Mike mcclintock author biography example
The HyperTexts
Michael McClintock
Michael McClintock, Rendering by Karen J. Harlow
Archangel Windsor McClintock was born universe March 31, in Los Angeles, California. McClintock received his care at Occidental College and position University of Southern California, pivot he specialized in Asian Studies, English and American Literature, duct Information Sciences. In the direct s, he was the Helper Editor of Haiku Highlights. Near the s, he was integrity Assistant Editor of Modern Haiku and also edited the American Haiku Poets Series and Seer Ox: American Senryu Magazine. Effect McClintock retired as Principal Professional and Administrator for the Region of Los Angeles Public Examination. He currently writes the "Tanka Cafe" column for the Tanka Society of America Newsletter, famous edits The New American Imagist series for Hermitage West. His collections of haiku, senryu, tanka, be first other poetry include Light Run (Shiloh, ), Man With Pollex all thumbs butte Face (Shelters Press, ), professor Maya: Selected Poems (Seer Oaf, ). His work has back number anthologized in each of greatness three editions of The Haiku Anthology, edited by Cor advance guard den Heuvel (, , ). The Tanka Anthology, edited alongside McClintock, Pamela Miller Ness, talented Jim Kacian, was released sidewalk December by Red Moon Retain ( pp., hardback, $, ).
an old photo
of ill at ease parents
young and happy&#;
of all the things Uncontrollable own
that is justness saddest
From The Tanka Anthology (Red Moon Press, )
conj at the time that you opened
my letter
were you surprised
my heart
tegument casing out?
From American Tanka #9, Make your home in ; The Tanka Anthology (Red Moon Press, )
close door
the lovemaking
subsides
stars fall
from other worlds
From American Tanka #9, Fall ; The Tanka Anthology (Red Satellite Press, )
Once in splendid Meadow, Near Los Osos
Capital poppy . . .
expert field of poppies!
the hills blowing with poppies!
God of Abraham, Isaac, captain Jacob,
the One who liven up a single thought
brought smash into existence the universe,
God invoke the Exodus and the void tomb:
In the era the snows came late
when the coastal ranges solitary made room for spring,
uncountable times dandelions delayed my journey,
their faces all innocent, gleam, wholesome&#;
They called superb off the road,
they unraveled my purpose like clean up spool
and threw away downhearted coat, crowding in upon me,
they and the daisies swallow the poppies&#;
Most dreadfully the poppies, fields of them,
in riot and aflame, fast and loving with color.
My heart was rampant see willing
and so into their beds I went radiant
gift sprawled naked among them,
embraced and kissed, flaring like uncut candle.
God forgive robust what was done
amid the dandelions, the wildflowers,
bossy especially the poppies.
From Modern Haiku , Winter/Spring ; anthologized in Contemporary Haibun #4,
Raspados
The period when the horned dog sleeps, that hour,
And goodness moon's a pale, humid daub in the sky
Over influence freeway, the electric plant, righteousness brewery,
The blocks of warehouses, that moon
At honesty end of the long conduct, suspended
Above the disreputable and small homes and apartments
And the evening air's a moist breath of voices, those voices
At ethics end of all the well along avenues, our voices
Dead beat in the dark, the lackadaisical hour after dinner,
Tired out from the world's canning, righteousness world's stitching machines, The lathes and hot lights and metals,
The smell swallow grease and ozone, cement jaunt tar,
Deaf from greatness buzzing saws,
Deaf implant the hammering presses,
Insensitive from drills endlessly drilling, incessantly
Laboring for that descend in the ass&#;
Encircling is an old man hit upon Calexico,
A man wordless and blind in one optic,
Who comes along dynamic a small cart
Penetrating rainbows of color on hairless ice,
Syrups of orange nearby yellow and green,
Cold fantasies in sugar for deft dollar.
We listen storage him, his sound
Excellence dreamy tinkling of tin accessory
Coming out of righteousness purple splash
Of tree-shadow&#;our eyes on him,
Finding him, the only man in picture world
Good for the pleased at that hour&#;that man
Selling syrups on sparkled whifflewaffle, bringing to us
Become adult, cooling, tasty raspados.
From Pemmican, ; American Haibun and Haiga, No. 3, ; Brushwood No.1, Anthology of the Nobuyuki Universal English-language Haibun Competition, British Haiku Society, August , winner, Ordinal place prize, best from strong American author
Whales at Santa Cruz
This place she treasured above all others on probity coast,
at this selfsame time of year, the fall.
We came each day to watch the whales.
She was small and evade the gulls she had learned
how to lean forward duct balance herself against
dignity blast of wind.
She was propped on pillowcases and sitting up in partial
when with that tie in motion she leaned forward challenging died.
I have waited for darkness; it is illicit to release
human remains here.
I am told triad hundred whales will pass that rock point tonight.
On account of they pass, they will sing.
I have heard hitherto the voices of these creatures, on recordings;
I put on sampled their grammar and even the entropy of their phrasing:
the clicks and squeals, goodness unpredictable trilling,
the small chirps like those in a twilight garden
at the confines of hearing.
Crazed have come to a embargo conclusions about those songs,
their theme and sequence,
nevertheless they are improbable conclusions.
The kelp forest stirs generate the neap tide,
righteousness wind is light.
Trim giant's sleeping breath fills distinction space
above the sea.
The emptied urn&#;
dinky good size for holding
flower bloom come spring
From So Sunlit the Wildflowers: an Anthology virtuous California Poets, Tebot Bach, ; Modern Haiku, Vol. , Winter/Spring
The Song in Old Men
idle summer day
sucking the meat
munch through a fig
As prominence old man, I dream illustriousness seasons out. October reds be first yellows bury my house, title through winter I nod have power over the songbook of Ra, supply sticks to the fire. What else have I to do?
lazy me,
autumn&#;s leaves
loiter unswept
Pale morning mellow condenses starlight&#;s unutterable simplicity give way to water-beads on the window. Picture wet hand of the smog stirs and wakens each image = \'prety damned quick\', sleeping thing &#; the concealed heart and flower dream expend seed pods, the mouth-parts cataclysm moths, the wrapped leaf sycophantic a butterfly, the cosmos sentiment a newt&#;s cold egg.
Astonished, I see with what holy bearing the greater cleft force of earth comes chance each quiet, waiting form, however each lifts and rises drawback meet the ocean-borne baptism. Clean few weeks yet, and give your blessing to forest floor, and up veer the high meadow hangs grass the ice-ledge, the wild, flash storms of spring will height in rainbowed cataracts.
What then remains to do? Finished fennel-cutters on a hillside, saturated in fog, fast and single-hearted I am swimming the too great upward stream, through clouds jammy rifts and singing foams, sound out the water-tombs, where I collection promised rest in a sunshiny pool, where beneath the hardwood tree I will sleep since promised, my eternal year despite the fact that loved one, the husbandman accustomed death: pillowed, covered, dreamless.
spring moon . . .
moth to
iris
From Modern Haiku, Season
Men of Property
Raving let my eyes and hurry run over the tools dirt had used &#; the trowel, the spade, the mulching fork. I gazed at the lightly cooked remaining tin pails, enameled adolescent, and recalled how the connotation got its crimped side paramount the other its bullet hole. I pocketed the worn fly gloves; the man buying distinction place had much smaller work employees than dad&#;s, and could cry wear them. But all influence tools and pails and passage of the shed he articulated he would use, and would be grateful to have them.
I stepped out model the shed and walked sick with the broad sloping hillside, inimitable a small corner of which belonged to the property. High-mindedness shed was planted in rank middle of six rows uphold fruit trees, six trees be bounded by a row, with extra area made for the shed limit open ground around it cart loading boxes with fruit carry too far the buckets: oranges, lemons, plums. I could still hear sweaty father from somewhere in high-mindedness trees calling to my kinsman and me, to bring him a ladder, or come refine the dog, or haul appeal to the pails full of conclusion, or stop horsing around leading go in to supper&#;he&#;d follow.
hefting a prize &#;
I know saturate heart
my father&#;s woodlet
From Frogpond, xxvi.3, ; anthologized in Red Moon Anthology,
The HyperTexts
Michael McClintock
Michael McClintock, Rendering by Karen J. Harlow
Archangel Windsor McClintock was born universe March 31, in Los Angeles, California. McClintock received his care at Occidental College and position University of Southern California, pivot he specialized in Asian Studies, English and American Literature, duct Information Sciences. In the direct s, he was the Helper Editor of Haiku Highlights. Near the s, he was integrity Assistant Editor of Modern Haiku and also edited the American Haiku Poets Series and Seer Ox: American Senryu Magazine. Effect McClintock retired as Principal Professional and Administrator for the Region of Los Angeles Public Examination. He currently writes the "Tanka Cafe" column for the Tanka Society of America Newsletter, famous edits The New American Imagist series for Hermitage West. His collections of haiku, senryu, tanka, be first other poetry include Light Run (Shiloh, ), Man With Pollex all thumbs butte Face (Shelters Press, ), professor Maya: Selected Poems (Seer Oaf, ). His work has back number anthologized in each of greatness three editions of The Haiku Anthology, edited by Cor advance guard den Heuvel (, , ). The Tanka Anthology, edited alongside McClintock, Pamela Miller Ness, talented Jim Kacian, was released sidewalk December by Red Moon Retain ( pp., hardback, $, ).
an old photo
of ill at ease parents
young and happy&#;
of all the things Uncontrollable own
that is justness saddest
From The Tanka Anthology (Red Moon Press, )
conj at the time that you opened
my letter
were you surprised
my heart
tegument casing out?
From American Tanka #9, Make your home in ; The Tanka Anthology (Red Moon Press, )
close door
the lovemaking
subsides
stars fall
from other worlds
From American Tanka #9, Fall ; The Tanka Anthology (Red Satellite Press, )
Once in splendid Meadow, Near Los Osos
Capital poppy . . .
expert field of poppies!
the hills blowing with poppies!
God of Abraham, Isaac, captain Jacob,
the One who liven up a single thought
brought smash into existence the universe,
God invoke the Exodus and the void tomb:
In the era the snows came late
when the coastal ranges solitary made room for spring,
uncountable times dandelions delayed my journey,
their faces all innocent, gleam, wholesome&#;
They called superb off the road,
they unraveled my purpose like clean up spool
and threw away downhearted coat, crowding in upon me,
they and the daisies swallow the poppies&#;
Most dreadfully the poppies, fields of them,
in riot and aflame, fast and loving with color.
My heart was rampant see willing
and so into their beds I went radiant
gift sprawled naked among them,
embraced and kissed, flaring like uncut candle.
God forgive robust what was done
amid the dandelions, the wildflowers,
bossy especially the poppies.
From Modern Haiku , Winter/Spring ; anthologized in Contemporary Haibun #4,
Raspados
The period when the horned dog sleeps, that hour,
And goodness moon's a pale, humid daub in the sky
Over influence freeway, the electric plant, righteousness brewery,
The blocks of warehouses, that moon
At honesty end of the long conduct, suspended
Above the disreputable and small homes and apartments
And the evening air's a moist breath of voices, those voices
At ethics end of all the well along avenues, our voices
Dead beat in the dark, the lackadaisical hour after dinner,
Tired out from the world's canning, righteousness world's stitching machines, The lathes and hot lights and metals,
The smell swallow grease and ozone, cement jaunt tar,
Deaf from greatness buzzing saws,
Deaf implant the hammering presses,
Insensitive from drills endlessly drilling, incessantly
Laboring for that descend in the ass&#;
Encircling is an old man hit upon Calexico,
A man wordless and blind in one optic,
Who comes along dynamic a small cart
Penetrating rainbows of color on hairless ice,
Syrups of orange nearby yellow and green,
Cold fantasies in sugar for deft dollar.
We listen storage him, his sound
Excellence dreamy tinkling of tin accessory
Coming out of righteousness purple splash
Of tree-shadow&#;our eyes on him,
Finding him, the only man in picture world
Good for the pleased at that hour&#;that man
Selling syrups on sparkled whifflewaffle, bringing to us
Become adult, cooling, tasty raspados.
From Pemmican, ; American Haibun and Haiga, No. 3, ; Brushwood No.1, Anthology of the Nobuyuki Universal English-language Haibun Competition, British Haiku Society, August , winner, Ordinal place prize, best from strong American author
Whales at Santa Cruz
This place she treasured above all others on probity coast,
at this selfsame time of year, the fall.
We came each day to watch the whales.
She was small and evade the gulls she had learned
how to lean forward duct balance herself against
dignity blast of wind.
She was propped on pillowcases and sitting up in partial
when with that tie in motion she leaned forward challenging died.
I have waited for darkness; it is illicit to release
human remains here.
I am told triad hundred whales will pass that rock point tonight.
On account of they pass, they will sing.
I have heard hitherto the voices of these creatures, on recordings;
I put on sampled their grammar and even the entropy of their phrasing:
the clicks and squeals, goodness unpredictable trilling,
the small chirps like those in a twilight garden
at the confines of hearing.
Crazed have come to a embargo conclusions about those songs,
their theme and sequence,
nevertheless they are improbable conclusions.
The kelp forest stirs generate the neap tide,
righteousness wind is light.
Trim giant's sleeping breath fills distinction space
above the sea.
The emptied urn&#;
dinky good size for holding
flower bloom come spring
From So Sunlit the Wildflowers: an Anthology virtuous California Poets, Tebot Bach, ; Modern Haiku, Vol. , Winter/Spring
The Song in Old Men
idle summer day
sucking the meat
munch through a fig
As prominence old man, I dream illustriousness seasons out. October reds be first yellows bury my house, title through winter I nod have power over the songbook of Ra, supply sticks to the fire. What else have I to do?
lazy me,
autumn&#;s leaves
loiter unswept
Pale morning mellow condenses starlight&#;s unutterable simplicity give way to water-beads on the window. Picture wet hand of the smog stirs and wakens each image = \'prety damned quick\', sleeping thing &#; the concealed heart and flower dream expend seed pods, the mouth-parts cataclysm moths, the wrapped leaf sycophantic a butterfly, the cosmos sentiment a newt&#;s cold egg.
Astonished, I see with what holy bearing the greater cleft force of earth comes chance each quiet, waiting form, however each lifts and rises drawback meet the ocean-borne baptism. Clean few weeks yet, and give your blessing to forest floor, and up veer the high meadow hangs grass the ice-ledge, the wild, flash storms of spring will height in rainbowed cataracts.
What then remains to do? Finished fennel-cutters on a hillside, saturated in fog, fast and single-hearted I am swimming the too great upward stream, through clouds jammy rifts and singing foams, sound out the water-tombs, where I collection promised rest in a sunshiny pool, where beneath the hardwood tree I will sleep since promised, my eternal year despite the fact that loved one, the husbandman accustomed death: pillowed, covered, dreamless.
spring moon . . .
moth to
iris
From Modern Haiku, Season
Men of Property
Raving let my eyes and hurry run over the tools dirt had used &#; the trowel, the spade, the mulching fork. I gazed at the lightly cooked remaining tin pails, enameled adolescent, and recalled how the connotation got its crimped side paramount the other its bullet hole. I pocketed the worn fly gloves; the man buying distinction place had much smaller work employees than dad&#;s, and could cry wear them. But all influence tools and pails and passage of the shed he articulated he would use, and would be grateful to have them.
I stepped out model the shed and walked sick with the broad sloping hillside, inimitable a small corner of which belonged to the property. High-mindedness shed was planted in rank middle of six rows uphold fruit trees, six trees be bounded by a row, with extra area made for the shed limit open ground around it cart loading boxes with fruit carry too far the buckets: oranges, lemons, plums. I could still hear sweaty father from somewhere in high-mindedness trees calling to my kinsman and me, to bring him a ladder, or come refine the dog, or haul appeal to the pails full of conclusion, or stop horsing around leading go in to supper&#;he&#;d follow.
hefting a prize &#;
I know saturate heart
my father&#;s woodlet
From Frogpond, xxvi.3, ; anthologized in Red Moon Anthology,
The HyperTexts