POETS PLACE
NOVEMBER 2021
Holidaze Poetry
I feel like my life is playing out like a jazz composition going round and round sometimes with strong rhythms, with a lustful soul fueled heart
and improvisational strings tugging and pulling on the once solid notes harking and cajoling the structure of my life‘s music.
Luckily the cacophony of surrounding sounds of human kindness permeates, often cracking my head space and drowning out the incessant drone of head chatter
mind matter
laughter of the serious kind.
What resonates most though is the unintentional witness of life’s constant jokes at my expense
the hardy haha of bodily decline mental exhaustion the tick tock of time masticating in my mouth unable to spit out words of wisdom once rolling off my tongue with ease and intellect.
Mind constantly wandering off towards the sea of abysmal dread seeking refuge on the floundering ship that floats by with no more space for the elderly the aged the almost there but not yet ready to drown.
What eludes is a sticky mess of ugliness the harsh realities that time is definitely of the essence an out of control out of body handiwork of chance.
By Linda Kaye (ya, it’s me)
This month hosts poets who continue to shine in our hearts, tickle our imaginations and open our souls to their thoughts and feelings.
NOT A BOX
4/3/21
8:05 a.m.
By Mary Cheung
You tried to put me in this box.
But it just ain't me
It didn't fit, never been.
I'm not a shape that you can just see.
Fluid and evolving, never quite what I seem.
How can you decide from my packaging.
What, I shall be??
Often misunderstood, misinterpreted.
Until you actually take the time,
To delve a little bit deeper.
Peeling back each layer, revealing what you might find.
Oh it's worth it, I can assure you.
I'm the rare gem you will find.
The one in a million that's eluded you.
Only this time, I'll be yours and you are mine.
Acronyms don't fit me. I'm not a box, circle or square.
I'm just me,
Take the time to find out, you might care and like what you see.
So let yourself be swept up, in the whirlwind of my life.
Join me and discover, there's more to life than hard work, misery and strife.
We can color the pages together,
In between the lines.
Your hand clasped in mine,
Both partners in crime.
Mary Cheung- she is an innovative Artist and Costume Designer. Her works contain a strong sense of story as well as a highly sensuous style. She mostly works in paint or photography and sometimes making art that is wearable and innovative. She states “I am usually more of a Visual style Artists and have only recently been open to sharing literally art/poems, often paired with visual art of my creation, birthing a new form of spoken word art as another form of expression”.
Antepasados
By G. Billie Quijano
The elegance of memory
Causing pause in my dreams
Sublime energy of ritual and ceremony
My love floats on moonbeams
Their brilliance shines upon the cosmos
Grief eternally present
The weight of iridescent tears
In symphony with La Sirena's waves
Endless poetry in the hemisphere
La Monarcha swaying and swooning to the rhythm of the ancients
My soul no longer in fragments
Wisdom in their passage
Billowy smoke of a candle
Eternally grateful for courage
The sweet vibration
Corazon pulsation
Please come and drink with me
I welcome you with joyful glee
We will dance the dance of time
I know that the beyond, is where you will always be
G. Billie Quijano-Poeta, mix media artista, photographer. Hija de East Los. Mestiza. This poema is dedicated to my ancestors who were artists, brujas, farmers, soldiers, zoot suiters, revolutionaries, world travelers and curanderas. I am blessed with their love, wisdom and brilliance. They are in my heart and in my dreams.
Muse
by Ronald Carrillo
I am his muse
He used my form
He is very aware of me
Choosing his words carefully
He loves me poetically
I feed his ideas daily
We are an undisputable team
He supplies the word constructions
He molds me boldly like a sculptor
Chipping away here then there
Adding subtracting restating refining
Leaving space for my unique design
Until he feels closure and completion
I am faithful and tend to him well
I make it possible for him to work
He often clothes me in red, white and blue
Sometimes he delves too deeply in the blues
Of her liberty that he feels are without justice
He is often disappointed in his America
But knows she must grow and undergo her changes
Like a lost child he observes her
Like a wandering stranger he is perplexed in her direction forward
Like a wanton woman he wants to save her
Just as he himself is complex and ever evolving
He lives within her laws and borders
He writes about her multiplicities
Her greedy financial eccentricities
Her divisive cultural diversities having their long difficult history
And now things are once again
Reaching toward an ugly racial dichotomy
Still he holds his faith and admiration for her
I am his artistic sounding board
As he forms me usually with rhyme
He loves alliterations and a clever turn of phrase
He finds dark inspiration in his own origins
He was orphaned and needs to understand why
This upset the dream and created a crack in his foundation
His religion brought him solace for a time
Until he rebelled and became a disciple of rock and roll
That was when he discovered me as his artistic muse
Music and the Arts fused for him to seal that crack
His use of font or layout design is always kept simple
He lets it all be told in the sacred word
Like the flight of the majestic hummingbird
He spices his poems with nectar and floral aromas
To be enjoyed and savored flitting from word to word
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.
It Was the Best of Times By: Charles Dickens
...it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing...
If I Were A Woman
By:IE Carlo
If I were a woman, first would come my age, for how else would I be able to answer this question? My age is that that has caused me to to think of this, “If I Were A woman”?
If I were a woman, as a woman of age, I would now be enlighten to see life in its entirety, and as a man to see what it is to be a woman. If I were a woman, my gray hair, my wrinkles would be nothing more than a testament to that of being a woman, an enlighten woman, for as a women I would be made from the universe of thought and wisdom, intuitively, we are!
If I were a woman I would demand respect without demanding respect, for we are courageous, fearless, daring, and at times to a fault! Respect for a woman is different than that respect for a man. Real men would see this in us, for we bring that
universe of thought to them, we give them cause to think, real men that is! If I were a woman, I’d produce life in eternal. We women have earned this via struggles of knowing we are of this universe, we belong side by side with men, real men that is, and still want the caresses of a man who acknowledges our being as equals, to be treated with respect, yet as women, for we are not men! If I were a woman: because our feelings run deep, some with tears, some with anger, but mostly patients of our understanding, of that of our counter parts! Yes, our counter parts who mostly act out of deep fear of our understanding. Some think of winning and losing, if I were a woman you’d win when you allow yourself to hang with us, as we do when we hang with you!
If I were a woman: I’d look for that courteous in a man, for your courtness gives us pause to reflect of our love for you, your treatment of our person, making us equal, If I were a woman laughter would be the common denominator, even when troubles arise. If I were a woman I’d love because we love with compassion, and treatment with care. If I were a woman: I’d look to depend on myself, yet if with a man, I’d seek his advice in things, there is also much to gain from a man who understands the processes of living in a so called, man’s world. He would be my equal, yet my lover as well...in this my love for man would be unconditional giving my all and still retaining my individuality, for that is what would give my relationship meaning and confidence of continuance.
If I were a woman: I’d seek happiness above all else, my search would be long, and yet, and because I am a woman, that search would not be that long! As they say; I have prerogatives, if I were a woman I’d laugh at this!
If I were a woman...
Ismael (East) Carlo, poet, actor begins on the streets of East Harlem, el barrio whose monica of “East” happened due to others not being able to pronounce the name, Is-Ma-El…
East, considers himself more a storyteller than a poet, although at times he gets lucky and poetry emerges from his stories...
For more about East, visit IMDB. Paz en Vida
Find our Way
By Carrie Gordon
I still believe, tell me will you still believe?
And if we still believe...can we find our way?
Ethos in the air,
with rights and wrongs to spare,
divided in our union,
where do we begin?
Well, if I still believe, tell me will you still believe?
And if we still believe...can we find our way?
Like a deer in the highlights
Frozen still with fear,
The winds of change will lift us up,
the rising time is near.
Well, if I still believe, tell me will you still believe?
and if we still believe, we can find our way...we can find our way.
Carrie Gordon usually works in mixed media with pastels, acrylic and digital art. Her work has been shown at various locations in and around Southern California in both solo and group shows including: LA Live Arts , Eagle Rock Center for the Arts, Carter Sexton Gallery, Sawhorse Gallery, Cypress Art Tunnelwalk, Portfolio Gallery, Zweet cafe, Ten Feet: Art meets the River walk, Withlove LA, the Blue Line Arts Museum in Sacramento, Eden Gallery in Loudonville, New York and Middle Ridge Gallery in Idyllwild
Damaged Boys Jaded Days
By Jeff Chayette
31 March 2021
down the hill at east end of the junction
the festival headliner dropped the mic
chuck E”s in love and signs all over town shouted “no glove no love” the sites and sounds of the neighborhood; too cool for school
this is the stuff they don’t teach fools
the forbidden fruits the spike heeled boots dog collared boys police batons
lithium freaks wandering loose
the little boy spied with his glass wandered loose and stole the juice
madness alley crazy aunt sally
stopped her meds and stripped the beds
hollywood stand-in uncle tim places bets that don’t come in
the half way house upstairs was full of creeps on a losing streak handsome Vinnie lifting weights
pulling straights calling cops taking shots
dutiful Doug sweeping secrets under the rug
raging ruby hated men the meds left her feeling dead
her partner Judy was a bore the group of four never locked the door
auntie’s nephew Justin had his telescope climbed the tree played private eye
watched the scenes that scarred his soul
the porno shoot gay bondage games
filled him with shame; he wet the bed he could not stop
what did he see that made him pee
he searched the trash and saw the proofs men in chains never drew the shade
picture windows filled with light
bad brad braverman chased the boy come hear don’t fear
he ran back home and could not speak snuck out at night and stared in fright
at flood lights from the second floor risky sex that lead to death
he searched the trash and saw the proofs
he searched the trash and saw the proofs
he searched the trash and saw the proofs
Jeff Chayette- Poet
Thanks for joining us! We will continue to host writers and poets of all genres.
With great hope for a loving and accepting future!
Love,
Linda Kaye
Please submit your written work to:lindakayepoetry@icloud.com and include a short bio.
Linda Kaye writes poetry, curates poetry, produces spoken word and art events and produces a poetry column POETS PLACE for the online publication LAARTNEWS throughout the Los Angeles area.
Linda’s poetry events have included several summer poetry salons, and shows at 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 and Zweet Café in Eagle Rock. 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 most recent project a rap music video in collaboration with Mary Cheung, “ERACE-ISM” can also be seen on youtube. https://youtu.be/NfrbveNUBgg
Linda Kaye is a native Angelino 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 was working for the last seven years 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