POETS PLACE
September Edition 2022
Can someone please turn down the heat? By the looks of this country’s administration’s response to the people's needs I think most likely their brains have fried and become scrambled! Ya, gas prices have come down, but why were they raised to begin with?? How much mo’ money do the overly rich oil tycoons gotta make?? Is their dial always set to ‘gouge’ so that those unfortunate people who can barely make ends meet pay for their greediness? My head is constantly feeling like its going to explode with tension headaches consuming my waking hours. It is totally understandable why there is a pervasive blanket of depression covering our society, suffocating our ability to protect the frayed fabric of our world. We need a magic cloak of faith and hope that can shade the heat and pressure of dismay and disillusionment.
Wrestling with my ego
By Linda Kaye
wrestling with the massive amounts of psychic energy in my head
wrestling with the juggling of a vast array of emotions, the curtsy of despair, the constant flagrant mash up of monstrous political voices that are compounded to destroy love in our society, in this world
at this our juncture in life
is quite daunting
haunting
the unclouded, unabashed, realistic mind, ergo ego and personality are struggling to accept human ineptitude’s, selfishness, greed and stupidity
the severe lack of manners not to mention discipline or commitment to one’s word
the phenomenal lack of harmony, humanity, mindfulness, acceptance and enlightenment in our basic human race
Trips me out
Hundreds of Frogs
By Josette Siqueiros 05/30/2017
The sweet counterpoints of musical pangs
that have those nostalgic young days of yearning for the love sound.
The wonderments and images of a heart dancing with
the interior soul of a blazing fire.
Twirling sounds around the room
That move fast and are awaking the senses.
Enticing you to be part of a set compass, it follows the image of a beloved one.
Your and my hearts find joyous spins alluring in a drunken love.
If solely you and I could answer to the call,
We would know how to bring this about.
If you and I would know how to convey
This whirling pool of love
If only we could give our hearts the chance and courage
to lift it up and take a glance of it beyond our faces.
Something there in the musicality draws us on
to the promise of our bright captivating eyes,
They make waves of electrical rays!
Fired lit hands and smiling lips that go beyond
the dark curtain of your window.
The room with sky blue walls and
Many florescent stars covered ceiling
That sets the tone of love making in heaven.
You and I may think,
Never knowing
What is it that lies…
Outside of these gentle yearnings
of our old hearts?
Josette Siqueiros, has been an avid reader ever since she learned how to read! She had a library card and began writing poetry at age 13. Now, an English and World Literature Major from Pitzer College Class of ’95, and English teacher; she has acquired a strong appreciation of literature.
In honor of weirdos
by daniel schack
It must be said right now that being strange or weird is not a crime. only an actual crime is the crime, and just as race, gender, religion, orientation, or nationality should not be discriminated against, pretty much neither should there be unwarranted prejudice against one with a different personality.
The poet ,daniel schack can be seen on poetrysoup.com and his art on tumblr adanthemanworld.daniel schack is 57 and is a high school grad. With 3.5 years of college.peace.
NOSTALGIA
3:43pm.
6-20-20
Artwork & poem by Mary Cheung
Everyone has experienced it,
That moment when something triggers your brain,
Sending you back in time.
To that moment,
when all was well and your life was riding flush,
with splendor, hope, desire, and good fortune.
When nothing bad invaded your space and you were abuzz and high with life and the love of it.
I get that feeling when I look at old photos.
They take me bk in time.
And whether it was simple or hard;
On the forefront of it shined... those golden moments.
Nuggets dug up and cherished.
I put that in my pocket and let it warm me up.
Endorphins flooding me, filling me up.
You bring me those postcard moments.
When you dance and the shutters roll.
Turning the world into black and wht.
Film noir and wise guys. Prohibition, red lips and cigars,
What a time! Tommy guns and Great Gatsby cars.
You must be the femme fatale, cuz baby I just can't resist.
Feeling that twinge of nostalgia,
That makes me want to take risks.
So here's looking at you kid,
You can throw me back ...anytime.
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”.
The Sacred Life
By Sherrie Lovler
There comes a time
when you want to run.
Run as far away as you can.
Run from your life. Run from the task that is so large
it cannot be done.
The Sacred Life
But your feet don't move.
And slowly
life opens up
and help appears.
Not in the form you expect but in secrets
and winding roads
and gateways into
the world you long for
but don't know how to reach.
And the task
doesn't get easier
but life gets more beautiful
with a richness you couldn't imagine and a warmth you had never felt
as you directly face the immensity
of what you are called to do.
©Sherrie Lovler
Originally published in On Softer Ground: Paintings, Poems and Calligraphy by Sherrie Lovler
Sherrie Lovler is a painter and poet from Santa Rosa. She teaches classes in calligraphic abstract painting and bookmaking online and nationally. Sherrie’s paintings and poems inspire each other, and are paired in her award-winning book On Softer Ground: Paintings, Poems and Calligraphy. www.artandpoetry.com
Poema
By G. Billie Quijano
Revolution in a mujeres soul
Cause of the universe, whole
Our indigenous blood
Raped through the history of time
Crime after crime, crime after crime
Cosmic sounds
Renaissance spectrum of brown
Mujeres murdered
Warrior résurrection
Illuminating elements of intersection
Ancestors spoke
Their words entwined in copal smoke
Echoes of struggle and trauma
Indeed justice will be served, this is your karma
Our hearts, not for you to vandalize
Yet you continue to colonize
We know no borders
All of these lands are free
Humble offerings to the Brujas of the sea
We are glitter and dust from the bones before
We are the divine design
Colores, memories, energies live in our shrines
La Curandera, La Bruja
Medicina, mysticism, magical real
Refusal to be disappeared
We move the earth, sun and the moon
La Monarcha, swaying and swoon
We rise, we rise
You will hear our cries
As we raise our fists to the skies
Committed to our truth, our liberation
Our voice
Our choice
The rhythm of the Ancients
Wisdom and changes in their passage
Pyramids and codices forever in monument
A new vida has begun
Our faces will feel the warmth of that familiar sun
El Colibri flys in high vibration
Abrazos, besos, intentions, creation
G. Billie Quijano-Hija de East Los. Natural Creative, Photographer, Watercolorist, Assemblage/Textile Work. Bruja, Poeta, Instigator of Beauty, Mestiza.
The landscape of my childhood, my classrooms were elements of urban life, cool concrete, vibrant colors and sounds from a place I love, prepared me for my life as an artist.
My ancestors surrounded me with calla lilies, majestic cactus, sunflowers and bird of paradise. My neighbor Rafael’s rooster was my alarm clock. Trio Los Panchos played the soundtrack. Olvera street was my playground. Saturday’s breakfast was the delicious aromas of menudo, carnitas and freshly made tortillas de maiz from the local tortilleria on Whittier Blvd.
My heroes are the hard working, courageous street artists all over the world. My work is a humble practice of keeping tradition and history alive.
My wish is to share my art, a desire to make a connection and contribution. To maintain beauty and balance in the universe. I want to evolve and participate in the cultural rhythm of the streets and beyond.
Landslide of Lament
By Victoria Estes Orantes
Despite all that is healed.
The old patterns still yield.
Like Job, a grim appeal.
Is the edge always near?
Send a savior to mend the concealed.
She is a place far from sight
Lone warrior in this fight?
Intrusive thoughts, mud of mind
They say, “none will search, so hide.”
The mercy of roots halt a landslide.
A gentle soul to grasp the branch?
Virtue to seize this avalanche?
Learning how to reach out her hand,
She’s learned together mountains stand.
Prohibit pain to give the command.
Victoria was born and raised in Los Angeles, California. She is the owner and operator of the first 1966 Volkswagen Beetle boutique, V.E.O. Visions, where she sells her original art, original jewelry, hand-painted clothing, and curated $5 thrifts. Victoria’s art has been featured in local NELA establishments, art-walks, and recently Shoutout LA magazine.
the women and the promise
by jeffrey chayette / 27 june 2022
promises, wedding days hold promises
hopes dreams beginnings endings and magic
the udashkin fabricant women held a bound; a pact
a line from mothers to sisters to daughters, nieces,
cousins, granddaughters, great-granddaughters
a talisman of gold lace and pearls; a lavalier
a jewel to grace the collar bones and sternum
the wedding promise of carnal bliss
regeneration continuation of the family line
the lavalier held magic and promises from
each generation of the udashkin fabricant females
the strength of ancestors the love of generations
the magic of wedding days
the magic of a gentle kiss on delicate breasts
when will it be my turn to wear the lavalier
under the chuppah and begin a marriage journey
dale ellen changed her name to devo from deborah
her sister nikki ann from nachama
pushed her aside said too bad its mine
ripped the chain of generations
screams shattered dreams
the pieces gathered
losses spared the necklace
was sent out for repair
too late to spare the damage done
the sisters wombs were barren
the generations of udashkins the fabricant females
ended in that spat once repaired
devo held the pearled gold lace charm
envisioned the little girl she’d pass it to
dreams of dying babies woke her from her sleep
she mourned for weeks
returned to a home with broken doors
belongings tossed about
the box with the lavalier had disappeared
exactly what she feared
the gold lace and pearled gem
passed from pawn to towns far and beyond
decades passed as cities dried up in water wars
women banded bonded renounced the marriage institution
brought to fruition a prefecture without men
copulated when ovulating with passing merchants
this band of females shared a gem
engraved on the back udashkin
a necklace with a gold lace and pearl broach
gracing the landscape below the throat
this bit of magic gem was passed to the chosen fem
who mated the passing merchant
who was told at break of day
please move on
Jeff Chayette has lived and loved for 4 decades in Los Angeles.
A multi-faceted artist who attended Art Center College of Design In Pasadena, Jeff has worked on stage, television and films.
His design work has been peer recognized with National and local Emmys, CBS Eye on Excellence and Promax BDA awards.
His current poems are reflections on past and present life in Los Angeles through the eyes of the pandemic. Recent Emmy winner for Best Short promo!!
Thoughts in August 2022
By Ronald G. Carrillo
I am living in these strange times in my sixty eighth year being on this earth journey. When I was in my early teens and would ponder the future ahead of me it was not this chaos and societal dysfunction that I pictured in my young mind.
It was my nirvana dream of calm and all things settled and beautiful. I caught the very end of the hippie era and fell hook, line and sinker for the peace/love movement. The Vietnam war had been raging four solid years and I was now a Sophomore in high school. With the constant Walter Cronkite nightly news casts about this war I was in partial peril of the national reality now on my radar screen. This horror of war however was balanced by the anti-war messages “In my mind I can’t study war no more” that I was receiving from the rock and roll poets of my generation. Although I was very naïve politically and just discovering adult concerns at that tender age of fifteen I still was beginning the journey toward a more serious consciousness. By the time I was in college that level of consciousness was definitely maturing leaps and bounds. My world view was in place for the first time seeing the global village admittedly as a novice but I was viewing the poor state of affairs and America’s negative domination on the world stage.
There was a heaviness in the air of our democracy as the collective awareness of this war seemed to be for naught. Why were we there and having so many young lives placed in danger? These politicians mostly white men endorsing the war would not jeopardize their own sons for this boogey man cause. We were interfering with a sovereign nation’s decision to govern their country in the way that best suited their people. Not unlike what we did in 1776 when we broke ties with Great Britain and formed our republic built on democracy. Young voters especially were waking up to the live development of utilizing a true democracy. We should question and directly participate in our government and its decisions on behalf of the people.
Now again that democracy seems to be in peril and horribly divided. The progressive half aware, fully awake and becoming more conscious of its development into the future. The republic is not a static entity to stay rigid and unable to spread its roots and grow. The other half of our nation is carrying a heavy load of misguided beliefs that the country should remain one way only unable to breath and grow its democratic truths.
Change is inevitable if you are truly alive and moving toward a fulfilling future. Sometimes amidst that changing process is a period of uncomfortableness. If the people are flexible in their democratic beliefs the process of change can be a comfortable process. There is where the thorn lies in this change in the country. The other side that will not tolerate change is creating labor pains that are dangerous and destructive.
America’s towers falling down
Economic chaos on Wall Street
Washington D.C. under siege by a fanatical faction
These staunch Americans are stagnant in their beliefs
Their viewpoint won’t allow for full inclusion
Maintaining the status quo to their death
Proud boys that only bring shame
Breathe and let us move forward as Americans
Not republican or democratic
Not Baptist or Catholic
Not liberal or conservative
Not white or black
But fully actualized human beings
We must lay down the burden of hierarchies
There should not exist supremacies that separate us
Once we create lesser than, greater than
Then we create division, greed and envy
We are still climbing this democratic ladder
We must reach the next rung of freedom
Keep liberty alive let her breathe the air of diversity
Manifest destiny was not only geography
But American creativity toward its glorious history to be
The dream is still alive in so many hearts
American ingenuity has always been our strength
Leading by example never following the herd
Remain strong America your people are truly one of a kind
I continue to see America’s glass half full. Never been a flag waver but in my heart I am your biggest cheerleader. The detours of your development as you grew into your nationhood made you crave empire. Such a scar of power changed your manifest toward a different destiny from your founding principles. Time to put that mantle down and take care of your people. No walls, no police brutality, no discrimination toward the skin, no corporate penitentiaries for money, no proud boys, no multi-millionaire take overs of the common good, no egomaniac politicians, no conspiracies, no false flags, no more cults of personality, no celebrity addiction leading American consumers in their apathy, no blocking an equitable American bill of health, no homeless camps in big American cities, no inequality, no deception, no masks, no more, no more.
Not a flag waver
Just a believer in the red, white and blue of her
Her shining hour diminishing but her destiny
Still winning only waning in the late hour of her democracy
Send me a lifeline Lady Liberty
Uncle Sam has fallen asleep at the wheel
Let us leave this self-centered period of our history
So well defined by a former president of narcissism
A self-promoting ego that was self-destructive in the White House
And rages on still like a wildfire that eventually will burn itself out
Political tantrums and supporting violence on the highest level
Alas let America’s maturity of a true democratic spirit now come forth
Our constitution a living document seeding our democracy
To a higher level and beyond to a more fruitful history
Yes God bless America and sleep well my fellow citizens
Tomorrow always will bring us another day and new opportunities
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.
FISH FACES
By Jon G. Jackson
Look at the fish faces clamoring.
Lips above water, wanting to kiss.
Dozens with wings, and more all the time —
Like koi in a pond, where I’m from.
Fins fluttering, reflections ripple.
One hundred wide eyes
stare wildly at the bright green sky.
A gust of fingers blows through my hair.
Held close by the mountain,
this valley, they say,
is empty now. No more visitors.
Nothing to do here.
Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.
I can’t walk away.
They follow with every step,
and fly to my dreams.
Jon G. Jackson is a retired psychiatrist and depth psychotherapist, and an award-winning poet. He facilitates an ongoing Rainer Maria Rilke reading group sponsored by the Friends of the San Francisco Jung Institute. He has taught two ten-lecture courses: “Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet” and “A Psychological Approach to the Old Testament.” He currently teaches a shorter course on Rilke for the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at Sonoma State University. He is the author of a book of poems Practicing Silence.
Thanks for joining us! We will continue to host writers and poets of all genres.
Please submit your written work to: lindakayepoetry@icloud.com and include a short bio.
Linda Kaye writes poetry, curates poetry, produces films, produces spoken word and art events and producesa 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, Zweet Café in Eagle Rock, The 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
Most recently, 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
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 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