10 poets who read from SGVPQ 54

Charles Harmon

Political Haiku

ANGEL OR DEVIL

Right wing or Left wing?
Which shoulder arms will prevail?
The one that gets Fed….
 
GORDIAN KNOT
What tangled webs we weave.
Governmental gridlock…
How cut loose our noose?
 
QUIS CUSTODIET IPSOS QUISLING?
Our keepers proclaim
Vegetarianism;
Practice vampirism.
 
SI VIS PACEM PARABELLUM
When the gloves come off,
Hands untied from behind backs,
Curtains pulled aside….
 
FIVE MILLION LAWS
From Ten Commandments
To five million lawyers
Made us all criminals….
 
THE YOKE IS ON YOU
Thought you were born free?
Lower your head, bend over,
Submit to harness.
 
PARASITISM
The more the starving victim
Works and eats, the more
Tapeworm engorges….
 
PRIVILEGE
Created equal
The high and mighty
More equal than I and Thou.

Thelma Reyna

Early Morning

 
She wasn’t supposed to die across the
sunbeams, flowered night-
gown twisted around crumpled knees, eyes
widely unaware and questioning.
 
She wasn’t supposed to die while
her coffeepot called, and toast rose
with a gentle click as she
cajoled and roused sleeping children.
 
She wasn’t supposed to die while
she sang to the tiny terrier licking her ankles,
and her husband ambled to her for their
morning kiss, white coffee mug ready for his brew.
 
She wasn’t supposed to die like this,
arms around his neck, lips pressed to his ear,
warm breath gearing up for morning talk,
her head tilting back to tell him something monumental.
 
But she died a lightning death, her
big heart failing, her body falling in an instant to
the sunlit floor, her mouth a circle of pain, her hands
clutching her breast as her children walked in.
 
No guarantees. There are no guarantees in life, we’ve
been told and retold. Grab love, fight loss, find
joy, hang on, believe, and tell yourself again and again
and again that this day, this day, is irretrievable.

Lalo Kikiriki

O city birds! (a toast)

yesterday I saw a woodpecker
stick his bill into
a perforated metal
signpost...
what was he expecting
to extract? (I wonder)

hummingbirds are fooled
by glassy chambers of
scarlet sugar water
and yellow plastic blossoms
thinking they're
contemplating nectar (I suppose)

the mockingbird on my chimney
deludes himself
imagining he's working
the graveyard shift at KJAZZ
up all night
improvising (I can dig it!)
and English sparrows
those sly emigres
have learned to invade any eaves
with ease
feasting on crumbs of scones
and madeleines
under the tables at Starbuck's

pink finches at feeders
phoebes zigging
after termites in the lower air
hawks and crows at war
up in the cedars
seagulls bobbing
upon the reservoir –
here's to you all!
all you city birds!
nesting rent-free
in Paradise

Joe Gardner

Troubadour
 
I like the feel of night time grass
brushing beneath my feet
sneaking between my toes…
            We reminded each other of Hollywood 1989
At the Troubadour
underage
I swung on the lead singer
            I was lucky to get out alive
I never had felt so alive
as I did on the ride back
in the back
of Pat’s pickup
                        You snuggled close to me
                        I spread my leather like a blanket
                        over us
As we hurtled back to Lakewood

Lori Wall-Holloway

Zoe’s Dance

When Papa plays his music

on a long black stick
he calls his clarinet,
I want to move.
I grab a soft red and green
scarf with flowers
on it and begin to spin.
 
When Papa’s music goes fast,
I run.
When Papa’s music gets loud,
I leap.
When Papa’s music is happy,
I skip around the room.
 
I like it when the scarf
flies behind my back.
It makes me think I am with angels
who fly to the tops of the trees
and dance on mountaintops.
 
When Papa’s music goes slow, 
I twirl.
When Papa’s music gets soft,
I dip the scarf.
When Papa’s music is beautiful,
I hold the scarf high to the sky.
 
I like it when the scarf
falls around my arm.
It makes me think I am a ballerina
who performs a pretty show for a king.
 
My steps go along with the song,
and I don’t want Papa to stop.
I feel God looking down
on me and likes what I’m doing.
So I will twirl and dance
beautifully for Him.

Gerda Govine Ituarte

Storm

Mother nature in pain throws new red shiny stiletto heels across the sky.

Smacks Santa Ana’s face--eyes blackened, mouth swells, sneezes, coughs.
Upchucks frosty fast-moving wind. Howl loud and long. Cause sleepless nights.
Uprooted age old trees drop like matchsticks. Electric lines snap, spin spread
darkness. Red-eyed candle light welcome morning. Santa Ana whistles spot
mother waiting, arms folded. She beckons whispers enough!

Barbara Cogswell
 
At A Time Like This
 
let me make it clear;
my preference is silence
 
stifle the surreptitious hisses
the subliminal throb of machines
 
tap out no machine gun drum roll
or lock step cadence
 
clank no bayonets
let no rifle rip the air
 
for God’s sake
still the pipes pitched wheeze
 
and please;
no speeches

CaLokie

How To Get To Erewhon

I can’t recall the mana elder who told Steve Dalenchinsky 

where he could find eternity but I do know it was 
a Honky Tonk Angel who showed Bukowski 
how to get to Sesame Street 
 
I’m not sure why you must Take The A Train
Anyway when you see sign saying ROAD NARROWS
You’ve reached Broadway
Give your regards to it 
Have them remember you at old Times Square
Then follow dancing feet 
to 42nd Street
 
At High Noon 
turn left at sign which says NO LEFT TURN
Sit on LOADING curb of burlesque theater 
closed by labor dispute
Share communal joint with striking strippers 
 
Ignore DETOUR warning
Walk straight ahead on winding path
When you come to narrow highway paved with yellow bricks 
followOfollowOfollowOfollow
till you get to Kansas
 
Travel ON THE ROAD with Jack Kerouac 
to Somewhere Over A Rainbow
Rescue Big Bird from blonde witch-doctor
wanting to pray away the gay
 
Hitchhike sleigh ride to North Pole
On breakaway Greenland glacier
meet with John the Revelator 
Ask him before discussing world’s end
would he first 
show you the corners of Earth upon which
he saw four angels standing
 
Tell Scotty you’ve seen enough
Ask him to beam you up

David Bortin

Keep Your Mitts Off the White House

Shall I compare thee to a president?

Republican, from back when that was good.
“Of, by and for the people” government
Must never perish, Lincoln understood.
 
While you proclaim your business acumen,
“Of, by and for the owners” is your creed.
We all know that’s how businesses are run--
The opposite of good governments’ need.
 
But when you tried (and yes, I think you tried)
To govern “for the people” of your state,
Your heart and soul were never on our side;
To ownership was all you could relate.
 
Your efforts lost the right, your deeds the left.
You’ll pay to spin a program so bereft.

Petrouchka Alexieva

Don’t Clean the Dust

Don’t clean the dust.

Don’t worry.
Tomorrow will be the same.
Today is a beautiful day,
Just go out with a friend.
Don’t clean the dust.
It will cover the furniture well;
It will cover the rust,
Few scratches, and the broken lacquer.
This way, nobody will notice, my friend.
Don’t clean the dust
From the mirror.
It will help to hide what you’ve got:
Few wrinkles, few spots on your face
and the traits of unpleasant events.
So, what?

Don’t waste your time.
Invite a friend in a rainy day;
Have some cookie and tea;
Sing a song or scream.
Don’t let others to live your dreams
Somewhere there, out there.
Don’t clean the dust.
If you cannot draw in the mirror
A big happy face;
If you cannot write in the lacquer
“I LOVE YOU, my friend!”
Then…what is the meaning of cleaning?

32 poets being published in SGVPQ 54

ERIKA T. ALCALDE
PETROUCHKA ALEXIEVA
MARIA ARANA
JIM BABWE
DAVID BORTIN
JACK G. BOWMAN
CALOKIE
DON KINGFISHER CAMPBELL
MICHAEL J. CLUFF
BARBARA COGSWELL
JOE GARDNER
THOM GARZONE
HELEN GRAZIANO
CHARLES HARMON
LINDA MARIE HILTON
ANITA HOLZBERG
GERDA GOVINE ITUARTE
JEFFRY JENSEN
LALO KIKIRIKI
MARIE LECRIVAIN
ELLARAINE LOCKIE
REYNALD ROMEA LUMINARIAS
KARINEH MAHDESSIAN
MICHAEL McLAUGHLIN
RUTH NOLAN
THELMA REYNA
RINA ROSE
NANCY SHIFFRIN
TIM TIPTON
JANINE TRUDELL
LORI WALL-HOLLOWAY
DENISE WALSH