Sun, photo by Margaret Saine, 1 January 2024
awaking to theNew Year’s first sun, portent of
many suns to come
Margaret Saine
On 1 January 2024, the first day of the last year of her life, Margaret Saine posted this haiku and the photo of the sun on her Facebook page. California State Poetry Society will always miss Margaret (Ute Margaret Saine, Ph.D.), an extraordinary poet, photographer, translator, poetry activist, expert in literature and the arts. Margaret Saine was born in postwar Germany and wrote her first poem at the age of eight. After immigrating to the U.S., she received her Ph.D. in French and Spanish from Yale University. She taught French and Hispanic literatures at Chapman University in California. She also taught languages and cultural studies in Arizona, as well as wrote and translated poetry in five languages (German, English, French, Spanish and Italian).
Margaret Saine
Until 1990, she only wrote poems in her native German. Bodyscapes published by Pacific Writers Press in 1995 was her first English language poetry collection, positively reviewed in the Los Angeles Times. With poets Julian Palley and Florinda Mintz she was a co-founder of PEN Orange County and served as its president. Since 1991 to 2021, she served as a board member and Secretary of the CSPS while she was a CQ editor since 1994. She also edited the CSPS Poetry Letter, initially added to CQ mailings, and later posted on the CSPS website. Saine served twice as the CQ Annual Contest Chair. Her contributions to our society have been manifold and profound—she added lots of translations and new poets to the CQ, making it an international journal, helped John F. Harrell (then President) stuff and mail envelopes, and for ten years, until June 2019, she gathered all submissions from the Orange P.O. Box, distributing them to the editors and contest judges. She left an indelible mark on the CSPS!
Her poems and transations appeared in many journals here and abroad. She published five books of poetry in English – Bodyscapes, Words of Art, Lit Angels, Gardens of the World and A Book of Travel, as well as six haiku chapbooks in five languages. Four books of poems and a postwar childhood memoir were published in Germany – Das Flüchtige bleibt (The Ephemeral Remains); Das Weite suchen (A Yen to Travel); Atem der Stille (The Breath of Silence); Ein Lied davon (Same Old Song); and Ungeschicktes Kind (Awkward Child). Searching for Bridges is a bilingual English-Arabic book of her poems edited by Palestinian poet and critic Nizar Sartawi. Saine’s volume of poems in Italian was published in 2020. Since 2008, she wrote over five thousand haiku and is also known for her artistic photographs, posted on her Facebook page and used as illustrations in her poetry. I had a distinct pleasure of working with her on publishing two of her books - Lit Angels and Gardens of the Earth, issued by Moonrise Press. Her poems and translations appeared in many anthologies and journals including lifeandlegends.com, fekt.org, verseville.org, stagebuzz.in, www.setumag.com, thepotomacjournal.com, and prachyareview.com, to mention a few.

Reflections in Blue, posted on 22 February 2024, photo by Margaret Saine
After Margaret Saine’s death, many poets posted tributes on her Facebook page. Katarzyna Sala wrote “Dear Ute Margaret Saine, Thank you for being there, thank you for your inspiration, your translations, your corrections and your support for our literary projects. I will never forget the hours of waiting for the train from Rabat to Marrakesh, in the crowded station, among the people hurrying back and forth. There in the corner, leaning against the monumental pillars: Ute Margaret Saine and Mauricio Gomes, bent over the pages of the poetry books, reading and translating each other's poems. Let's talk more, one day, in the other world. Rest in peace.”
As a farewell to Margaret let me quote one of her brief poems posted with a typical, blurry and impressionistic photograph of raindrops.
.In exactly how many words
can you say it, asks Okham
we poets don’t count the words
unless we write in verse
we poets walk around rhyme
like a cat around hot porridge
and we wander all over creation
like clouds, wondering if
the wind will transform us
into rain
Margaret Saine, August 13, 2021
~ Maja Trochimczyk, CSPS President

MARGARET SAINE'S POEMS FROM LIT ANGELS (2017)
Published in February 2017, Margaret Saine's Lit Angels (=Literature Angels ~ Angels of Light) is a collection of poetry inspired by literature and the arts. Written in English, the volume includes several translations into German, Arabic, French and Italian. Poet Mani Suri considers this book as an "elegant, wise, and worldly oeuvre, a distilled reflection of her sagesse and sophistication." Poet Virginia Jasmin Pasalo observes that "like her photography, Saine’s poems breathe movement, shadow and light that immediately transport the reader to the experience of moving within the social fabric of her woven words." The book presents over 70 poems and is illustrated with 14 photographs by the poet.
Rita Stanzione, from Salerno, Italy, wrote, “The poetics of Margaret Saine is a pleasant flight, ranging back and forth between signifiers and the signified, judiciously exploring art and nature. Each element is endowed with meaning, connecting it with human presence and human feeling. Under the poet’s gaze, a movement in time occurs that returns it to us, it tells us of other voices who are leaving traces in personal and universal history. An interesting, marvelous exchange occurs between the forms of being and their most profound abode, like a window to the sun, opening and smiling at us.”
the minuscule stippled leaves
Trunk reaches down to roots
where the atoms come from
Hold your body like a reed
~ Margaret Saine
Photo by Margaret Saine
Lands thought safe and secure
have drifted and absconded
We are stories of sentiment
with occasional bits of truth
A sediment pierced by sunrays
into a new day a second look
I want to be your deep down under
Your Calypso promise darling
on the daring side of love
~ Margaret Saine
Photo by Margaret Saine
WRITING ON WATER
Rêvant de cette société/où tous auront loisir
d’écrire. Dreaming of a society/where all
would have the leisure to write. ~ Guillevic
After I beat the ink to pieces
on the tablet
I drop the bits like letters
on the watery sheet
one by one
I write myself on water
spread myself thin on the surface
see bleeding shadows descend
waving and wafting
deep into the water world
Becoming algae and fish
the creatures of water
released from my mind
set out on a new life
a watery freedom
a run of their own
mending the tear in the fabric
forming of my words
underwater gardens
tribute to becoming again
a part of nature
POEMS FROM GARDENS OF THE EARTH – ACCORDING TO NATURE (2018)
PLANTEN UN BLOMEN
A rose is a rose is a rose
says Gertrude
perhaps not without defiance
I'm pretty sure she meant
a rose is a woman is a woman
The Roses and the Hyacinths
the Jasmins, Irises and Heathers
the Violets and Daisies
Lilies and Lilians
and dozens more Floras all
Once in the South I met a woman
named Lila
Plants, flowers
all meant to serve
green leaves in passing
with names like eyebright
meadowsweet always helping
the proud and the meek
--Call me Hortensia!
Plants, how could we do
how could we be without you?
[Without you, how would I know?]
We are each other’s breath
I prefer to be surrounded
by your colorful silence
and so do the fuchsia fox
the bumblebee, whippoorwill
the sheep in the meadow sleeping
and the black crow cackling up a tree
P. S. Planten un Blomen, meaning Plants and Flowers in Low or Platt German, is a famous Hamburg park.
CACTUS
On this lonely cactus
hope is a flower
the shock of a beauty
unforeseen
Beauty that makes
the heart skip a beat:
a leap of faith
into the world
2007 Fall Flight Salerno, photo by Margaret Saine
AFTER THE MONSOON
3after the monsoon
light at sunrise is reborn
drops down outside the window
to shine like stars
the atoms of the universe
in green expansion
subtle shades of pink
sparsely sown
embroidered onto the world
before my eyes
like an apparition
for seconds
tiny birds
drink the drops
the foliage trembles slightly
das Blattwerk zittert leicht
and shakes itself off
drops appear
in a prism of light
the humble photo captures
difracts
the beauty of the universe
the ineffable tenderness
of a fragile moment:
our entrance into matter
~ Margaret Saine, Irvine, CA
Window, Photo by Margaret Saine
FEATURED POET MARLENE HITT (1936-2024)
Marlene Hitt was a Los Angeles poet, writer and retired educator with local history as an avocation. She served for many years as Archivist, Museum Director and Historian at the Bolton Hall Museum in Tujunga. She was a native Californian and a graduate of Occidental College. She also studied at CSUN, USC, UCLA, Glendale College and Trinity College, Ireland. As a member of the Chupa Rosa Writers of Sunland for nearly 30 years, she worked with this small group of poets from whom has sprung readings at the local library, the Poet Laureate Program of Sunland-Tujunga, and the currently popular Village Poets.
Marlene Hitt, Photo by M.T.
Her poetry received several first place prizes in annual competitions of the Women’s Club, San Fernando Valley, and many awards from the John Steven McGroarty Chapter of the California Chaparral Poets. Her work appeared in Psychopoetica (UK), Chupa Rosa Diaries of the Chupa Rosa Writers, Sunland (2001-2003), Glendale College’s Eclipse anthologies, two Moonrise Press anthologies, Chopin with Cherries (2010) and Meditations on Divine Names (2012), and Sometimes in the Open, a collection of verse by California Poets Laureate. She published Sad with Cinnamon, Mint Leaves, and Bent Grass (all in 2001), as well as Riddle in the Rain with Dorothy Skiles, and a stack of other chapbooks for friends and family.
Ms. Hitt, elected Woman of Achievement for year 2001, served as Poet Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga in 1999-2001, at the turn of the century. She published several books on local history, including
Sunland-Tujunga from Village to City (Arcadia, 2000, 2005) based on columns written for the
Foothill Leader, Glendale News Press, North Valley Reporter, Sentinel, and Voice of the Village newspapers since 1998. Over the years, she taught in elementary school, worked in a pharmacy, chaired committees, tap-danced, and played English han-dbells, autoharp and ukulele. She dedicated her successes to her husband, Lloyd, her children and grandchildren, her biggest fans. You can find out more about her in a wonderful interview with Kath Abela Wilson on ColoradoBoulevard.net:
http://coloradoboulevard.net/mapping-the-artist-marlene-hitt/
POEMS FROM CLOCKS AND WATER DROPS
ISBN 978-0-9819693-5-0, April 2015
Clocks and Water Drops is the first full-length collection of poetry by Marlene Hitt, the first Poet Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga, a former Director at the Bolton Hall Museum, a local historian, poet, and community activist. The book of reflections about her life, family and neighborhood changing through the decades, includes 73 poems in sections dedicated to: Children, Marriages, Portraits, Neighbors, Seasons, Small Things, Passages, and Farewells. The title captures the poet’s fascination with the flow of time, as relentless and powerful as drops of water that can shape rocks and move mountains. Poet Jack Cooper praises Hitt’s “astute and thoughtful voice” while Kath Abela Wilson admires her “confident and consistent phrasing, and exacting vision.”
TREASURE
Here it is once again, way back in the closet,
the box of treasures collected by children.
Feathers, one huge and black from a crow,
one tiny from Felicia the finch.
And stones:
My mother’s rock from the quarry
that inspired a song “Rock of Ages,”
New Zealand jade, a rounded pebble
from the Dead Sea.
This is where my penny went,
the one I wore in my shoe at our wedding
and the cigar, still wrapped,
from when our son was born.
Keys, shaped for castle doors, for valises,
for piggy banks and diaries. Keys lost,
found far too late for any locks.
I remember the dandelions blown in the wind
and this one glued to a paper plate, imprisoned,
never to blossom and this Saskatchewan wheat
pulled up by Uncle Alf when he stopped the truck
to find a souvenir that last evening.
And this one magnificent marble!
What is not a treasure?
What can be tossed away?
Wings, photo by Margaret Saine
LOVE MENDED
That old threadbare word – love
flows in a fabric patterned
with shades of crimson colors,
whispers of mauve and the yellow of dry sun.
Chopin wove love into the air,
Monet stroked it onto canvas.
That word so often patched
nearly falls apart, its meaning frayed –
until a newborn cries
or a daughter becomes a bride,
until the lace of fifty years together
fully knits. Love unravels
until a friend perceives and cherishes,
until there is an ear ready to listen,
a shoulder to cry on. Love is repaired
with the consecration of all the threads.
Then, there is delight in love’s stitching,
the worn word renewed
into the One Love.
Mended.
MOTHER’S DAY
Mint leaves from her garden,
baby carrots, snap peas,
red-ripe tomatoes and apricots...
As with paint pots before canvas
and her hands the brushes,
she arranges the color of the meal.
Monet’s gardens stay for centuries,
hers are devoured in an hour,
live only in memory. Meals:
potatoes sprinkled with parsley,
lamb with Asian pear and kiwi salsa,
chipotle glazed apples,
chicken orecchiette soup
with lemon grass and cilantro,
vanilla bean soufflés,
flour pudding, corn pones
with butter and syrup.
Her hands fashion
bok choy cooked crisp-tender,
haggis and ale, oatcakes and mutton.
A treat of strawberry ice cream,
grilled cheese, chocolate milk.
Mother.
Warm bread, the morning’s cream,
corn cob jelly, French toast.
Acorn mush, piki, and a sprig of sage.
The maker of fine art.
My mother.
POEMS FROM YELLOW TREE ALONE (2022)
Marlene Hitt's second full-size poetry volume, that includes 129 poems written between 1998 and 2022. These poems bring together the fruit of a lifetime of wisdom and creativity. Some poems are reprinted from earlier publications; the poet's favorites have appeared in print several times. Others are either new or have never been published. The poems were selected by Marlene Hitt, Alice Pero and Maja Trochimczyk from Marlene's vast output of well-crafted and insightful verse.
https://moonrisepress.com/hitt---yellow-tree-alone.html#/
I WONDER
I wonder what joy is
And where is death.
I wonder about the newborn babe
And its one and only breath.
I wonder where love goes
When it steals away,
And the place where the years go
Day by day.
RIPPLES
In my room I smell a cigar though no one smokes;
outside, ripples cover a still, clear pond
I know something makes those creaks
and passes beside my face, just out of sight.
That is the way of ghosts ― a presence gone
from the water, from the room, my dad
smoking his cigar somewhere. Not here.
Phoro by Maja T.
with the sound of a breeze
WHAT COULD YOU DO WITH A BUBBLE?
A child could see a rainbow in it,
Hunting, free to breathe,
While old men sit still to
A scientist could measure it,
What could I do with a bubble?

FEATURED POET JOE DECENZO
JOE DECENZO grew up in Los Angeles and majored in theater and English Literature. From 2004-06 he served as the third poet laureate of Sunland-Tujunga. He produced the Shouting Coyote performing arts festival and was a Department of Cultural Affairs grant recipient. His published works include The Ballad of Alley and Hawk and the Study Guide and Poetry Primer. His poems also appeared in Meditations on Divine Names anthology (2012), and on Village Poets blog. Joe currently serves on the planning committee for the Village Poets of Sunland-Tujunga and as Chair of Poet Laureate Search Committee. In addition to his volunteer work for Village Poets, Joe DeCenzo was involved in developing or creating: 2002 Shouting Coyote Poetry Festival, 2004 Shouting Coyote Performing Arts Festival, 2005 Mother's Day Brunch at Bolton Hall, and 2006 Commerce Ave Fair/Shouting Coyote Poetry Slam. In 2022, Joe was one of 12 poets whose verse was featured in the Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom anthology edited by Maja Trochimczyk and published by Moonrise Press. In 2024, his poem received a Honorary Mention in the 37th CSPS Annual Poetry Contest.
Small cloud of rosin dust
Around the battered wooden box
Rises beauty from hellish pain
A half-used roll of KT tape
Contains the inflamed hamstring
Cracking calluses, the only shield
From 5:00 am until the school bell rings
Aching, soreness, spasms, cramps
Tedium at the barre building
Strength, alignment, balance, beauty
Body dysmorphia, eating disorders
Keep your fingers from your throat
To reach the height of grace?
The x-rays say you’re ready
Determination leads the charge
In satin covered toe shoes
The added line from hip to toe
For the Black Swan pas de deux
~ Joe DeCenzo
Mountains, 23 May 2023, Photo by Margaret Saine
FEATURED POET RICHARD M. DEETS
RICHARD M. DEETS
After a career as a mathematics teacher, Richard Deets became the Vice President, Membership of the CSPS in the fall of 2012. He also served on the Board of Directors of the Livermore Valley Opera and the City of Dublin’s Heritage and Cultural Arts Commission. His poems have appeared online in a variety of milieus. Richard’s published articles on poetry include The Elements of Poetry online at FamilyFriendPoems.com. One of his poems published on the same site became a wedding favourite, as he stated, “I wrote the poem, ‘Our Dreams,’ as a Valentine gift for my wife. Since that time, over a hundred brides have requested permission to include the poem in their wedding ceremonies. My wife has given me permission to say yes to every bride.”
WE SAILED ON WITH HAPPY HEARTS
The Harbor wind's song played on in our hearts
As we bobbed in our baby dinghy in the blue bay.
All morning long we sailed on with happy hearts.
Sporadic clouds peeled shadows off dockhand carts:
We thrilled in trills of gulls and terns above the bay.
The harbor wind's song played on in our hearts.
We were skippers of our dinghy, sporting our parts.
Tack port! No, starboard! Buoy, port side bow! Oy vey!
All sea sun long we sailed on with happy hearts.
Cool breezes blew our dinghy to coves across the charts;
We sifted winded sails, sipped wine all winsome day.
The harbor wind's song played on in our hearts.
The sun tumbled: we tacked for clubs past marts
And feasted on mariners' tales of a bygone day.
All evening long we sailed on with happy hearts.
We revelled in rhythmic peals of mast slapping halyards
And lapping ripples mooring mirrored lights in the bay.
The harbor wind's song played on in our hearts;
All misted moon long we sailed on with happy hearts.
~ Richard M. Deets
Spring springs, seedlings struggle seeking
Blossoms, hearts enchained in frozen soil
From long-mooned January snow storms.
Assured of their entry on life's stage
As if from some distant memory,
They are disdainful of hesitancies.
Enveloped within fragile blue rhapsodies
Of heavenly petals, they fear
Nothing, blissful at their core.
Perfumed goddesses, beautiful ones,
Unfurling petals in morning sunlight,
Clutching life abound, spirits shining,
Theirs is that once more vindicated faith
That fragile life fearlessly unfolds
Each splendid spring in blue violets.
Richard M. Deets, Dubin, California
“We Sailed on”…appeared on Poem Hunter site.
https://www.poemhunter.com/
Purple Patterns, a photo by Margaret Saine
embroidered in children, stitch
Haiku for Mother’s Day by Richard M. Deets
—a piece of poetry relating to disability.
We were in Chadds Ford and talked of Wyeth art,
Timeless as Brandywine Valley landscapes.
We weighed the mystery of Christina's courage
Rising above the crippling curse of polio.
Mid-March chills encroached upon the evening hour.
Then the wind battered shutters and bent
Daffodils and chickweed, and rain
Splashed the riverward windows. We romanticized ourselves
With memories as children bicycling winding country roads
Over rolling hills dropping into sleepy valleys,
Your flaming auburn hair was always beyond reach.
Suddenly rain showers slowed to a quiet drizzle.
The only sound - a cardinal striking the casement window.
I stood in the cottage entry drying forearm crutches,
and turned to see you drooping in your wheelchair, staring stainless
Braces stacked in night shadows as if searching for the child
Paralysis free, I watched a tear round your pale cheek, and fall.
And what of the spring day remained? A Norfolk Southern freight
Whistle faded northward and the courage of Christina,
Which we had discussed, appeared out of reach in the rain.
Richard M. Deets
Published: 2012/03/15
Snow in the mountains, 5 June 2024, photo by Margaret Saine
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