POETS PLACE
February Edition 2023
As the world continues to turn and we attempt to come together on an even plane, we ultimately slip and start to regress to what’s familiar. Comfortable. Sane like. Blind to reality. Maybe leaving one’s comfort zone is not your jam. Well that’s okay. Because the world out there, out of your c-zone is fucking crazy and totally out of wack! Many (ignorant) people in our country follow the advice of the leaders of violence, decadence, gluttony and greed. Those leaders accept and believe that the destruction of our planet is their birth right. Or political right. Is that true? I have not fact checked that statement. Nor do I plan to. It just makes me sick to read about the political landscape at the moment. It scares me. Please help me to feel safe here. I feel as if every day there are death threats knocking on my door. It pulses in my veins constantly, like a meditation beat, a heartbeat, a throbbing time bomb signaling pressure to do something, or do nothing. There’s this pervasive and perverse anger boil that rests at the base of my neck. Squeezing and draining out the life force that is trying to live there. Can you feel me? I definitely feel you. Sometimes too much. It’s what fuels my neck boil. So let’s pop this sucker and read some poetry to ease our personal pain and shout out to the world our inner most thoughts. Hopefully of love and pleasure!!!
Love, Linda :0)
Death Threats
By Linda Kaye
I see you lurking behind that cloak of mysterious intentions
I smell your death perfume
it permeates the room like a rotting rat
I see what you’re up to
you think I don’t know what you want?
you think I’m blind to the fact you want to take away my lifestream my heart dreams
take away my sex chops
to pull out all the stops and plug the ventilation tube
wipe out the world beneath my feet?
Do you have a warrant for my arrest?
What you say? It’s gonna be a cardiac arrest?
What the fuck!!
You already have taken away my memory of the best years of my life
stashed it away in a dust ridden box
I don’t accept your subpoena
your paperworks a crock
I won’t sign anything cuz the dates are undetermined
It’s too early for jury duty and my number is too high
Wait! I still have a hall pass
I can show it to you
Have you already taken my memory card?
What did you just say?
my focus is hazy
are you already pulling my plug?
What happens next do I sit still whilst you drain my blood wash away my tears drug my fears with 1000 beers?!
Are my amends being heard over the screams of my aborted children?
Is this the revenge from my bullish teen victims?
Have I not atoned for all my sins?
Hey wait! Those are the sins that were perpetrated by my dead to early young mom
Do I have to pay for those sins?
Am I not worthy?
Wait I think I still have that credit slip for 1000 points of unused tix towards Disneyland’s ride of thrills, just wait a minute and I’ll go get it
just hang up your hat and sickle I’ll be right back
Btw you’re knock is heinous and your wearing a stupid hat!
I love my heart
By Patricia Woodlin
I love my heart
It's always there for me
day, night, morning, afternoon
every minute, second, week
month, year, summer ,winter,
fall, spring
O how I love my heart
Tic toc...tic toc...tic toc
Steady she goes..resolute, dependable
resilient, reliable
Mostly strong sometimes weary
but always willing to carry on
I love my heart
Patricia Woodlin is a retired Art Dept. professor from CSULA. She has authored books,published refereed journal articles, and given numerous presentations to local, national and international professional organizations on art education related topics. Currently she's co-curating and exhibition for the Ontario Museum of History and Art entitled "We the People. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow".
KEEPING THE DOCTOR AWAY
By
Marilyn Fuss
February, 2017
The core of the apple I'd cut for you
still juts, oxidizing, faintly obscene,
in the halo of the paring gadget,
all unnoticed before.
The Fuji was struck with one motion,
making eight seedless wedges of maximum flesh.
One a day is the prescription
to keep prescribers away,
with their tablets of impossible scribble
for more bitter antidotes.
But what is the dosage for a fever
that renders this apple's fall from innocence?
A former teacher and go-fer, Marilyn Fuss has spent most of her life in Los Angeles, appreciating as many of its details as she can, and working to have a safe country to live in.
A LOVE LETTER OF SORTS
1-26-23
4:35 a.m.
By Mary Cheung
I’m lonely, and it's hard to fathom feeling like that. Especially for someone whose life has always been consumed with people in it in one way or another.
Especially for someone who’s had children in their life that commanded all of their moments in it. Then those moments died a creeping death of silence and loneliness. Now there’s no one that commands any importance.
I’m lonely.
I know it's hard to believe. With so much always going on in my life. So much Hustle and bustle, of things to do….that the “stuff” is just noise and not really things that matter in the scheme of life. Just something to keep me busy.
And one day I’ll be dead and gone and none of it would have mattered other than the life that grew and the creation of love and moments from another human being.
It’s pinpoint clear to me, in this early hour…that I have no real focal point of another real human. A tangible presence for me; to inspire me to get up in the mornings to and with.
To look forward to engaging with. To making new experiences with. To grow fond of. To be romantic and grow old together with. To share my thoughts with.
For someone to share my exciting news with. For someone to open my soul to and will look upon it and feel the love and reciprocate.
It can’t be my kids, because they have their own journey in life and I want them to have that ultimate experience for themselves as well.
No, I’ve got to find my own way out of this darkness. I’m fumbling around, lost.
And it blows me away, this hollow empty feeling. This missed connection with another living soul…
I’m lonely.
It’s a black hole that threatens to suck me in until I disappear.
Don’t let that be you too. Open yourself to finding someone to share your adventures with. That someone to complete your sentences with. That someone who lights you from within. I get it now, my mother had the same wishes for me in my forties and I had dismissed it with a “ yeah, yeah…plenty of time for that.” She was a fortune teller who saw into the possible paths of my future. Only I dismissed her as a charlatan.
I want to burn again with life, with love, with purpose.
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”.
3:33
By Melissa Dowler
I don’t want to go elsewhere
Not with my body
No tin can rattling tarmac
Give the clocks back some hours in the
dazzle of difference
The weather the street signs the drink on the corner
Dressed for digestion
For documentation
A pink petal riot, plants wilt at my doorstep
Choked on our poison
The clock flashes 3, remembering me
I don’t want to go elsewhere
Not with my mind
No psychedelic dream wash
Crystalline rush stuck in some old story
Reminding me when to fully soak in
Butter crunch mystery
Sugar sweet disappearing
Fed from the bottle, tried so hard to suckle
A body too big, stretched out and unwilling
Wanting to save, that urge kept returning
Never enough to find that I care
The 3 on the dashboard reminds me I’m yearning
Keep seeking, it answered, and always be there
I don’t want to go elsewhere
Yet I hurtle through space,
head on a platter and no lesson left
Delivered unto myself time and again
It calls me away and each one I follow
It calls me away and each word it’s true
There’s a time to lie back to look up to ask questions
There’s a time to lie back and be birthed anew
I don’t want to go elsewhere but a voice gently pressing
The cold damp stone, the wine cellar walls
The roots of the trees whisper white static slumber
The bell chimes 3, and I slowly slide under
The bell chimes 3 and I am elsewhere
Melissa Dowler is a filmmaker, writer, and sound healer who creates in the shimmering space between truth and imagination.
Melissa is the co-owner of award-winning production company Long Haul Films, where she directs feature and short documentaries and collaborates with visionary companies and artists on breakthrough branded content. She is also the founder of Starla Frequency Sound Healing, and offers transformational sound healing journeys to support people in feeling more relaxed, aligned, and empowered.
Melissa lives and works in northeast Los Angeles where she enjoys practicing yoga, taking long walks with her two rescue pups, tending to her growing flock of backyard chickens, and writing poetry and prose. Learn more and connect at melissadowler.com, starlafrequency.com, and longhaulfilms.com
valley of lost children
By Joshua Dresser
san fernando, bedroom community
rows of bricks and stucco
blanched by the sun, pastel green
blue, pink
cars on lawns
empty faces, blank places
fat, tired, useless
my gut bloats from the punch
the heat
the goddamn heat
concrete blasts the exhaust back
at us, this stable of shit and broken legs
dreams flushed, hopes the stuff
of front porch legend
consumption
to fill the time, to kill the want
cars lined up like shining beetles
unaware of the boots waiting to
crush us
over the hill is freedom
but we’re caught in this tar pit
sucking at our designer shoes
streets, lights, strip malls
buy buy, finally die
through car windows with no AC
misery, regret, and stained seats
this place is drowning with land in sight
Joshua Dresser howled into this world in the year of Halloween. He went to university, wrote plays and short stories, and eventually allowed life to alter his plans indefinitely. He lives on the Autism spectrum, works as a technical writer, and enjoys logomachy.
He resides in Los Angeles.
A Gentle Companion
By Ronald G. Carrillo
Sweet man come unto me
I’ve been waiting for you all my life
Time to fulfill our truths without compromise
Look deep into my eyes know my secrets
There’ll be no lies between us
Solitary living and thriving on poetic passion
Giving my heart to a gentle companion
Single man lifestyle suits my solitary fashion and cares
But I still dream romance
Springtime street fairs and fireworks
With him in my mirror and shower
No longer able to cower alone
But ready to share the load of my journey
Eros speak to me and let me hear his voice
Waiting for someone in my own image
That it took me years to construct and develop
Through pain and hardship
Releasing trauma and healing myself
Learning lessons and gratitude
My path had many detours and steps backwards
Before I could move forward with authority
And find my soulmate and proper bookend
That Huckleberry everlasting friend
This gentle companion will come unto me like a cool August breeze
I will receive him like relief from loneliness
A rainbow union of two this birthday Summer
Senior man no longer in slumber
Hibernation blues now over
A full moon romance
Let me hear that spicy saxophone dance
Embrace me gentle companion
Behind that smooth jazz organ
Swoop in and I will accompany you to heaven
Senior man don’t make me wait another century
Decide and make your move
Not another decade will I be without you
I’m closing in to be your best friend
Wrap me up and take me home
Call me right now on the phone
Speak to me in the moonlight all alone
Take me to the fair and what a pair we will be
It is in our history to form this romantic alliance
Our own community in the air of love
No need to sign a pact
We are aligned in the stars
Not necessary to meet in Geneva
But a honeymoon in Spain
I won’t complain
Bring on the champagne
Nestle me and I will support you
Letting you be free
And I will continue to be fully me
Authentically gentle companion we will walk the line
Being each others Valentines
Coda: A gentle companionship is what I need
No longer able to read hard-core fantasies
I feed on love’s softer side now
But I still bleed for her deep romance
The sexual dance and love’s allure have a mature filter
Gentle companion hold me close
Warm my heart with your desire
Your senior touch is all the hearth fire that I need
Fill my Winter afternoon with charm and conversation
Holding hands and eyes that communicate sensation
Golden no more but still silver foxes
We continue to invest money into our accounts
I collect the honey of your manhood
Tea kettle on the stove
Our cats and chihuahuas in repose
This gentle companionship naps but doesn’t close
Lover brother inclusion is our freedom
Winter hibernation poetry reflection
Past the scars of youthful egos
Escaped the ravages of disease and addiction
The reality a haunting science fiction but love survives
In the wreckage of a genocidal scourge
Our tree rings widen in our earned seniority
Our companionship deepens fertilized in kindness
We ascend from our past to a new moon
The cloudy jigsaw sky of our early histories
Still a God’s eye of marvel and heavenly design
Time ages and tempers our desires like fine wine
No bitterness instead a sweet kiss of maturity
A mellow perfection with an edge of gentleness
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 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 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, 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 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!! 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
http://voyagela.com/interview/daily-inspiration-meet-linda-kaye/