staring at the ceiling fan
regrets float on air

**Bruce Lomas

much to confess pale dawn

Richa Sharma

dead wind –
she opposes

Paul Callus

open door
the streetlight casts a glow
on an ending

Sarah Mahina Calvello

this morning
I choose solitude

Dr Tim Gardiner

cloud shadow
passes over the sundial
in real time

Maggie Roycraft

long dry summer
the willow branch doesn’t
reach the river

Robin Rich

fresh snow
only the top
of Buddha’s head

Kristen Linquist

a green leaf
cast in the shade
no voice

Riham El Ashry

falling leaves—
the weight of each

m shane pruett

banks deposit dirt
into the swollen river
withdrawing ground

Beth Cusack

one colour
covering the garden

Damir Damir

dry lake bed
the rainy season’s
unresisted path

Erin Castaldi

in my hair
the wind of waves…
summer dream

Daniela Misso

a swing
the old branch creaks
back and forth

**Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo

cool wind of twilight
…dawn approaches

BA France

dutiful routine
new flowers
for old

Rob McKinnon

a tree’s
last breath…
paper stars

Isabel Caves

the sun surrenders
to an awaiting sea
night and you are gone

Robert Quezada

deadheading roses
accidental bee run-in
one less bee

Linda L Kruschke

heavy rain
weeping willow

**JP Meredith

how calmly you leave
this earth

Tiffany Shaw Diaz

winter jasmine
we inhale the scent
of dying stars

Debbie Strange

soaking up
the now…nothing goes
down the drain

wendy c. bialek

So once again, my thanks to everyone, whether you submitted some work for today, or came along to listen. Don’t forget I put the podcast on Youtube now too.

It was lovely to have so many poets who were new to us today and if you are listening and were thinking of sending some work, please do. I’m generally quite nice. I know what it’s like to submit for the first time, so just put your work in the body of an email, take a deep breath and press send. You might just get some news that will make you smile.

Take care everyone until we meet again next month, the first Monday of October. And most importantly, keep writing…

I may not have everyone on the poet’s directory just yet, time might be against me, but please check and send me an email if I have missed you out, I will get there.

Series 3 Episode 18: Loss

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