- poet ascends from the steps – Harry Northup
- 10:52 Monday, May 16, 2011 – Roger Houston
- Goddess Venice – Liv Zutphen
- the garden – Jimmy Valentine
- Mother’s Day – Mary Getlein
- Little Hitlers – Jim Smith
- Krazy Rhymes – Hal Bogotch
poet ascends from the steps
(in memory of philomene long)
arms around, physical, the
four of us — friends for forty
years — on the steps of a church
bowl, clay, imperfect shining
not the empty space inside
the tea bowl, but the human
emptiness filled with love
for family, for god, for friends
& most important of all, love
remembrance the third
be a rememberer, tell stories
keep humility alive
in the darkness, amidst the
swinging incense, i saw her
figure, dressed in white, head
bowed, hands formed in prayer
the larger poet cooked a ham
for the four of us
the steps were across from a park
where my son & i had played
basketball, where he had slid
down a slide, climbed the monkey
bars, swung — we were all quiet
in santa monica, on 7th & california
we listened to the praises, celestial
as usual, the poet got more ink
on the obit page than she ever
got in the l.a. times book review
she stood in front of a wall
with her poem engraved on it
a massive heart attack caused
her death — 15 seconds of pain
she had written well of funerals
with real physical details finely
observed, yes, she was romantic
yes, she wrote with an expanding
spiritual sense, yes, she had long
black hair like a raven, yes, yes
9 1 07
Harry E. Northup
10:52 Monday, May 16, 2011, 3731 Topanga Canyon Road….. Awakened by the rush hour pressing past. Began to wonder how long it would last. Ejected here, to stretch our weary legs. Climbed back into the cockpit, as the cogs And wheels of the machinery spun round. Last night’s arrival hardly made a sound. Myself, I promised I would write these lines. Myself, I promised I would form designs, some imagery, some evidence I’d found, As we went wandering on the ancient mound. We narrowly escaped. Of men and dogs, We two noteworthy specimens put tags To let the neighborhood know that a guest Or two came here to visit, and were blessed….. Roger Houston and C.J.Whitefang, Esquire
By Liv Zutphen
Goddess Venice spinning third eye pacific wheel
St. John of the sunshine hooker
Warrior who dances with an amoral moon
Sunflower wrapped in seaweed
Getting stoned in the afternoon
Genius Venus shining shaman
Psychic star sand through my shoes
In the tension of expansion
Where the root of green is blue
By the boulevard by the ocean
I am with you
like the gravity between me and the sea, the energy of what connects you to we.
pulling the grassrootz deeper, yielding fields of dreams n greenery.
thriving the seeds of our family trees, all limbs and leaves.
treating our lungs to the sweet gift supreme, the kine air we breathe,
ability to walk talk and eat. everything alive gives and receives.
weather be, positive or negatory. such beautiful stories.
connecting this whole world, this earth, intrinsically, by the first degree.
from pluscious sighs of the palm trees so balmy.
paradise at the offshore breeze that calms me.
from the hottest magma core to the icy top o the cobalt sky,
simply all the true blessings this earth provides.
i n i give thanks and praise on the most i.
for this peace of Eden, our heaven. Bless you and YeSi.
By Mary Getlein
the women are coming out from the shadows
they’re coming to take back their land
they’re coming to take back the weapons of mass destruction
they’re coming to take back the war machine
they’re coming to save their babies
they’re coming to remind us all of what this planet is worth
that you can’t keep on piling up nuclear disasters,
horrible wars, depleted uranium:
sci-fi endings to an ordinary day.
that we need to have clean air, clean water, clean food
not air, land and water sprinkled with nuclear “dust”
we don’t want acid rain hitting the head of any child,
much less our own.
we have to pledge allegiance to ourselves, not
some crazy nation bent on destruction.
it’s overkill times 4 billion years.
can we survive?
not at the hands of the military industrial complex.
any woman who has ever given birth feels
differently from then on.
you feel a kinship with all the other mothers on the planet.
all the other mothers and all the little babies.
how would you feel if your baby came out of
your womb horribly deformed by nuclear dust?
the women are coming out from the shadows.
and they are MAD.
By Jim Smith
Little Hitlers in the garden.
Little Hitlers in the kitchen.
Little Hitlers at the dinner table.
Little Hitlers in the classroom.
Little Hitlers in the Black and Whites.
Little Hitlers at the bank.
Little Hitlers in the church.
Little Hitlers in the government.
Little Hitlers on the job.
Little Hitlers everywhere I go.
Little Hitlers listening, watching.
Little Hitlers full of hate.
Little Hitlers fighting other Little Hitlers.
Little Hitlers off to war.
Little Hitlers in my brain
Scattershot ping-pong drip-dry hoop
military monetary nincompoop
abracadabra upsilon zebra quill
rumpelstiltskin pumpernickel whippoorwill
doodle bop doodlebug somersault slop
hiccup astronaut flimflam flop
punxsutawney cotton candy flugelhorn feign
upside-down cake cumberbund ichabod crane
myopic stetson zimbabwe track
early bird mugwort slipshod slack
mo’ watusi I love lucy hummingbird stomp
puddle jumper pedal pusher wigwam whomp.
– Hal Bogotch