On the emerald Isle of Eire amidst deep blue seas faraway, A band of naughty leprechauns gather on the evenin’ of St. Paddy’s Day. Wearin’ top hats and waistcoats of green with silver buckled belts and shoes, Tight stockin’s instead of breeches they wear in colors of their favorite hues. Naughty eyes wink ‘bove rosy…

Gramma would always take us wit her fo see dem. Da rustee ol screen doah wit couple pukas inside, creek as we wen open um. Insai was da jade lady wit her jingly jangly jewelry, always wit her hair up in one bun, an flowahs to decorate. Wit her was da smily face, you could…

Hanafuda  Moon you gaze down at me Orion  hovers above sitting on Tutu’s front porch,  bathing in silver moon and starlight waiting patiently  for hanami,  when the cherry blossoms in Waimea town  turn the trees mochi pink and bubble gum red a pueo,  the hunter of the night, screeches past  laughing at the Hanafuda Moon.

      “Chris,” my dad began, “there are two things in this world that mean everything to a real man. I’m talking about the ingredients that make real men. Do you understand me? Are you following my thinking on this?”      I slurped up another spoonful of Frosted Flakes. I nodded my head “yes.” I remember having…

Hanging Out One morning I decided that I wasn’t going to wait for cancer, an accident, dementia, or suicide to finish this trip called life. No longer interested in writing, dancing, teaching, sex, eating, drinking and such, I climbed the tallest tree in the park dressed in my finest nakedness. I sat in the neck…

There is no word limit for your entries. HOWEVER, we are also looking for haiku entries, if you are so inclined : ) The triggers for this month are lines taken from the following two texts. Find them here: BAMBOO RIDGE Issue Number 103, BEYOND GREEN TEA AND GRAPEFRUIT, Poems and Stories by Gail N….

My dad thought humans Were the cancer Of the universe. He despised what we’re doing To our only planet Earth. He contended that, If there are indeed other habitable planets, We’ll likely find them And fuck them up too. He also thought the Universe Could be a single Being Living in a different, Much larger,…

     That summer I was slaving at the record store. Galaxy of Sound, where the stars come out. That advertising slogan is burned in my brain. Every time I recite it, I picture faces materializing in a dark sky. Gordon Lightfoot or Linda Ronstadt, at the speed of light, coming right at me out of the…

There is no word limit for your entries. HOWEVER, we are also looking for haiku entries, if you are so inclined : ) The triggers for this month are lines taken from the following two texts. Find them here: BAMBOO RIDGE Issue Number 101, THE NANJING MASSACRE POEMS, by Wing Tek Lum BAMBOO RIDGE Issue…

Part One East Bremerton was called Manette back then, and it had the same relationship to the Navy town of Bremerton as Brooklyn has to Manhattan: Inferior. Also, a tall bridge over tidal water connected them. Manette featured several World War II-era barracks-style housing projects, still occupied by holdover military families. Those were the good…