POETS PLACE
SEPTEMBER EDITION 2025
Welcome to POETS PLACE!!! A sanctuary place to share your words, your poetry, your prose, your art. Today our freedoms are in jeopardy. The state of affairs is unclear, and my thoughts are clearly in a state of flux and fury. I’m trying hard to stay calm. Attempting some daily deep breathing and masking my terror with writing poetry definitely helps in the short term, but my hatred and anxiety of what’s happening to the USA continues to bubble up in my throat. My heart flutters, and my stomach spasms. My inner voice screaming HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPENING!!!!
Battle hymn of our fascist republic
By Linda Kaye
Mine eyes have seen the horror of the coming of the fascist regime.
They are fucking up Our country laying ground for a radical scheme
make note take heed, cause the troops have bled their greed
let the hero, born of women crush the serpent with her heel.
Once the fascists win their power history will forever change
our loss will devastate the world killing hope for centuries or more
we must use our pussy power to stop the fascist regime.
We must cut off funding to any Republican state.
We must stop any compliance with government requests.
Say no to federal taxes!
Say no to curriculum mandates!
Say no to deportation!
Say yes to secession!
Say yes to sanctions!
No more excuses
PUSSY POWER will stop the fascist regime.
Stained Glass
By R.G. Carrillo
Good role models
Came later in my life
I could now see
Normal reality
I worked toward
That vision
I did not come from that
My pieces were broken
I would reconstruct myself
Building a new
Stained glass image
I lost my bearings
My origins were suspect
Like driving blindfolded
My parents a Bonnie and Clyde
My mother was a tumbleweed
So many mouths to feed
He was no provider
Certainly no kind of father
His thinking all in knots
Money and women
In his thoughts
Just a blot on my being
A dirty spot I had to clean
My adoption
Was a secure foundation
But a dormant
Cancer remained
Hidden in my innocence
That eventually
Would spread
To my brain
Like a hired assassin
That would interfere
With my development
My fractured life
Broken stained glass
The orphaned pieces
To be assembledCatholic structure
Gave me faith
In an uncertain future
When I was very young
Would I find salvation
After the Dominican nuns
Abandoned me
Would Christ allow me
Into his kingdom
Or would the abomination
Of my alter boy image
Create more broken glass
Shatter my connection
To God
My development
Would be infected
Manifest itself
In actual disease
Cause chaos
My heart would bleed
My life compass
Could not find true north
The source of my malady
Would either kill me
Or I would have to battle
The dragon
Cut off its evil heads
Take charge
Of my life path
Clearing my mind
Stepping stones
To sobriety
Taking responsibility
For a late in life maturity
Raising my consciousness
Managing my life stress
Breathing in my passion
Abandoning negative habits
Polishing the glass
Learning forgivenessReigning in my judgements
Surrendering to a serene
New blueprint
Piece by piece
I would reassemble
My being
Find a new happiness
Living with my cat Ziggy
Life on the rock
More than gold
Finding my truth
Clearing the clutter
Of my youth
Those lost years
Of rebellion
Loathing my reflection
I rose from the ashes
The ugly duckling
Now a swan
My stained glass reflection
Cleaned sparkling
My spirit renewed
All my hues reflecting
The struggles
I have gone through
Prisms of color
Capturing the light
Then releasing
The shadows of my past
Shining through the glass
A new created self
Ronald G. Carrillo is a native Lincoln Hts Angelino, living in Eagle Rock and a retired LAUSD educator and influencer. He writes of his passion and rebirth into the golden age of living. He has been writing since high school and was initially influenced from the songwriters, Keith Reid, Joni Mitchell, Laura Nyro, Neil Young.
"The Hopeful Poet”
By Lida Parent Harris
The labor of this dove
is among a gun battle.
A western movie in our Society, without fear of song and truth.
She signs her wings to flutter in.
This is the poet of a far reaching limb.
To the quiet which allows ears to linger among the streams.
Turn anger to the love it so needs.
A poet that doesn't see a boundary it mustn't cross,
but a penetrating sound of stone and rock.
All the while, a chin held high to the eastern sky,
to remind us all of that which is beautiful.
A love no one else can fulfill.
Time to stand still
for us to listen to the rain above the storm.
To heal the earth in its rotten core.
Give her the stand to fight all the wrong and
make it right.
For our humanity depends on her fearless passage and flight.
7/10/25. 8:40 a.m.
Lida began her writing career in 2001 when she began attending Open-mic events in the San Fernando Valley. She met wonderful friends in a coffeehouse, and soon her life and world opened.
Lida attended Community Literature Initiative instructed by Hiram Sims. It was a writing course at USC which gave her new roots.
Her first book of poetry was published in 2015, by World Stage Press. She enjoyed performing in new venues, and creating her own shows called Lyrical Flames, in 2014.
Since then, Lida has performed her poetry in Las Vegas, Chicago, Santa Monica, Long Beach, North Holland, ArtShare LA, Leimert Park, Grand Park, and The Los Angeles Times Book Festival.
Lida is currently a mentor and dedicates her time to teach poetry for adults \for The Los Angeles County Department of Mental Health. She is also taking Drumming and writes song lyrics for new realms of creativity.
Kindred
By Jackie Chou
If you shall look into my eyes,
you won't find a spark
that is missing in yourself.
You'll see no astuteness,
or selflessness,
that you yourself are lacking.
You won't spread your wings
and show me feathers
that I do not have.
Nor will you sing a song
with melodies
that I don't already know.
We share a common blackness,
bereft of iridescence
to light up the dark.
Birds of the same kind,
no matter how far we part,
we will end up side by side.
Jackie Chou (she/her) is a writer from Southern California who has two collections of poetry, The Sorceress and Finding My Heart in Love and Loss, published by cyberwit. Her poem "Formosa" was a finalist in the Stephen A DiBiase Poetry Prize. She also has poems published in Synchronized Chaos, The Ekphrastic Review, Panoply Zine, Alien Buddha Zine, and Spillwords.
Clouds
By Mick Victor
If clouds looked like ships and the sky was the sea
then I'd be a captain That's what I'd be.
If clouds were like crackers and the sky was like goop
then I'd be a chef and I'd make you some soup.
If clouds were like flowers with petals and stems
then maybe when it rained they would grow again.
If clouds looked like players in a symphony
then I'd be a conductor "1, 2, 3..."
If clouds were like buttons on a fabric of blue
I'd make a sweater just for you.
But if clouds were like bugs buzzing all around
then I'd cover my ears because I hate that sound.
If clouds were like dancers all in a row
then I'd take your hand and around we we'd go.
But if clouds looked like keys that opened a door
the sky might be waiting for us to see more.
Ships and crackers and buttons and keys
Bugs and flowers and a symphony...
Clouds can be anything you can see...
Clouds can be anything you want them to be.
Mick Victor's work reflects a spirited freedom and success in a variety of the creative arts. With college degrees in classical music performance as well as theatre, he continued on to write and produce film and commercial music in Los Angeles, CA. That work also led him eventually to art and visual design, where he now is working with both private and commercial clients in California, New York and London. His personal love of poetry and writing came from a simple elective college class however and has remained a constant in his life. "Clouds" was written for his daughters Amanda and Isabelle.
tender ghost
the muse who lives in my branches and bloom
by ZOE
AUG 10, 2025
hi tender ghost
i thought i saw you the other day
i was walking
towards the beach
the sidewalks are so long here
nothing like the desert
i saw your energy
waiting at the corner for me
it made me feel alive
green
fresh
new
it lasted three blocks
my mind
stimulated
growing branches inside me
reaching
towards you
your energy
like fresh wind in my lungs
exactly what my soul needed
thank you
you’ve been sunlight
adding warmth and light
to the garden of my mind
my grandmother’s memorial
i didn’t get an invite
no one reached out
that hurts me most
an unnecessary grief
the ache
of living dead people
so i escape into music
headphones on
join me
drive
by the cars
creativity
showing up for me
a scene unfolds in my mind
it’s the 80’s
a firebird
windows down
the glass tops off
i definitely have feathered hair
the collar on my polo
way, way up
a highway
night drive
streetlights reflecting off the hood
this song
is soothing me
thank you
for driving me home
Zoe, a 49-year-old proud Indigenous Mexican and Ventureño Chumash artist based in California, expresses herself through painting, photography, digital art, mixed media, and writing. A certified Life and Recovery Coach, Zoe’s journey toward sobriety began in 2015, guided by therapy, mindfulness, and ancestral practices. Creativity became her sanctuary, a space of healing and inspiration that replaced self-medicating with resilience and vision.
After a 20-year marriage and years devoted to raising a family, Zoe now nurtures her artistic and literary voice as her children have grown, using creativity as an anchor for self-expression and the healing of familial wounds. Having overcome a restrictive upbringing, she embraces self-discovery and restoration, weaving her lived experiences into both her artwork and her writing.
Writing has always been at the core of Zoe’s being, rooted in imagination and emotional creativity. In 2025, she launched her own Substack to give her words a home a platform for vulnerability, storytelling, and connection expanding her artistry beyond the visual into the written realm.
Zoe transforms shadows into resilience through every medium she touches. Their work whether on canvas or on the page embodies empowerment, authenticity, and the profound healing power of creativity, not only as personal expression but also as a guiding light for others on their own journeys of recovery and renewal.
why embrace this nightmare?
by linda m. crate
nature provides
everything,
her beautiful hand
crafting trees;
waters,
rocks, geodes,
crystals, animals:
wild and domesticated,
landscapes, sunsets,
sunrises, moonlit paths,
butterflies, lady bugs,
crows, red foxes,
bees—
rivers don't drink their
own water,
and fruit trees don't eat
their own fruit;
each of us is connected
to one another,
meant to lean on one
another and help each
other in this journey called life;
but some people only
want to see the world burn,
to control others
and harm them—
i am against war, greed, genocide, and hatred;
we could have such
beautiful dreams
together and live in a lush
green earth—
why embrace this nightmare?
Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer whose poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has fifteen published chapbooks the latest being: not your piñata (Alien Buddha Publishing, June 2025).
Blooming From the Ashes, 2025
By A. Laura Brody
Reused textiles, embroidery floss, thread. 21.5" X 19.5"
This piece serves as a reminder of my old back patio in Altadena where I moved right as the Station Fire was raining ashes down upon the back yard and hills of Angeles Crest Forest. The central medallion began during pandemic lockdown, as friends gathered on Zoom to learn embroidery techniques, and was finished around the time of the Bobcat fires. The remainder was finished after the Eaton fires took out much of the Altadena I knew and loved. I am reminded by making this art of the sanctuary of nature, and of the wildflowers and leaves that bloomed forth from the ashes.
Laura Brody sculpts for the human body and its vehicles. She is the founder of Opulent Mobility, a series of exhibits that re-imagine disability as opulent and powerful, and the curator of Enter the Goddesses. She is also the host of Genius Teatime, a series of talks that explore fascinating folks from all walks of life.
Brody began her professional career as a costume designer and maker, working in film, television, opera, dance, and cosplay. She changed course many times but kept returning to art making, community learning, and social justice. Her artwork has been shown at ACE/121 Gallery, Art Share LA, Brea Gallery, California State University Northridge, the Charles River Museum of Industry, the Dora Stern Gallery, Ikouii Creative, the Los Angeles Makery, Westbeth Center For the Arts, and The World of Wearable Art. Opulent Mobility has shown at the Mike Curb Gallery at CSUN, Thymele Arts, Arts Unbound, AVC Gallery, the Los Angeles Makery, USC's Hoyt Gallery, and Brand Library & Art Center.
Artwork- G. Billie Quijano
Presently our first amendment rights are being assaulted by the current administration. Rampant censorship resulting in the cancellation of media, public programming, and the banning of books. I am a participant of a collective response to exercise our rights to addressing these issues and challenges through art and activism.
My piece, is a photomontage titled "Palabra Guerreras", warriors protecting our words, organizing to stop the erasure of our lives, our experiences, our history, our memories, our creativity. I love telling stories through this art form because the symbolism and nuances are endless. Juxtaposition of images to challenge, ignite, expose. The language of photomontage through a Mujerista's Gaze. This piece honors Sandra Cisneros and her contribution to the literary world. The House on Mango Street, Presente.
G. Billie Quijano-Mestiza, Hija de East Los, Natural Creative, Poeta, Photographer, Assemblage Artista, Bruja, Instigator of Beauty, Provocateur, Renaissance Mujer, Veganista.
Self-reflection
By Andrea Villafañe
I am the crack on a wall
I am the warmth of a shawl
I am the scrape on my car
I am the sparkle of a star
I am the scar on my chest
I am the intention to do my best
I am the sliver of a grain
I am the teardrop and the rain
Andrea Villafañe uses poetry as a creative outlet for her thoughts and feelings.
snake eyes
By Daniel Schack
1. being too cynical, no matter how intellectual, is still ignorance, of a very severe nature. 2. perhaps if people were more giving than I would be less taking.
daniel j. schack, born in 1964 is an online artist/poet. see more on facebook, and/or search poems of daniel schack. studied at s.u.n.y.buffalo and s.u.n.y. purchase-1982-1985, after graduating high school.
Garland Miles Jackson Portrait
Anna Broome is a Los Angeles poet who has published in various anthologies and journals including Acts of Light, LA Art News and Spectrum 17. Broome performs for local troupes including Public Works Improvisational Theatre’s Storyphile at venues including Beyond Baroque and Art Share LA. She produces and hosts the Anna Broome Room, a monthly, free-to-the-public live-performance art show for the last ten years at Art Share LA. Broome studied poetry at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington with Pulitzer Prize nominee Michael White. “Women Napping with Animals”, her collaborative project with Ted Meyer, was published in 2014. Her first collection of poetry, “Orthodox Bats”, was published in 2019. Her second collection “Sex Ed: A Prerequisite at Columbine” was published in 2022. Her new collection “An Irregular Bone” is currently under consideration for the Wilder Prize.
POWER TO THE PEOPLE 3
By Keith Kurlander
This third version of the DIS★OBAY artwork continues the evolution of a powerful visual protest piece, blending pop-art intensity with radical messaging. The image now features even stronger red, yellow, and black contrasts, enhancing the urgency and aggression of the visual language. The background's halftone pattern has been shifted again, giving the image more tension and energy. The message, featuring "FASCIST EPIDEMIC" and the corrupted U.S. flag with a swastika motif, remains at the center — a direct visual assault on authoritarianism, nationalism, and systems of control. The rainbow-starred DIS★OBAY branding on the right reinforces the rebellious tone.
Keith Kurlander “I've always been a creative soul, I make art, music, music videos, TV shows, films and mayhem. If you want to learn all about my fascinating life here's a good place to start.”
KEITH KURLANDER, THE E. TRUE HOLLYWOOD STORY
https://youtu.be/p3er5ptzZTA
LINK TO MUSIC https://www.idiot-savant.net/
More Art at: https://www.artpal.com/disobay & Music at https://www.idiot-savant.net/
A PALM TREE GREW IN “El BARRIO” RAISED EN “EL BRONX
By: IE Carlo
A palm tree born in “EL BARRIO” raised en “EL BRONX” with sway.
Gentility giving birth with rhythmic swing to this day.
Sounds so sweet from fingers like Adonis Azul butterflies.
Touching petals of flowers so sweet
Down to its roots to street sounds in the Bronx
Vocal soul sounds real sounds tragic sounds.
Respectful sounds pure sounds of beats that resonate with sounds of truth
With every note and beat
The heart of your being giving awareness of those sounds to repeat.
Palmieri his name Eddie to us our palm tree charismatic by nature
Artistic through nature our tree our palm tree
Tradition his soul cries inspiring sounds different than any other
Idolized for his mesmerizing fingers of skill on those keys so black with white
As a hue to view
A Palm tree born en ‘EL BARRIO” raised en “EL BRONX”
.
Eddie Palmieri, our prince of those streets known for its beat.
Ismael (East) Carlo As of this writing I am 83 years of age. My stage name, Ismael “East” Carlo came about due to those unable to pronounce it correctly, which is understandable. If you have ever read “Moby Dick?”, the opening line of the book is: “Call me Ishmael”, close enough. The story of my beginning as an actor, came about due to a depressing moment. No thoughts of suicide, but what are you going to do with your life? At 30 years old a decision had to be made. C M Y CM One day a friend came to visit and he said, “Get dress we're going to see a play on Broadway”. Ironically the title of the play? “No Place To Be Somebody”. Fitting since I was at a crossroads in life. As we left the theater I was so inspired I had a premonition and I told my friend, I'm going to become an actor! and he replied “Go For It!”. Not too much longer I moved to Miami, Florida. I remember meeting a woman who said I should consider modeling. Me? A model? I took the advice and signed up at the Glen Jones Modeling agency since I was particular about mens fashion! MY CY CMY K While at the agency I met a man that had 3 missing fingers and a pot belly. I asked, “Are you a model?”, He replied, “No I’m an actor looking for work”. The irony of the business. While in Miami I began taking acting classes for five dollars a class. I immediately landed acting roles and landed my first acting gig. I was cast in “Damon Runyon's”, Guys and Dolls, playing the part of Big Julie. Followed by “Carib”, starring, Carl Franklin and Stacy Keach. Over the years I honde in on my craft for acting and I decided to leave for Hollywood. Luck must have been with me. As an extra I had the pleasure of working with Sidney Pointier and I began landing roles in soap operas, TV, and features films. Off Broadway and theater music was my other passion. While trying to make a living between gigs I met a man by the name of Bobby Matos. Bobby Matos was a talented musician who encouraged me to begin writing and performing poetry. It wasn’t long after we started recording and producing music. As a result of this connection we created our music label, “Cafe Con Bagels”. Together we had a vision of promoting music and sought out other talented musicians to collaborate with. Our artistic expression was starting to bloom! I can say of myself that show business has been a wonderful experience. An awakening of senses and gratitude of being in a field with exceptional creative talent. I can go through a litany with whom I've worked with, but no need it's promoted on IMDB.
THE CRY FOR PEACE
by Monica Marks
The Cry for Peace is loud.
Screaming, even.
The Cry is words of protest written in thick black and red on cardboard signs.
The Cry is demonstration.
Marches, rallies in the streets, scared, angry faces who shout at injustice and purchased
politicians.
The Cry is amassing memorial candles burning hot after another deadly shooting.
The Cry is wails of grief rising into the air, breaking through the smoke of weapons and rhetoric,
shrieking bombs speeding toward indiscriminate targets.
The Cry is shouting truth, history, shared generation to generation, being erased in
books, in museums, in institutions of learning.
The history of slavery, slaughter, war, internment camps, concentrations camps, immigration camps.
The Cry for peace is heard around dinner tables, conference tables, interrogation tables.
Written in tears, blood, spray paint.
Felt as a growing vibration.
Born in the communities of the underserved, underfed, undereducated, under-seen and under-
heard who are not understood by the power-wielding privileged.
The Cry for peace bellows from the depths of the soul, weeping for what has been lost, fearing
for what is yet to be sacrificed.
It begs for attention, eyes painfully open to the default of cruelty, the ease of othering,
the swift rising tide of scapegoating, condemning, incarcerating, partial truths and complete
lies designed to demagnetize the poles of a moral compass.
It cries out against the construction of false gods, the destruction of civility.
It cries out against the building of walls, the tearing down of truth.
It cries out against the currency of hate, the defunding of compassion.
And me? My Cry?
My voice is hoarse, tired, weary of rebellion.
No match against the overblown cry for war on all that I hold dear.
I find myself acquiescing to the silence they demand, retreating to the safety of distraction, deflection.
My Cry, more often, unspoken.
A world I thought I knew is unfamiliar, terrifying.
It. Is. Too. Much.
Alone, it is too much.
The Cry for Peace is a collective.
It is community.
The Cry is both a single person, a singularity of many voices coming together.
I cry for peace in art, in words, in song.
We cry for peace in art, in words, in song.
These cannot be silent tears.
These cannot be solitary tears.
The Cry for Peace must be loud.
Screaming, even.
Monica Marks is a mixed-media artist exploring themes of invisible disabilities, social stigma, and environmental crisis through found objects, painting, and collage. Drawing on a background in art therapy, she creates work that makes the unseen visible. Monica exhibits widely and is committed to social engagement through art.
No Profanity
By Dave Lovejoy
I think that I shall never see
my old friend Manny Manatee.
It used to be, when I went to the sea,
I’d look out on the water and there he’d be.
He’d say, "Long time no sea, my friend,"
and laugh, and wiggle his back end
(manatees are quite fond of jokes,
a fact not known by many folks).
I’d tell him that he looked quite well,
(although with manatees, it’s hard to tell)
I’d kneel by the water and chat with him,
and he’d just float, or bob, or swim.
Yet last time I went, he did not come.
I sat for hours, my feet went numb.
And as I rose, and turned to go,
I glimpsed old Manny, down below.
"Manny, I said, where have you been?"
He rose and gestured with his fin.
"Twice I've been hit by a catamaran;
I’m sorry friend, but I’m tired of man."
"How can you believe this is where you began?
And then sprouted legs, went up on dry land?"
I tried to convince him we’re not all like that,
but for people the ocean’s just for looking at.
People visit the ocean to drink and relax,
to slather on lotion, and lie on their backs.
With no sign of motion save a reach for their snacks,
they seldom consider their manatee facts.
They drive to the ocean in their minivans,
they lie on the beach, they work on their tans.
They darken their skin and whiten their teeth,
but they don’t give a thought to who lives underneath.
"Humanity," he said to me,
"is simply concerned with vanity."
"And that,
to a manatee,
is insanity."
And I agree
David Lovejoy is a Los Angeles artist known locally for his work in The Last Bookstore and Meteora. He is also cofounder of the Los Angeles Makery, an art center in Little Tokyo.
Blue Sapphire Rose
by Snow Mack 2025
The Summer of 1968...
That was the summer I left my doll buried up to her neck in sand at Rohobeth Beach, Delaware.
I endlessly flitted between fantasizing and fretting about her possible demise on the long drive back to Alexandria, Virginia.
Perhaps her destiny lay ahead in the tides, to ride down to the Panama Canal, following a giant ship through the canal from the Atlantic to the Pacific to wash ashore years later to star in her own survival documentary, "The Miraculous Story of ______, A Perilous Watery Journey From Coast to Coast".
I wish I could remember her name, name for a day, name for an afternoon, name of the hour, a minute, moment, wave crash, sun drenched, sand castled moment.
Gidget? Barbie? Or something made up, Blue Sapphire Rose?
Did I forget her on purpose in order to experience loss?
The summer ended, and school began, but not until we packed up everything in my room, except Gidget Barbie Blue Sapphire Rose, and moved what seemed like a thousand miles away to New Canaan, Connecticut.
Now I live 2 miles from the Pacific Ocean in Santa Monica, California. I haven't thought of that doll for years. Lately, though, I find myself relating to her predicament. Should I dig myself out from the sand that covers me up to my neck? Or allow the tides to whisk me this way and that till I star in my own deeply personal rescue story, one filled with sea beasts and mermaids?
Blue Sapphire Rose it is.
Snow Mack she/her is a contemporary visual artist known for her vibrant, dream-inspired paintings and symbolic assemblage frames. Her work blends pop culture, mythology, and surreal imagery to explore the subconscious, resulting in visually rich narratives that are both personal and archetypal. Snow Mack lives and works in Los Angeles, where she continues to develop a body of work that merges vivid imagination, cultural commentary, and a deep symbolic vision.
The New Day
By Peter Yates
I am going to solve the world’s problems.
I’m going to fix this whole situation.
The crowd below comment among themselves.
(Now here’s an idea
we’re eager to hear!)
Genie’s voice grows stronger.
It will be a brand-new day!
(Such a sensible sentence
for someone to say!)
We will finally see,
a new world which will be
much more suited for me
to live in!
Everybody will love me.
No more jerks will cut me off on the freeway.
(Everybody will
now do things my way
on the highway!)
There will be no more death,
no more worries,
and no more complaints.
There will be no more war,
no more sadness,
and no dissatisfaction.
No more rent.
No more unemployment.
No more work.
No more taxes.
No more crime.
We will have a good time!
No more hate.
No more boredom.
No more of This —
all because of me!
The crowd cheers and marches off to City Hall,
chanting as they go.
This here committee
is off to the city
to bring a petition
against the condition!
Genie waves and heads in the other direction,
on a mission of her own, to find Simon Rodia.
PETER YATES In venues ranging from Lincoln Center to the art clubs of Salzburg and the botanical gardens of Los Angeles, Peter Yates has produced over a thousand events as composer, guitarist, writer and multimedia artist.
His interest in things not done has led to a puppet opera about the Watts Towers, a DVD ghost-town opera, and a graphic-novel oratorio. His writing includes plays, librettos, satire, philosophy and instruction manuals on musical interpretation and prepared guitar.
APPEARANCES
By Kassi Crews
Things aren’t always, as they appear to be.
This life of the Buddha accomplishes serenity.
When at first we understand
A closer look may deal a different hand.
The complexities of life draw to simplicity.
The straight and narrow often curves
And bends.
With each new piece of information
The light shifts to the other end.
When we think we’ve got the answer
Keep your eyes open for more to see.
This life we live holds more than
We can imagine and will continue
For eternity.
See the mountain, hear the bird,
Speak of love and laughter.
Live your life being grateful for each
Second for that is what really matters.
Live for truth and justice, as they appear to be
And remember it’s our perception
That changes not reality.
©1989 Kassi Crews
Kassi Crews is an entertainment industry veteran and a consummate storyteller. She is a versatile & accomplished actor with a rich background in film, television, improvisation, stand-up comedy, and theatre. Crews became an industry leader in Hollywood post-production as the Vice President of Digital Jungle where she oversaw the day-to-day operations and served as producer on an endless list of film and television projects. Most recently, Crews lead multiple post-production teams at Fox and Walt Disney Television, overseeing the workflows of all television for FX Networks including "The Americans," “Fargo" and “Pose" as well as a DI Producer for Apple, Netflix, CBS, CW, Starz & Paramount. Crews has produced and directed a variety of critically acclaimed independent projects, “Broken Memories,” Heart of Recovery”, “God’s Ears” and “A Better Place” as well as live shows for the theater. She is a member of ATAS, NAB, NAPTE, PROMAX and SAG; holds a Master of Arts from CSU Fullerton and a Bachelor of Arts with Honors from UC Santa Cruz.
I DID ALRIGHT
By Mary Cheung
8-25-2025, 10:33 a.m.
I did alright, I did o.k.
On the days I beat myself up and question the job that I did…
of raising my kids, and the I shoulda, I coulda, and I woulda’s..
I pull out the box of photos to reveal the truth that can’t be hid..
The evidence of the moments staring me in front of my eyes.
I’m reminded of how we did in our lives' rollercoaster ride.
Make it plain to see, and it takes me into my past.
- Halloween costumes lovingly made to order for the kids.
- Birthday parties took days and days to prepare and conceive.
- All the sleepovers to soothe bruised hearts and souls.
- First days of school
- First days of losing their tooth
- First days of easter egg hunts
- Playing at the park
- Swimming in pools
- Vacationing just the 3 of us
More and more…the photos pour out the love and care I took to making sure you became loving, kind, and compassionate human beings, ready to take on the world
Sure, some days you doubt some of the decisions you made..
And you forget about your life's high points when you’re low and down.
Until you shuffle through the photos.
Captured are the joys, the laughter, and the silliness you made.
It’s all there to remind you, to not beat yourself up too bad.
Cuz you did it! You raised your kids the best that you could and with what you had.
So instead of kicking yourself on the butt, pat yourself on the back…
Cuz you did o.k.
Mary Cheung is a multi-disciplinary artist. She has been creating art since she was little. Youngest in a family of eight. She came to America at the age of 2 and grew up in San Francisco. Attended American school during the day and Chinese school at night.
Mary has an AA degree in Fashion Design and a Best Costume Design Award from the NAACP. She often creates costumes for her art narratives and creations.
She was the recipient of 3 grants in 2024 and the Denis Diderot and Emerging Artist award. She has art exhibited and published locally and Internationally.
Her real passion and drive come from being able to engage the community while bringing hope, healing, joy, and human connection. It is her goal to be able to continue to do this while making an impact on society’s values and thinking. “I hope that I can be a role model for others to find their own true voice in life through my art."
You’re just a bad trip
By Anna Mathai
She’s probably a catfish
They turned up the volume
Now we’re all going batshit
They’ll burn down the temples
Just to bury the hatchet
It’s like catholic guilt
And we’re all going to catch it
Add up what’s lost
Then subtract what is equal
She might give it up first
Then let’s all call her evil
Drag it out til the end
Then pretend that you’re feeble
It’s a discordant hymn
Stringing out for the people
Anna Mathai is an Indian-American multidisciplinary artist based in Los Angeles, California. She frequently uses Venetian plaster and other plasters in her work. Her abstract works reference both the natural world and our internal ‘landscapes’ of emotion, blurring both real and intangible. She often touches on concepts of femininity, rebellion, and otherness, with a touch of mysticality, in her figurative work. By pairing her writing with her visual art practice, Mathai creates an extra dimension in which viewers can experience her art and a loose construct to guide their own internal process of understanding. Mathai was born in the UK, but spent most of her childhood in the rural Deep South, which heavily influenced the concepts she explores in her art. Her work has been awarded, published, and exhibited globally. You can find her at www.byMathai.com or on Instagram @byMathai.
A salon for those in need
By Dean Okamura
She goes to the salon
and one thing she really likes
is to get her hair shampooed.
It clears off little things
on her mind. Then a gentle massage
on the temples, on the various
sinuses of the head,
relaxes the scalp and the soul within.
And when she leaves, it’s the same old world
that got her hair all dirty
before, but at least she feels renewed.
He goes to the salon
to get his toenails trimmed,
and perhaps there’s been some damage.
A little attention helps
a lot. He says, "Thank you,
it’s getting hard. I’m old
and can’t bend over like before.
I just can’t reach my toes
anymore." After they took care
of all issues, he walks
out the door, grateful for the help,
knowing it took someone else’s hands
to tend to what he couldn’t manage himself.
There’s one particular worker there
at the salon who has the ability
to talk to the clients. She remembers
all their children,
all their grandchildren,
all their birthdays,
and knows little things, important
things. It’s a safe conversation.
There are also times when someone
needs a little bit of encouragement
when life is tough, when things
don’t go their way, and of course,
when someone dies. They appreciate
the changes in their appearance
before they go to a special occasion,
or nowhere in particular.
People say I got it wrong.
Some say hair salons, beauty parlors, spas,
or whatever they call them. These places
don’t specialize in taking care
of people in the way that I described.
They are right. I wasn’t talking
about real salons like that, like those.
I was thinking of all places
where people are touched,
where the soul is seen,
and care is more
than routine.
But yeah …
I hope you get the idea.
Dean Okamura resides in Torrance. He experiments with writing since he retired from engineering.
STATEFARM
By Lillian Beaudoin
sometimes I look at my face in the mirror
and all I see are the bones
fingertips
press into cheeks chin eye socket
mapping out the hidden geography
of my own skull
when I got my wisdom teeth removed
the dental surgeon said
I have a jaw like Arnold Schwarzenegger
still not sure
if it's a compliment
flying home from Chicago
a man
gave up his aisle seat
because he thought I was pretty
so sure it was a good idea
until he asked
is that your boyfriend?
about the man behind me
and I said yea
strange
that he regretted the middle seat so suddenly
and me decidedly
not offering to switch
he
was so scared of flying his body angled away from the window
armrest pulled up and flattened into the edge of my seat
he
works in insurance
State Farm
deep in moral crisis
because of Florida
having just fired hundreds of employees
tripled or denied thousands of claims
do you want kids?
he asks me
I've never wanted kids I say
seems unlikely I'd suddenly start now
what about marriage?
people like to think something official and ritualized
like a wedding
will protect them from future harms
or
uncertainties
I've never really cared about marriage
don't you want to have love?
oh yes
and I do
every day
I'm in love with life
and anyway
never could imagine only being able to trust a feeling was real
if it exists with my name stamped on a slip of paper
that's smart very smart
if I could do things over
I love my kids beautiful boys 2 and 5
I'll show you pictures
I love my boys
if I could do things over
I don't think I would do it this way
I love them
but it's too much love
oppressive
living with all this love
suffocating
I try to do good
to live a good life
give my family more than I had
be a better father than mine ever was
my dad and my step-dad both died this year
but
I
I don't like the man I see when I look in the mirror
I hope
you like who you are
that's gotta be
the most important thing in life
and
something
about the shape of my bones
invites strangers to tell me their secrets
like newly-born calves
lost cold
wandering into open gates
sheltering in nearby pastures
the way
that we press flowers
I wish
I could record an impression of the points in my face
resonant structure
skin canopied
around filthy orchestra
an architecture of chewing and blinking
all hinges and flaps
obscene motion
bundled
at the zenith of our bodies
driving locomotion interpretation expression
it's a wonder
we
make any sense
at all
Lillian lives in Los Angeles. She used to live in New York, and before that, in Texas. She writes when she feels like it and collects the hair that falls out of her head in the shower. She has a job and a cat. She was a Robert Wood Johnson Foundation research fellow and is interested in climate advocacy, heat equity in urban environments, eco-grief, and creative process. She's been playing the same DnD campaign for 5 years. She has a substack if you're into that kind of thing: https://tragedyofthecomments.substack.com
3 Hide-ku
By Sonny Tristan
1
Mountains hide in clouds
Acting like they never end
Full of vanity
2
Shoved onward by winds
Clouds hide on the sea’s mirror
When they need to rest
3
Night brings their spelled dance
Shadow gives light his meaning
To find ways to hide
Sonny Tristan started writing poetry when the world shut down. He spent decades artist adjacent, works daily using words, and even with all the talk, thinks sunsets are underrated. His poetry is published in bathrooms nationwide.
Petals
By Matt Aung
Petals against the winds carrying me home
Memories of flowers blooming with every step
Idyllic lilies and brazen chrysanthemums
Tangled in a love affair; soul-bound budding seedlings
Ask for a rock, I would carve a mountain
Ask for flowers, I'd bring them from my garden
Ask for the moon, I'll take you to the stars
Like a petal against the wind
Currently blow me further and wider
Than I've ever known...
Matt Aung says, “I’ve been making art for as long as I can remember—ever since my hand-eye coordination caught up with my imagination. From doodling in the margins of school books to dreaming up fantastical worlds with friends, creativity has always been my compass.
I'm both self-taught and formally trained in a range of mediums, including painting, ceramics, photography, sculpture, and digital art. I love blending these disciplines to create work that’s meaningful, expressive, and made with love.
View my collection of works on my website including sculptures, paintings, digital art, and photography. www.skindeepcuts.com
"Beauty Everywhere”
By Michelle Smith
In the Descanso paths
that lead to a floral world
of show and tell I close my eyes
and feel the stillness
without speaking a word.
Peppermint colored petals
a streak of pink hued
decorate creamy white camellias
with red infused.
I can see for miles and miles.
Delightful daisies and daffodils
dance in florets in sunshiny yellow
with green stock stems.
Their family of loveliness connects
to me, saying, "I'm here for you.'
Pink Peonies color pops
on canvas, leaves surround and ensue.
Purple reign of the iris sees
with its black and white eyes.
Jeweled royal rich as
the February amethyst,
behold the splendor
buds peaking
the Garden is staring back at you.
Michelle Y. Smith is a Los Angeleno native and like Stretch Armstrong, an action figure with many action roles: My heart is mother to my autistic son Chris a.k.a my Creative, Happy, Righteous, Intriguing Social Soul. My patience is my CNA employment and advocacy for my the all disabilities, especially for the developmentally and elderly community. My drive is published poetry and prose in "Love Letters", "Acid Verse II", and "Just for the People" by the Los Angeles Poetry Society Press; "Remembering the Riots: An Anthology," ," Sounds of South Central" and various zines by DSTLArts. In addition, Four Feathers Press and with http://saturdayafternoonpoetry.blogspot.com and http://fourfeatherpress.blogspot.com., enter my name and a cornucopia of prose and poetry will be seen. My poem, "There is a Sunflower ", was published in June 2025 and nominated by the Four Feathers Press PDF/Print Publication Awards.
THANKS FOR JOINING US!!!!
Please submit your written work to: lindakayepoetry@icloud.com
and include a short bio
Linda Kaye writes poetry, curates poetry, produces films, spoken word and art events and produces a poetry column POETS PLACE for the online publication LAARTNEWS throughout the Los Angeles area. She recently exhibited her first piece of artwork! A photograph taken in Waikiki, was represented at the Los Angeles Makery gallery’s REFLECTION:RESILIENCE show curated by the Arroyo Arts Collective.
Linda’s poetry events have included several summer poetry salons, and shows at the Los Angeles Makery, the Align Gallery, 50/50 Gallery, Gold Haus Gallery, Ave 50 Gallery and Rock Rose Gallery in Highland Park, The Manifesto Café in Hermon, Pilates and Arts studio in Echo Park, and Native Boutique, Zweet Café in Eagle Rock, The Los Angeles Makery in Little Tokyo. And at the Neutra Institute Gallery and Museum in Silverlake. Her first short documentary film “BORDER POETS” was a socially and politically inspired event with poets and musicians filmed at the border wall near Tecate, Mexico on the Jacumba, Ca. side of the US. The film co-produced by MUD productions is available for viewing on her website and on youtube. https://youtu.be/5Te4-dlhxco
Her rap music video project in collaboration with Mary Cheung, “ERACE-ISM” can also be seen on youtube. https://youtu.be/NfrbveNUBgg This video was accepted into the Ontario Museum of History & Art show “We the People” Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. February 2- April 16, 2023. So honored!!
And… February 19, 2022, she debuted her staged poetry production of “20 Years Left” at the historic Ebell Club in Highland Park! Two sold out shows with 2 standing ovations!! Check out the links to reviews and the video!
https://thehollywoodtimes.today/20-years-left-new-show-performance-poetry-music/
20 Years Left youtube live stream 2/19/22
https://youtu.be/GT1D5k2EeKU
Linda Kaye is a native Angeleno who grew up in the San Fernando Valley. She claims to be both a first-generation Valley Girl, and The Original Hipster. Educated at Antioch University and Cal State Long Beach in psychology and social work. Linda, now retired from medical social work, was working for her last seven years of employment as a psychotherapist and licensed clinical supervisor for an out patient mental health clinic. She was a licensed medical social worker for 30+ years working on the front line of healthcare, a private consultant for Physicians Aid Association and for skilled nursing facilities throughout California and Arizona. She was also an adjunct assistant professor at the USC Suzanne Dworak-Peck School of Social Work. Oh yeah.
Twitter/Instagram: lindakayepoetry
http://voyagela.com/interview/daily-inspiration-meet-linda-kaye/https://
shoutoutla.com/meet-linda-kaye-poet-poetry-and-theatrical-producer-filmmaker/