Linda and Ed and friends Trash Talking at Artapalooza this past Saturday, April 22. Good times!
POETS PLACE
April 2023
Spring!!! Winds are blowing. Weeds are tumbling. Ex presidents getting their due justice. What could be better!! “A light exists in Spring” writes Emily Dickinson. A light in our step, and hopefully a light at the end of the tunnel. For some it’s a time to celebrate a renewal of respect for the people who seek the betterment of our society. It’s hard to know who is on that journey. But if we open our eyes and look into each others heart, we can get a taste of their intentions. POETS PLACE, serves our community and is a gift that will host authors who want to share their prose. A platform to open their hearts and often bare their souls. Everyone is welcome to submit their work. And the beauty is your work is published. Wow! Imagine that. No scrutiny or judgement. What a concept!! I feel blessed to be in this chair. Let your peers know that this place exists!! Give a shout out!!!
Love, Linda XXOO
Twas a bittersweet last hurrah
By Linda Kaye
As she laid there pondering that last time thinking of how to escape to leave behind the last remnants of lust making
still drunk with remorse
sadness and disappointment crept over her brow
the heat disappearing as quickly as it started
filtering out the remaining annoyances that were once possibilities turned odorous needing a wash
A freshness no longer evident smelled rank, losing its lustful fragrance down the drain of disgust
Innocently started one Christmas eve night which lasted until sunset with power packed delight
the lights were ignited by dawns early light
was measured in kisses, sweet wishes, pure lust seconds from dusk
What started down below fizzled from head to toe when the fog in the windows cleared and reality reappeared a clearer perspective shined through and stifled the ongoing ride
Tinker Bells and fairytales can carry one so far
smooth talking not enough to kindle a waning flame
Takes romantic spells sweet delicious smells and baskets of abundant treats
secret trips to the hottest spots
will undoubtedly fuel the fire
And whilst stoking the flame of genuine desire creates explosions of passion,
Reality ultimately sets in and puts out the fire
I DON'T BELONG
12:26a.m.
3-26-23
By Mary Cheung
I didn't like how it made me feel.
The strangeness of not quite fitting in.
Being left out in the cold.
Stranded like an island.
I'm a jigsaw puzzle.
A strange piece that didn't fit in with the rest.
kept trying to jam myself in.
Didn't work, maybe it was for the best.
Everyone else had their own agendas.
And none of it fitted with mine.
They were all dancing to a different tune.
That left me deaf, dumb and blind.
I just didn't belong
We were a completely different tribe.
Kept banging my head against the wall.
Trying to do what was right,
Only it was all wrong.
Was just setting myself up for a fall.
So I got hurt and I felt the pain.
Because you could only live in the moment.
Not plan and schedule.
Although I had hoped in vain.
And you gave me hope with your drug and alcohol fueled promises.
That evaporated into the air.
As the words rolled off your tongue.
It did more harm than good, like you didn't even care.
So I'm left disappointed for having believed.
And for putting my efforts into cultivating
A relationship with you.
I'm disappointed for having let myself believe.
For allowing myself to be led down,
A path that dissolved beneath the both of us.
And everyone else seemed to be fine
with the rules that they made up.
Like the lights that changed and pulsated
In time with the music and stuff.
Everyone was fine with the flighty nature of their nature.
Everyone was fine with their short attention spans.
Everyone was fine with the ridiculous moronic juvenile tastes...but me
I didn't belong.
And everything that made me feel wrong.
Only showed me,
It was time to go in search of my own tribe...
Just so I can belong.
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”.
P-22
By Terrence Butcher
Like many Generation X kids, I spent Sunday evenings in the 1970s glued to the set, watching The Wonderful World of Disney, and I fondly recall TV specials like Return of The Big Cat or Run, Appaloosa, Run, in which pumas were depicted as malicious assassins, eager to pounce on any creature they stumbled across - man included - not just for sustenance, but seemingly, even just for sport. Disney redeemed themselves somewhat with the sweetly optimistic CHARLIE, THE LONESOME COUGAR, the tale of a semi-feral puma who's virtually a pet, but typically, Hollywood at large trained us to fear the second largest wild cat in the Americas, and they did this job exceedingly well.
Yet, statistically, pumas overwhelmingly avoid encounters with humankind, and for most of his life, P-22 was no exception. Some years back, in a nocturnal wildlife lecture at USC, I viewed hidden camera footage of him in his sprawling urban 'hood of Griffith Park. P-22 stood by a well-worn trail, peering into the nighttime gloom. A scant few minutes later, a hiker strode by that same spot, but P-22 was nowhere to be seen. He had vanished quietly into the darkness, ever elusive, protecting himself, and however unwittingly, also keeping us safe.
This situation changed irrevocably shortly before his death, when he approached a pedestrian in a hilly enclave north of Hollywood and snatched that man's beloved on-leash Chihuahua. Subsequently, our most renowned resident mountain lion was captured, and suffering various health issues, including injury from a possible auto collision, he was put down. I regret P-22's woeful condition, but I don't necessarily lament the decision of local authorities to terminate his life. He would only have grown more desperate, and such a scenario might not have ended well for him or us. And confinement to a zoo would likely have been a miserable experience for this wide-ranging cat. Ultimately, P-22 had the misfortune to inhabit one of the most populous metropolitan regions on the planet.
But we should champion his success at doing so for so many years. P-22 was a living remnant of the ancient, pre-development Los Angeles, a contemporary avatar of the rich landscape of megafauna we celebrate whenever we visit the George C. Page Museum and its bubbling tar pits on our city's now-congested Westside. Puma...cougar...mountain lion...panther...even catamount, his species is known by a colorful assortment of names, and P-22 was its local ambassador.
Terrence Butcher is a freelance writer, tour guide, and film programmer currently living in Pasadena. He has written previously for The Pasadena Weekly and Popmatters.com.
Triple
By daniel j. Schack
There are 3 types of people in the world. If someone is crazy but not an asshole.that is o.k. if a person is an asshole but is not crazy.that is o.k. but no one can deal with a crazy asshole.
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.
tidy
By Devin Murphy
Cleaning the names of dead friends from my phone
Wondering which ones died alone
I was meaning to call you last time I was home
But easy the evenings go
I guess that’s how old stories die
Shared aspects of our past lives
Not apt to recast the last times we tried
Blasted on wine
I remember fragments of life you
helped me align
Better now, the time flies
Would we have talked about where we’ve been
since we stopped talking again?
Neither how nor why
Now that I’m dry?
I keep my reasons we stopped speaking
Mine
But
If I delete your name from my address book
How many days
til I forget how you looked?
I assess the damage we did to our memories
And lovingly
I delete your name as our last act of entropy
Maybe that’s that
It’s a wrap
I’ll have more dead friends later
trapped in data to scrap
And should this be how modern worlds collapse,
at least
You and me,
beneath the streets
15 years back,
We
had dreams
we spilled on concrete
We
had trains to catch
Devin Murphy is a poet and producer living in Puna, Hawai'i. Having recently produced work in narrative film, theater, and esports, Devin is currently advocating against the expansion of the police state in America during a time of rising fascism. Please google LASD Gangs, Stop Cop City, and check out Blackshirts and Reds by Michael Parenti from your local library.
BECAUSE I SAY I LOVE YOU
By: IECarlo
7 January 2023
Because I say I love you, doesn’t mean I love you for me It means I love you for you
Because I say I love you does not mean I want to own you It means I like you as person
The love is a byproduct an outgrowth of that like
It does not mean I want to dominate you
It means I enjoy you, your person
For you bring reason, and I love that in a person Reason and purpose is what I observe in a person To which I love freely
In this of life
Life is love
So I give and say I love you
Without prejudice
I give love because I love me
And my need is to love freely
And you happen to be present
So here take what I give as that of a person who considers You enough to give you love
Nor do I want to manipulate or gaslight you
For I bring joy, and happiness is my motto in life
You are an extension of that joy for life
And I feel and thank you for being a part of it
Of the many who have entered my life you remain
That special muse being I write in prose of that poetry of many
You of all the muse’s I’ve had stand in favor of my love
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
She Said Me too
By Ronald G. Carrillo
No one heard her
But they all listened
No one believed her
But they knew it was true
She suffered alone
The masses watched her on the news
She was unknown
He was a celebrity
She spoke her truth
He paid for elitist justice
She was one of many
He was a serial abuser of power
Coda: Is the glass half full or half empty
Is the world dying or healing itself
Are we crossing a Rubicon or forging a new paradigm
Are we building walls to keep diversity out
Or giving free rein to false oath keepers and proud boys
Will we fully embrace the potential of our constitution
Or will it remain only high minded words on paper
She said me too
I can’t breath
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/