Poets Place
March 2020
As we roll into March we find ourselves contemplating our presidential choices and decisions for democratic candidates. Maybe we are hopeful and maybe not. How can we not be cynical in this climate riddled with so much doubt and not enough security? Are we just waiting for “The Glew”? As the Poetess Reigns writes in her poetry offering. “Tick Tock waiting for the clock…” What can we do to hold on and find the calm and some serenity? “Just one moment let me take a good long look at him (or her or them). With a fresh pair of eyes like a newborn baby looking at the sky for the first time”. Jen Bouchard touchingly writes in her piece. We need that softness, that caring, for ourselves to nurture us through those waves of darkness that sometimes over burden us, and cloud our senses. Let’s declare squatters rights in our own domains! As Ron Carrillo so adeptly wrote in his piece “The Writers Domain”. Right on Ron! For myself, I am humbled by the poets and writers that I share the Los Angeles stage with and I want to host you all! For this month I offer this poem:
Journeys End
Her heart bled yearly, as did this season’s balled and rotted roses. With only one day left of life before the inevitable decline. In her mind she desperately and fruitlessly clung to the fading color that was once radiant. It felt as though her heart would break as the petals loosened and began their journey downward. A frequent reminder of it and life’s demise.
The beginning of the blooming cycle was a harsh and constant reminder of when her Father, a man of fierce convictions first planted those rose bushes. It was around the time, unduly, of her only son's untimely death.
The blooms would peak and laugh at her she thought, the same time of year creating for her a somber reflection, a slap in the face, of the passage of life a rebirth of a new season of unrelished change. The colors textures smells always changing. Never as lush as the year before but subtly different, coaxing- as were her perennial dower thoughts.
You’d hope that watching and participating in the constant cycle of growth and budding of the roses would help to distract away from her painful and tragic loss.
A medicinal tincture if you will, to alleviate the depression and profound sadness.
Counting religiously the falling petals as she did time. Everyday. Always.
Here are the offerings from our talented poets of March 2020!
The Poetess Reigns aka JackieRay Phillips is Creator of The Poetry of Justice Show, Where Social Consciousness Meets the Arts. The Show is designed to spark the interest and awareness of social diversity ranging from arts, entertainment and social justice at large. Catch The Poetry of Justice Show Saturday nights 6:00-8:00pm PST Live @Yikesradio.com and @AcceleratedRadio.net in addition to all other podcast streaming platforms. You may also view and subscribe to the Show’s YouTube channel @The POJ Show. Follow us on IG @The POJ Show and FB @ The Poetry of Justice Show and JackieRay Phillips.
The Glew
Tick-Tock
Waiting for the clock
To stroke the strike of 12
Twelve dancers prancing
And glancing...
Through the trees
With electric energy
Seamlessly true
Ecstatic and wildly new
Existence
The way of life
Loving beneath the skin
Getting it ALL in
Into the groove
Stop!
Don’t you move
Making it smooth
Into the right place
Hunting the great Fate
A quest for self
Like a Big Game TROPHY
Recognizing the Stealth
Ho-Hum...
Who have we become?
Is this really new?
Sudden! Like BOOM!?
Straight out the Blue?
What about you?
What do you think?
What makes your heart sink?
Into the well...
Praying to GOD it’s not Hell!
Those fiery gates of fright!
Sometimes even on a Friday night!
What the sight!
To see...
Just Me...
Being ME...
Ooh-Wee!
Jen Bouchard is a poet and actress residing in Los Angeles. Last fall, she traveled to New York to perform her work in a Burden To Bare Art exhibit, performed in The Vagina Monologues at Muckenthaler Cultural Center, a featured poet for Polar Harmony organization, and performed a spoken word piece for Healthy Housing Foundation’s first poetry event, The LA Dream. She recently self published her first collection, White Helmet.
You were the last chapter of my story.
I created you into a godlike stature with the veins of all my monsters
So I could look high and marvel at the debris and decay which is now called my past life.
My past life a whole pile of sad tales Which I now close and leave at my bedside table.
As a reminder to never live in that story again.
But sometimes you jump out the pages
Come alive
When a new lover comes to leave his clean canteen of drinking water on my bedside.
When his godlike shadow bounces on the wall
There you are.
Latching yourself like heavy iron
My tired eyes
Crumbling like fallen warriors
Battle worn and fed up
I would give anything for just one clear look.
A breath of fresh air his baby smooth skin
Words filling me with sweet forgiveness
He reminds me with his song to forgive.
Yet your story still lingers to kill the magic of his kiss.
Let me have just one moment.
Just one moment let me take a good long look at him.
With a fresh pair of eyes like a newborn baby looking at the sky for the first time.
Just one moment where you haven’t carved yourself on me like a tattoo
Burning the insides of my lips
Turning them to prickly thorns
Leaving him scathed bare and raw to the bone.
Just one moment let me look at him
Let me be reminded that I have soft lips
That I am welcoming and warm
That I swoon and giggle and god forbid moan
Let me take my new lovers canteen of clean drinking water
Let it wash over me like I’m being baptized made holy again by his perfectly imperfect pure immaculate skin.
Harmless non threatening fearless his shadow bounces until the entire rooms spins.
Let it heal me or that very least let it be temporarily relief
Let the thorns slowly fade as I feel the magic when we play.
Let the music stay the same
Let me not be reminded of that day
One year
One fight one anything
It’s moment like these.
When I’m pleading for the impossible to be.
It’s moments like these
That I have to make peace with the fact that I might not ever be free.
Otherwise you will cover me whole
Until I lie with you in a dark hole
Dreaming the impossible dream
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 Writer’s Domain
The dark and light of it
Left me in shadows and doubt
About a mystery never clearly explained to me
I was without him
But within my own space
I realized what I wanted
But didn’t need his embrace
It was a myth we were all chasing
Racing for a spin on love’s roulette wheel
It wore me out knowing I could never win
Let’s make a deal with jeopardy
I dipped my pen in Eros’ blood
And replenished my Soul in the poet’s love
That only words can represent me
Distilling bad dreams and fending off enemy Lotharios
Still grinding my own coffee beans
And fighting the righteous fight
Despite bad karma in the night
And astral traveling in another life
Trying to make things right in such poor light
Like a moth drawn to uncertain flames
I declare squatter’s rights in a writer’s domain
Thanks for joining us!
Please submit your work to:lindakayepoetry@icloud.com
Linda Kaye