POETS PLACE
MAY 2021
Mental Health Awareness Month
What are you all doing to stay sane and healthy? There’s always so much dirt flying around that it takes all of our strength sometimes to stay above water and the mud! I find that I sometimes have to drag myself out of bed and force myself to exercise, stretch, walk and write. That works for me, but I know it doesn’t work for everyone. Depression is rampant amongst so many people right now, I wonder if it’s contagious. It takes effort, lots of effort to do anything that is meaningful, even just bathing sometimes, and not everyone has the motivation to take the leap. Depression has many faces. It is often triggered by the situation, the time of day, the weather, and certain anniversary’s, a history of trauma, genetics, nature and nurture, feelings of helplessness, death, divorce and low self-esteem. Just to name a few reasons. It’s just so very personal. It can be a choice to avoid the inevitable, a demon that needs to be fed, an emotional imbalance caused by brain chemical dysfunctions, or an inability to regulate emotions triggering a loss of self worth and embarrassments. Whatever the cause, there is always help and treatment. Whenever I have been alerted to someone’s pain from depression, I acknowledge him or her, them, they with love and kindness and offer an ear if that’s what is asked for. Many people do not share their pain and often suffer in silence, which is so sad since there is always hope if you reach out.
Please, reach out. Always.
Mental illness as a hustle
By Linda Kaye
It slowly creeps in through the woodwork like a slippery slime that penetrates and destroys the brain cells
combusting synapses
deluding time
First signs are somewhat scary voices cheering
Creepy looks from strangers keep leering
the families love disappearing
The disheveled clothes appearing
the stink and smell of the abandoned hope
empty pockets
no dough for dope
to stifle the sounds of the last goodbyes familiar ties
dreams gone awry
Paranoid police distributing the law handcuffs clinking no eyes blinking
“Make room fella the Nimbyness princess is coming!”
"Pull up your pants!" “Not in my backyard!”
"Come on lady give me a dollar I wont holler or bother or stab you to death with bad breath!"
“Waz up homeboy homegirl are you getting ready to be going to Mars to listen to the stars?”
Hey the Apocalypse is coming and the voices keep on Drumming directions to slit my throat
Because Jesus saves
and Armageddon has slaves
Hey it's time for the parade
are your genitals made from clay?
"is this the real life or is it fantasy caught in a landslide no escape from reality open your eyes look up to the sky and see
I'm just a poor boy
nothing really matters to me"
Crystal Cove
By Valerie Larsen
I’m looking back at sharks shoved off, The Beaten Bloody Heads I Faced. Santiago and I, Winners? Or mere survivors of the Race.
With nothing but a skeleton, We show the Glories and the Horrors, What might’ve been or could’ve been: The Pyrrhic victories of Wars.
However one assesses grief, The credit one might give for a life Still lived—which often might have died— It can’t compare to the Relief from Strife.
For now on this Laguna Beach, The waves repeat that I am safe. And I’m so thankful for my friends Who wouldn’t let me stay the waif.
So I marvel at what I see And not just see, but what I Feel, Each paint-by-number color and hue, Every Blue, Green, White, and Teal.
Remembering all the times I’ve shared These sights and sounds with Heroin, King Alcohol, Jester-O-Joint, Queen Depression, who did me in...
They were friends who nearly killed me Who deadened me beyond belief. And when I finally cared—I fled— Instead, to Dr. Brown for relief.
Now, with no possessions to parade, I’m like the pelican at sea, Dipping into the abundance, Wondering what’s out there for me.
Valerie Larsen is a retired high school English teacher of 37 years teaching in California. She now writes poetry in a writing group in the San Gabriel Valley and spends time working out and volunteering at a house of prayer. She is a recovering alcoholic with 27 years sobriety and she laments, “hold my head high with that acknowledgment. I have had chronic pain, emotional traumas, and addiction as part of my life. I have written all of my life and as an adult, spirituality has intersected with pain in my very personal poetry. It has become a therapy for me as well as an art form”.
Oh, The Horror, The Horror
By: IE Carlo
13 April 2021
Oh, the horror, the horror
Black is beautiful but not in a casket today
Black is beautiful if allowed to say it with faith
Black is beautiful if left to live in this space
Oh, the horror, the horror
Yes an apocalypse of horror
Black means death is on its way
Not a day goes by where death means another black soul will die today
Here in this god forsaken country of wealth we die for being black not one not two but countless blacks because of the color of our skin and we wait for death to rejoice in that kingdom of god given to us by people who know nothing of that god they profoundly say of their faith...the power of the state is greater than the power of the people and yet it is written that the power belongs to the people but not for black people and their race…
Oh, the horror, the horror
Sad is the state for we of the black race are here to stay and we of the yellow race are here to stay and we of the brown race are here to stay and we of the red race are here to stay and we we we will stay
Regardless of the horror, the horror
Oh, the horror, the horror of the state
Meaningless consequences for those who kill those of another race and yet we of a different race search for a way to live in this state with some kind of faith not by way of retribution but that faith given to us by this white race
Oh, the horror, the horror
Of being black brown red yellow in this state
Of horror, oh, the horror, the horror
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
CRAZY
4-28-21
3:00pm
by Mary Cheung
I must be crazy to want to fall,
So deep there's no safe return,
Least my heart tumble and fall.
Watch my sanity burn.
I must be crazy, to think I'll find,
Good looks, loving and kind.
But I keep searching, with hopes that someday I'll find....
That 1 in a million, that'll click into place.
We fit like a glove;
I knew you had good taste.
I must be crazy to put up with your moods.
The one that swings from 1 end to the next.
Bewitched again, I'm under your hex.
I must be crazy to put myself through it over and over again.
The really high, highs
And really low, lows that never seem to end.
I must be crazy to come back to this brutal love.
I'm a paper thin Chinese lantern, hanging from above.
Handle me with care,
because I easily tear.
Blazing brightly,
I'm a beacon to guide you to me.
I must be crazy,
to put it out there, for everyone to see....
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”.
“Oahu no ka oi”—
by Sarah Hunter
The moon touches the tops of the Pali’s. The reflection of its white roundness reverberates on the ocean, waves lap to the shore in a rhythmic “s-h-h- h-h.” The pounding waves hit the sand in a soft tango. A music of their own. Oahu nights. 1974-1980.
The smell of the plumeria drifts through my classroom window in Manoa Valley. Filipino, Japanese, Chinese and Hawaiian teenagers arrive in the morning to prop their surfboards against my classroom door. None of them are particularly fond of Shakespeare or the poetry of John Keats, but that’s what I’m serving up, and that’s what I care about. I’m young, and I don’t know any better. I think they should be “exposed” to the great Caucasian writers. I’m probably right, because they don’t look like they’re suffering too much.
In the early evening I drive up the road to Mt. Tantalus. The mountain of green. My trusty Volkswagen putters up the side of the mountain. Eucalyptus and ginger blossoms waft through the night air. Fleetwood Mac plays on the radio. “... and if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again. I can still hear you sayin’ you would never break the chain...” I’m forever young, and I will never be old.
This is a dream. Light, sun, light again, moonlight. Orange and purple sunsets with deep pinks and spattered gold. Time is suspended. There is no reason to sleep. Morning is gentle and soft, filled with misty rain and scattered rainbows.
And even if there’s no love, it’s hard to be sad in Paradise. The green and blue and yellow and orange and red of nature always remind me that I’m alive. Completely alive. I’m leading with all my senses.. I can dance all night and study all day, work all day, stay electrifyingly awake. And night sings seductive songs over the trade winds. The winds tell me that morning will never come, and if it does, it will be tender. It won’t hit me between the eyes,
Mountains, ocean, sand, gardenias, orchids. It’s a never-ending reverie. Life offers eras that move us forward. It offers time to slow down, to reflect. To be young and naive in the Islands is a gift. Gifts are to be unwrapped, opened up and cherished. I do and I did. Oahu no ka oi. Oahu, “nothing better.”
Sarah Hunter began creating characters and dramas in her neighborhood backyard at age eight back in West Lafayette, Indiana. From graduate school to her time in Los Angeles, Sarah remains a dedicated student of classical and modern theater.
She has dubbed Japanese cartoons, done voice-over work, had her original plays produced in Los Angeles and Pasadena, and continues acting, creating, writing and dreaming. The most important thing for Sarah is the continuous re-inventing of herself each time she writes another play or TV episode. Working with Sandra Cruze, on TWO HEADS ARE BETTER PRODUCTIONS has allowed her to continue writing episodes and acting, working on her one- woman solo shows which she has presented at Beyond Baroque in Venice, CA and her “Dogs are Better Than People” at the Whitefire Theater in West Los Angeles. She will be presenting this piece a second time, as she has been awarded “The Best of the Solo Fest.” Stay tuned for June 12 at 7PM.
Sarah loves writing and performing in the episodes in “We’re Not Dead Yet” (WNDY) and enjoys watching them on the YOUTUBE channel. She and her creative partner, Sandra Cruze have been awarded 5 wins for their series. They are having a ball and definitely not “dead yet.”
Life is good.
POEM by G. Billie Quijano
We are hungry for that touch
Hungry for that kiss
How many more months till we reach that bliss?
Contemplating suicide
Hurtful thoughts may not subside
How do we stave off depression?
All the while lifting oppression
Give me your hand
As we all take a stand
Joy is constant
Laughter infectious
Contemplating suicide
It doesn’t have to hide
Keep moving towards the bliss
And you won’t wait long for that kiss
G. Billie Quijano- bio
“Everyday I have new mind, body, emotional, psychological discoveries, a soul awakening, soul retrieval. A new journey of learning, self-compassion. I am my own eco-system, complete with fears, phobias, grief, passion, a soaring imagination, depression, vegan, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, joy, la vida loca, my third eye, ruby red lips, bruja, camera in one hand, brushes, needles and thread in the other. Palabra Mujer.Feminista. Executive Chola. I observe what surrounds me with awe. I am curious and delighted about nature. The cosmos are astounding and mysterious. My thesaurus is one of my best friends. Gente is my muse. Sometimes my brain is a clown car, most of the time it’s a working machine. What makes me happy, memories of east los, jazz, tamales, mota, true love, colores, guacamole, funny ass people and my camaradas.”
Genuine
By Jacqueline Ray Phillips
The Poetess Reigns
She says...
Soft & Tender
Are The Heat of The Tongue
The Soft & The Tender
The Membranes
Do Flowingly
Love Thee
An Excursion of the Mind
Dedicated...
Until The End
Until The End of Time
The Science of The Mind
Meditates...
Onto The Membranes
Of My Soul
Exciting Are The Energies
Of Love Flowing Strong
Through & With
Synchronized Passions
The Exotic & Erotic
Experience of Inner Peace
Everlasting Lasting
And Forever
Closer and Closer
To Love’s Bright Lights
AMPLIFIED
Every Time
It’s Genuine...
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.
DARK
By Richard Russeth
Loss is troublesome,
but to let it
bother you,
I don’t know.
In the end we are all,
all of us, always lost,
in places we would,
on any other day,
recognize.
Being lost
can be a tragedy,
being found
perhaps
the more so.
The world is large,
I want to see it
before it
goes dark.
Richard Russeth is a poet, photographer, baker and magician who lives in Ohio with his wife Charlotte
May Poem: 2021
By Ronald G. Carrillo
Sometimes that Blanche DuBois mood overtakes me
When I feel the world is wicked
I seek refuge that I know I must discover on my own
Relief from the cruelty of this time that no lover can give me
When I was young I wanted to run away from it
I knew this planet was not my true home
Only a learning ground that could advance my spirit
I now understand the polarity of my environment
But its violence and hate still frighten me
Rendering me to that place where I seek escape
But then the dark clouds clear and I see my way to you
Our soft time overcoming these pandemic blues
Fast feet developing a lover’s speech
And tranquil nesting while investing in love
Years of sobriety have steadied me
Years of waiting have given me gratitude
My perseverance has only deepened my regard
Mr. Blue you were always my man
Your rainbow heart generous
Your Los Angeles eyes soulful
My past beaus echo my road to you
They were loving sometimes naughty stepping stones
Romance has rough edges
Its challenges only matures love
The aging process of our youth mellows our drama
Oh Papa man come unto me and lovers we will be
Free from the LBGTQ label just me and you
No politics not public approval no marrying
I know we are caring one for the other
Just holding hands and washing our dinner dishes
Kisses and planning many more tomorrows
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.
Thanks for joining! 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, 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
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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.
www.lindakayepoetry.com
Twitter/Instagram: lindakayepoetry
www.laartnews.com