POETS PLACE
MAY EDITION 2026
Whoa! Are we still dealing with this unbelievable shit show? How much worse will this country become under this criminal pedophile administration??? I know there are people out there fighting the good fight. I follow many of them on social media. I’m watching, listening, paying attention. I just can’t wrap my head around the amount of abuse spewing in our country! The massive affects it has on our citizens is beyond what the psyche can tolerate. Daily, hourly attacks on our souls. Our freedoms our Constitution. We have become nothing in the eyes of those criminals. They are getting off on their horrendous deeds of death and destruction. Sociopaths the lot of them. I want to hide under a rock till its over. I don’t have the courage or the wheelhouse right now to be that person who climbs on top of a bridge waving a black flag of doom. Or the gunman/woman who storms a White House event hoping to kill some of those despicable people the ones believing they are beyond reproach. There is no pardoning for them in this world of hate and cruelty they have created. Traitors!!! To me, it looks like, in referencing Guston’s painting Riding Around, 1969, that the KKK, for me I see or arsehole DJT and his cronies, is going nowhere, “the jalopy of his tires are flat” (Sebastian Zinn, on Phillip Guston, Artillery Mag Jan/Feb 2026. (Philip Guston pic featured).
This is a sad time for America. When will this end???? The writing is on the wall, in our hearts, in our magazines, TV news, and will forever be imprinted in history. Will it?
We writers here at POETS PLACE have a lot to say. Thanks to your continued support. We will continue to share our words of poetry and love. And hopefully, regain a faith in humanity.
A Glimpse of the Future
By Linda Kaye
There is a syphilitic dick energy in the all White House, releasing a thick infectious ooze of corruption from the bowels of indecently approved Nazi pigs, running a muck with dangerous hormones, causing catastrophic damage, cursing through the American artery, clogging the brains of the ill equipped
There will be a massive fire storm of fascism burning down the nations system of freedom
a volcano of deceit eroding layers of humanity all in one purge
the Internet is screaming with injustices pandering to those who know what’s really coming
the other 50% will be blindsided. The un woke will be doomed lol
We who do speak out and resist will have our mouths shackled and our hearts broken.
The American people will be robbed of all our rights.
Some of us will starve to death.
Some of us will be deported, but most of us will fight.
We must dismantle the throne, one coward at a time.
Resting Dick Face
By Ed Burgess
Sorry about the wait.
Sir.
How’s your day going?
Sir.
How can I help you?
Sir.
How’s your food tasting?
Sir.
Do you need anything else?
Sir.
Excuse me?
Sir.
Have a nice day.
Sir
I look up from my thoughts
About how my mother smelled
About how a moth fluttered past the window.
About how the sun reflects off the water in the fountain outside in the garden.
And then I have an intrusive thought about a triumphant performance in a community theatre production of Camelot
My thoughts turn to the dangling earrings of the grandmother checking out in the next line
The sputter and roar of a helicopter over head.
I say a silent Hail Mary and glance at the bill.
Would you like anything else?
Sir.
The question hanging in the air.
Un-answered.
The answer I will not give.
To the waiter
To the cashier
To the teacher
To the inspector
To the interviewer
To the policeman
To the lover
To the friend
To my own mother
I look back at them all.
Broken away from my thoughts about what is beautiful right now.
How perfect this moment was.
Before they assumed what my thoughts were.
Sorry about the wait
Sir.
Ed Burgess is an artist, poet and good guy. He has lived and worked in Los Angeles for over twenty years. Follow him on Instagram @pasteywhyte
The dainty darling
by Anna C Broome
2026
The dainty darling
devoured the dust,
and with a failing lust,
the dainty darling
mustn’t ever trust
what’s empowered
or on the cusp of cowardice
who is the lovely,
lonely lady? with
a handkerchief attached
to her mouth covering
up all her words,
as if each were a world
never traveled forever
undiscovered. is she
the her I wish to be
am I her with eyes that see
many have wondered
devoutly, though dishonestly
if she were a part of themselves,
and if so, were those parts
once departed, a whole
memory of a human being
free of cruelty, lacking
all the kindness that remains
in a dreamer's world,
flying fast away from insanity
leaving behind weddings
and family
or instead fleeing to the inside
Of a darkness of an alluring
consciousness. Was she
ever a her or a fur
for her or a blur
of her?
so darling in the bleak
femininity of morning
she’s deciding humanity
isn’t her infirmity
that’s a formality
Vast as cursed vanity
she isn’t any entity,
as are the rest of us
blessed empty as a soul‘s calamity
for eternity
at LAST she represents
a callous,
righteous
luminous
tumultuous person‘s worth
a from-birth-until-death deformity the I of we
Isn't and is her vulnerability
Or defined awkwardly as sanity.
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.
I SEE
By Mary Cheung
12-27-2025
12:54 a.m.
I see,
The shadow of the child,
Once carefree and wild
A grown adult who sits at the table with their partner's other half.
A tall, gawky man.
Another, a robust, plump pregnant mom.
Who has traded dolls and crayons for
Bigger responsibilities and dreams.
Now living the life that was mine a few decades ago.
I'm now the aunties and siblings of the group.
We are the ones doing the passing on of wisdom and treats.
The leader of functions, get-together and meets...
I see, and I am witness to a scene of boisterous dinners at restaurants.
Celebrating life… with our family, however mismatched and paired we might be.
The ups and downs that have tested us in time.
and the crime of stubbornness and pride,
that broke us as a family.
Now we are together as one...
I see how the years have changed us.
All of those years... the early ones,
That was training wheels for the ripe sweetness of what we have now.
I see it, and it was impossible to have know b4.
It could have only happened after the decades of lives lived and endured.
To arrive at this moment.
And one day you'll see too.
The moment will come.
The sum of your life.
The clarity and culmination of it.
Will you be happy? Or will you have regrets?
It took this moment in a noisy, hectic restaurant for me to see.
Everything that led up to my life of 61 days lived.
I am now where my mom was, and the torch has been passed to me.
Someday it'll be your turn to see.
You're the next generation, and you'll be replacing me.
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."
The Possibility of a Season
After the Storm by Jane Cantillon
(photo by Jane Cantillon)
“Possibilities are endless” says the sky with it’s own limits, resting quietly under baby blanket clouds
after the storm.
The possibility of seeing your smile again neatly creased in excitement and your large proboscis, the friendly two car garage of sniffing night blooming jasmine and fresh tortillas after the storm.
The possibility of laughing and singing together till we cry while hugging, holding hands, and sweating out loud. Reading faces again of bitterness and disappointment owned, or just the total awe of humanity. A face is a favorite map, especially after the storm.
The possibility of music, swooning to a live sound and the lips silently forming the words, humming notes as the music lifts us higher. Bodies pushed together, we’re dancing again
when the sun begins to tease blue patchwork upstaged by a cheery rainbow sitting above the hard labor of the ocean, flushing twenty four seven especially after the storm.
The possibility of my work being done here, children living happily ever as I slip into my feathered bed, resting aching bones and tired of my body and it’s organ recitals. I fly away wrapped into the baby blanket of clouds and rest after the storm.
The possibility that this ends a bit too soon but knowing that I always tried to be kindhearted like a grandmother and fearless like a tightrope walker now staring away from the pain and into the cozy abyss. Crying only for those I lose but with the possibility of seeing them in the next life after the storm.
Jane Cantillon is a singer/songwriter/director and Emmy nominated producer. She worked for two decades at TV shows and produced/directed an award winning documentary called “The Other Side: A Queer History’s Last Call” streaming on various platforms. Currently she runs art workshops at memory care facilities in LA.
Formerly named The Dick and Jane Family Orchestra with her late husband Richard Ross, Cantillon now fronts the original band called Dickless Jane and the New Confusions and a jazz band called The Hollywood Sympathy Notes. Next show is July 16th at Soap Plant/Wacko.
BAD BUNNY 5
By Keith Kurlander
This is a vibrant pop art style image featuring a child, Liam Conejo Ramos wearing a bunny ear hat against a bold magenta and black leopard print background. The image has a halftone/screen-printed effect with high contrast colors in cyan, magenta, and red-orange tones. Text elements reading "THE WORST OF THE WORST" are arranged vertically on the left side and scattered around the composition in a distressed, grunge typography style.
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/
Introspection Inside a Bus
By Jackie Chou
Whose heart is this
that puts itself in a crowd
to be squeezed, crushed
and doesn't seep bitterness
from its cracks
I once owned a thing like that
beating in my chest
when the world seemed new
and promising
but now it's all scratched up
like an object held by Sisyphus
weighty, weary
inside hapless hands
Jackie Chou is a writer of poetry and flash fiction who has recent work in Chainmail Poetry, Gnashing Teeth Publishing, Poetry Online, Alien Buddha Zine, and Collaborature. Her poems have been translated into Chinese in the journal Poetry Hall. Her story "Kiss From a Rose on the Grey" is forthcoming in Spillwords. She believes that writers must write in order to call themselves writers, and hopes to live up to that demand herself.
PAST DENSE
by Denise Mourges
Between your past and my past
It’s getting crowded in here
Confusing me as to which girl rode the bike
really far Got fat Did coke/downs/meth
Made your cock so hard you could nail pictures to
the wall with it
Damn it!
Now I’m getting sad
I can’t remember
Which girl had the corvette/husbands/grandkids
Swung
Stung you so bad Burnt bridges for you
Wore nothing but a hat when she went before the judge
in Barstow for a speeding ticket
Or was that one of my guys?
Denise Mourges (pronounced Mor-zhay) was raised in Hell’s Kitchen NYC by a theatrical family of Greek ancestry where poetry, philosophy, politics and the arts were a central part of daily family life. They nurtured and encouraged her creativity.
As a young dancer she opened for the Beatles at their historic Shea Stadium concert and multi-city tour of America. Previously, as a Murray the K dancer, she opened the first Rolling Stones concert in NYC and beside acts from Tom Jones to Motown’s finest on TV, where she also appeared in her white go go boots on “Hullabaloo.”
In her turn as a publicist, Denise repped the Cafe Au Go Go in NYC and the Whiskey A Go Go in LA, where she worked with Jim Ladd and Elliot Mintz on their special “Innerview” radio collaboration with Stevie Wonder on his “Songs In the Key of Life” release.
As a journalist Denise wrote for Entertainment Weekly, Star and the New York Times and other publications reviewing music performances and profiling corporate leaders, authors and creatives, and writing about science, medicine and the law. She continues to paint and write.
Capsule / Almost 40
By Natalie Nicole Gilbert
2:05am on May 3rd 2026
by my phone’s satellite link
6:35am Sat Dec 30th
if you trust my old laptop
retrieved and turned on
for want of a DVD Player
Connected to wifi
but adrift in time nonetheless
So too its files
from my final year of Uni
and my first years back on set
pre & post Covid
So fun to play a NASA worker in the 60s
while reading my textbooks
about the Cold War
I do miss it sometimes
the academia
the quiet of set
writing in holding
acting on a sound stage
The sprinklers here
are on a different schedule
At the old place
they sang their song
at 10pm
or 11 during Daylight Saving
A siren’s call to wind down
for bed and the next day’s joys
But here they don’t sing
until 2 or 3am
no lullaby
more commiseration
or gentle reminder
But it’s Saturday turned Sunday
in this timezone anyway
so I needn’t heed their call
just yet
“Which episodes of All Mankind are you in?"
my older sister texts
likely at a Derby party
I look it up on my spreadsheet
of shows, seasons, roles
haircut and car bumps
Prep for me to act in period pieces
the records of paid Covid tests
their own kind of time capsule
It reminded me to update
my headshot with Central
proof that I’m still here
I didn’t leave
like so many others
And their portal
is a time capsule too
pictures from photoshoots
selfies in historic clothes
examples of timelessness
So many of my favorite memories
on sets and sound stages
are the moments
between takes
The waiting and being
hair and makeup already done
cameras turning around
stillness
The most familiar kind
“backstage”
The only kind of stillness
that’s comfortable for me
because I’m about to do
the thing I was assigned
the thing I was chosen to do
And the open schedule is familiar
the framework the same
crafty and trailers
‘rolling’ and ‘cut’
Even if the location changes
along with the cast and crew
After a while even the costumes
are old friends
another era
wrapped around you
The hairspray is itchy
the bobby pins take forever
to remove at home
But the experience sticks with you
It teaches you about story
about people
For that set of 12 hours
you’re family
a community joined
for a united cause
You bring yourself to it
your humanity
your history
Tilly Norwood can’t do that
It’s sad to watch it dismantle
Art & Artisans
lost to CEOs
bankrupt in every way
But I see pipelines rebuilding
in spite of them
artists reshaping
redefining
At Televerse we spoke of AI
coming storms and trends
They were ultra alarmist
but understandable
they were holding the line
There were POWs
who reenacted Star Trek
to momentarily escape
physical and mental bounds
And media also helps us build
like my library card
bringing me books
on gardening
Or the time capsule
of Steele seasons
with commentary 20 years on
viewed another 20 later still
And I can see it
in their Farewell bonus features
the impact of women writers
and men unafraid
to feel
Life always imitates art
and vice versa
rarely more so
than in that show
I’m glad to see
how many careers it started
especially for folks
in their 30s and 40s
Still working today
Almost 40 years later
I’ve been thinking a bit lately
about my own creative origins
I’ve now made a whole shelf for them
Writing chief among them
Unpacking has brought out
four laptops
two three kindles
two Androids
and one HP something or other
Each a time capsule of its own
along with recalling
when or why I moved on
the A’s were sticking
the screen was replaced in London
but now needs to be repaired
again, four years on
favorite software
no longer worked on them
Or Veteran Affairs
sent just enough
to buy a backup
But I still remember
the relevant passwords
resetting them regularly
after this or that breach
One even sent me a check in the mail
enough to pay
a month of this or that
Well, the sprinkler song is done
2:43 by one measure
7:12 by the other
Natalie Nicole Gilbert is a multi-award-winning Los Angeles-based musician, songwriter, producer, and voiceover artist. She is a member of the Recording Academy and known for her emotional honesty, resilience, and unique blend of radio, voice work, and modern music production.
Dougler and the Effortarian Church
By Darren Hembd
He was encouraged--inspired, even--to keep trying, ever since he read that pamphlet from the Church. The Effortarian Church. Their motto was to "Keep trying! You can do it!" and he was *ever* so grateful. QED.
"I knew from that point, I should make an effort," Dougler proudly inhaled, all confident like. "It's one step from doing nothing, and two steps from giving up." He had no time to give up, because of -Effort-.
Said church was not the same as Ghost Church, or even regular times church. It had several types of weight sets, a bike that went *nowhere*, and a strange, loud sidewalk for walking. It also had ... a dress code.
"You have to wear an Effortarian tuxedo," more-or-less demanded the sign next to the entrance. They weren't fussing about so. No, sir. They wanted people to be all serious about their efforts, you see. (p.113)
The priests of this church were very encouraging. They reminded you that yes, you can do it and, AND to keep trying. Why, it was their very motto, if you can believe it. Also, they *encouraged* drinking water.
"Water is great, because it keeps you hydrated," smiled Louise van Shimmer (age 43). "It's okay to drink our water if you want." She mainly wanted people to bring their bottles from home. "We do have paper cups."
Dougler was amazed that the church was open 113 hours per day. Whilst this made no sense to You and I, it was encouraging to folks like our hero, Dougler. Basically, he couldst go to church anytime he wanted.
"Can you believe it?" Dougler asked You via believing waves. "Even though it's 1:13 in the morning, I'm going to church." Notably, he was wearing his Effortarian tuxedo, *and* had his very own bottle for water.
Not long ago, all of the churches of Pickwoode that were available required church clothes and that folks quietly sat through some big talk that a priest was keen upon so. It was, pretty much, not so fun at all.
"Church shouldn't be fun," frowned Priest Charcoal (age 43). He was either in a bad mood, or *this* was the happiest he wouldst ever get so. "Church is about wearing church clothes *and* sitting around quietly."
The thing is, Dougler tried all *that* pageantry, and did not feel as encouraged as he would have liked to so. He felt like what he needed was a church that gave him the pep to *really* enjoy the day, you see.
"You're doing great," motivated Sinnamon Solder (age 43). She worked at the Effortarian Church for about 113 minutes a day, and pretty much spent all of her time hanging out otherwise. Today was her day off.
Ah. You're probably wondering about the bottom line. It's a reasonable concern, considering that even churches need lights, plumbing, heating, and what not. Well. Check this out: they were exempt from that.
"It says in the rules," explained Dr. Chess (age 43). "If you're a church, you get a free ride." Referring to the *free* ride that churches got, just like in the rules. "All your bills are paid by those taxes."
No one minded the taxes. It went to important stuff, which included churches. After all, where else are you going to wear your church clothes? The Mall? Some park no one ever heard of so? Also, those tuxedos.
"A good Effortarian tuxedo has stripes and zippers," smiled Muscles Malone (age 43). "Check mine out: it has both." He was proud of the stripes and zippers on his tuxedo. "Also, my shoes have modest feathers."
The Zippers.
Darren Hembd, survivor of abuse that processes trauma through fiction.
more stories at: https://substack.com/@darrenhembd
Drive Me
By Snow Mack
Image "The Adventures of Star Map Kid" by Snow Mack
Mixing blue and green to make the perfect color
Shaking the brush to splatter the canvas
Somewhere a phone is ringing
That won't bother me
I've got my tunes flowing in my head
Doing what comes naturally
I wake up, and it's today
I'll be on my way
Picking up the scattered toys
What should I make for dinner?
Wearing the mask of a normal life
We pay the bills and go to bed
Light bulbs flashing in our eyes
We pull away the disguise
Flying across the sky
Leave a message on the machine
Will you be at the place, at the time, we agreed?
We clever ourselves into a corner
World spins on a dime
I read the paper
Truth tells lies
Concentrate on being late
Diamond patterns pass before my eyes
The circle clues me in
Drive me to the ocean
I need to feel the spray
Drive me to the mountain
I need to look far away
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. SnowMack.com - IG @snowmackart
This is a mad country
By Don Kingfisher Campbell
Full of mad drivers
Driving madly to
Get to mad work
To pay mad bills
So they can be mad
In their homes with mad
Families mad together
Facing the madness
Mad at mad gas prices
Mad at the mad cost of food
Mad at being mad
About the mad profits
And our mad prophets
Get mad at our mad leaders
Who send mad bombs to
Make more people mad
When will the madness end
When the mad universe
Finishes its mad collisions
And there will be nothing left
But Peace
Don Kingfisher Campbell, MFA Antioch University L.A., taught at USC and Occidental College Upward Bound, board member California Poets In The Schools, publisher Four Feathers Press, host of the Saturday Afternoon Poetry reading and workshop series in Pasadena, California. For awards, features, and publication credits, please go to: http://dkc1031.blogspot.com
An Ode to Rosslyn Chapel
by Matthew DeHaven
Rosslyn, let me in
to your hallowed, pillared splendor
where flowers float and stars do shine
where faces spew forth the leaf and vine
swirling comfort in your wonder
Swirling comfort in the wonder
Rosslyn's built to gaze and ponder
carved mysteries of the past
both biblical and pagan
with a silence meant to last
to the countless questions asked
Rosslyn, O' Rosslyn
men and centuries do come -and they do go
while on your hilltop you proudly stand
keeping answers to what you know
'mongst angel wings and pillars grand
O' Rosslyn, let me in
let me gaze and let me ponder
in the swirling comfort of your wonder
the swirling comfort of the wonder
where stars float and flowers shine
in this moment there is only time
for resting in your arms
Matthew DeHaven is an actor, artist and writer living in Pasadena. He likes to create narrative poetry in iambic pentameter and rhyme that harkens back to Shakespearian times.
Poem
By G. Billie Quijano
I dream in color
Sometimes shades of gray
Abstract in thought
Jazz in my corazon
Juxtaposition of soul
Evolving to cause
My impeccable word
East Los memories
Portal of rebirth
Elixir of pozole
Fruit of the Nopal
Sweetness escaping my lips
Revolutionary rhythm
La Liberacion
Indigenous clarity
Ancestral victories
Red, white and green ribbons
Danced through the skies
Coyolxauhquis moon
Exporting wisdom
Operas of magica Mexicana
Sacred elements
Heartbeats in ceremony
Conch shells singing to the sea
Solidarity of spirit
Sanctuary of soul
G. Billie Quijano-Hija de East Los. Indigena. Natural Creative. Poeta. Provocateur. Renaissance Bruja. Survivor.
What Does it Look Like on the Other Side of This?
By Heather Romero-Kornblum
Kissing the cats’ heads and
randomly eating bread at 2am
Knowing you are held up
by a life force that doesn't care
whether you have all the answers
You are fat again
So fat
The fat you never thought would
grow again
on your body
when you were shriveled
in a hospital bed
soaked in sweat
wires pumping
into you
out of you
gauging your pulse
You are now haunted
in your nightmares
by people who believe
you are well
enough
to tear down
You realize this itself is
victory
Being able and
around
to tell your story
cliche that it is
So much rain
And wind
And sun
And blah foggy mists
Mornings you didn't think you would have
running up the stairs to the car
from your little garden patio
How beautiful the wood of your cabin walls
smells when you approach
knowing it's all yours
There was a space for you
after all
in this world
you were meant to fit
A former academic researcher, Heather Romero-Kornblum returned to poetry after several near-death experiences due to Long Covid. She captures the crumbling of her marriage in the wake of her near-death experiences in I’M NOT OVER YOU – the 2025 Four Feathers Press Chapbook Contest winner.
She is published in multiple journals and anthologies, including with Women Who Submit in ‘This Makes up the Sky’ and ‘Accolades,’ LA Art News Poet's Place, Quiet Lightning’s ‘Sparkle and Blink,' Four Feathers Press monthly anthologies with her poem 'Alienation' winning a 2025 Print Poetry Award, The Zest of the Lemon, Plague 2020: A world Anthology of Poetry and Art About Covid-19, on the ZZyZx WriterZ podcast, and has featured at multiple venues, including at the WordParty Poetry and Jazz monthly series, Sacred Grounds – the longest running open mic in San Francisco, Mutiny Radio, Poems under the Dome, Four Feathers Press, Cobalt Poets, and Lyrical Flames.
https://www.heatherkornbooks.com/
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. And this month April 12 showing artwork again at the Los Angeles Makery her photograph, Ladispoli, Roma will be included in The Quiet show.
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, 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, 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!! Her documentary short of the making of “20 Years Left” screened at the Highland Park Independent Film festival in 2023 and was awarded an Honorable Mention. 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.
www.lindakayepoetry.com
Twitter/Instagram: lindakayepoetry
www.laartnews.com
https://shoutoutla.com/meet-linda-kaye-poet-theatrical-poetry-producer-retired-social-worker-and-professor/
http://voyagela.com/interview/daily-inspiration-meet-linda-kaye/https://
shoutoutla.com/meet-linda-kaye-poet-poetry-and-theatrical-producer-filmmaker/