Rainbow over the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone by Thomas Moran (1837-1926) painted in 1900, the Smithsonian American Art Museum.
The first part of the CSPS Poetry Letter No. 3 of 2025, Part I - Free Speech and Elegies - Poems by Whitman, Brosman, Tademar, Accurso and Escoubas has been posted.
To round up this issue, our faithful book review editor, Michael Escoubas submitted two book reviews and we have some good news. Robert Hammond Dorsett, the Judge of the CSPS Annual Contest 2025, selected three winners and six honorary mentions from among 173 poems submitted to the contest. Congratulations to all the awardees!
~ Maja Trochimczyk, CSPS President
CONGRATULATIONS TO 2025 ANNUAL CONTESTS WINNERS
The Annual Contest Judge, Robert Hammond Dorsett selected the following winners. Congratulations!
- First Prize: “Where Once Was Day” by Tom McFadden
- Second Prize: “Inner Voice (A Pantoum)” by Suzanne Bruce
- Third Prize: “Stinson Beach” by Angelika Quirk
Honorary Mentions (in alphabetic order):
- “Ave Maria” by Livingston Rossmoor;
- “Hexagram – 9” by Mary Elliott,
- “Ho'oponopono” by Martin Wagner;
- “It Had to Be” by John W. Crawford;
- “Late May Morning” by Maureen Ellen O'Leary;
- “The Enemy Has Encircled Us” by Randy K. Schwartz
Michael Escoubas Reviews Prairie Roots by James Lowell Hall
60 Poems ~ 17 B/W Illustrations ~ 133 p. Shanti Arts Publishing. ISBN 978-1-962082-12-9
Prairie Roots is the story of a town, a home, a family, and a legacy. Told with poetic charm and treasured photographs, the story begins in 1915 in the town of Delavan, Illinois. This was the year Ray and Marguerite Lillibridge, the author's grandparents, got married. From that time forward, joys and trials were lived and shared, then told and retold, until they became the treasured foundations of a family rooted in the prairie soil of central Illinois.
The collection is structured into three divisions: I. Prairie Dawn (28), II. Sun and Air (24), and III. Green Sod Above and Lie Light. The poems are neatly gathered to reflect the historical context of each division: Birth, Maturation, Reflection.
This review seeks to highlight a family whose legacy might best be described as love. James Hall, now a practicing attorney in the Chicago area, writes, as it were, with a fountain pen filled with the “ink” of love. I say this, not because I know the poet personally but because of Hall’s testimony in his “Acknowledgements” page:
“What do you want for Christmas, Jamie?” my mother asked my four-year-old self. “People and books,” I replied. And for sixty years, save one, I have gone to Delevan each Christmas season for the people. The cacophony of aunts, uncles, racing cousins—was joy for an only child.
This same joy, inspired by the Lillibridge tribe, is a hallmark of Hall’s poetry. The first poem is about Hall’s grandmother who, on her birthday,
My grandmother greeted
family and friends, opened letters
from three US Presidents, quoted poetry,
helped two great-grandchildren
blow out one hundred candles.
Marguerite set a loving tone which came to be foundational:
Happiness in marriage—that’s not something
just happens—it’s being the right partner,
not marrying the right partner.
Ray, Marguerite’s husband:
Grew up on the plains, lived through the Children’s Blizzard, prairie fires, tornadoes, the woeful sound of hateful wind, dust storms, droughts, grasshoppers that blotted out the sky, times when all the family had to eat were tomatoes and cabbage. Most of the cattle in the West died during the brutal winter of the Great Die Up. Ray survived.
These two hearty people, familiar with suffering, became pillars that inspired and supported a family and a community through the course of generations.
“Hogging Catfish” is about a real life (though the stuff of legend) named William “Hog” Wallace. In brogue typical of the times, Hall tells the tale about Hog:
Look catfish have their home in sunken holes,
you need to go down into their haunt
and tickle them just right. When they feel
comfortable with you bein’ there,
sneak your left hand up into their mouth
like to kiss ‘em. They’ll wake up in a tizzy
realizin’ you ain’t their mama catfish,
sweating bullets to get out of that hole
they’re in. Expect that fish to reflex
jerk forward and chomp on your hand.
Each poem reflects the way things were at a time and in a place one would like to be. “Main Street Saturday Night” is one such place:
We each were given a dime on Saturday
opening a universe of possibilities.
All the stores stayed open and people
flocked into town. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds
set up a popcorn stand on Reinheimer’s
corner and soon after lighting a little stove,
sounding like small firecrackers, popping began.
Your reviewer grew up in a small town near Delavan. In these, my mature years, I often reflect upon my small-town heritage . . . Saturday nights in town was one of those gifts.
Titles such as “Chicken Every Sunday,” “First Day of School,” and “Monday Wash Day,” speak into the depths of my heart. They reveal truth about character formation, family fun and family suffering. It was the suffering that caused the most growth.
“Black Thursday” is about the Great Depression setting in. Delavan’s banks fail; dreams and hopes once assumed are dashed. For the Lillibridge family:
Two gardens, a big strawberry bed,
keep our table full:
rows of string beans, beets,
corn, carrots, peas, cucumber hills,
four apple trees, two cherry trees,
two grape arbors, white and red.
The Lillibridge family reached out to the Delavan community at large, helping, giving, sustaining when there was:
No money to build houses.
If barns and silos need repair,
folks try to fix it themselves,
before hiring Dad, then asking
him to put their bills on the books.
Toward the end of the volume, Hall salutes the memory of his father and by extension his family legacy . . . a legacy built on unshakable values of faith, family, and service. “To a Father Dying Young” details a dream in which Hall waits at a restaurant, along with a large party, to be seated. His father appears across the room in conservation with a friend. In a supernatural moment, his father:
Stopping his conversation, he smiles,
sage green eyes penetrate mine,
connect in familiar quiet ease.
A checkered table for two opens.
I think I should grab Dad and take it.
The two of us could sit and reminisce . . .
The dream ends before we get a table.
I wake, pillow damp, spent, longing.
So many questions never answered.
Washing sleep from my eyes,
in the mirror, Dad’s face looks back at me.
It is little wonder that Prairie Roots won Book of the Year, awarded by the Illinois State Poetry Society for 2024. It is rooted in the rich prairie soil of truth and love.
~ Reviewed by Michael Escoubas
How to be a Contemplative: Poems and Brief Reflections by Judith Valente
30 Poems ~ 30 Reflections ~ 89 pages. Publisher: Kelsay Books. ISBN; 978-1-63980-725-3
It has been said that one cannot tell a book by its cover. However, this overused cliché does not work for Judith Valente’s new book, How to Be A Contemplative. The image of two figures in a meditative posture is a perfect fit. Valente captures the essence of her collection through two quotations which appear in her epigraph:
From Mary Oliver: “Sometimes I need only stand where I am to be blessed.”
Evidence
From Thomas Merton: “Here is an unspeakable secret: Paradise is all around us and we do not understand.” Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander.
In a world too often defined by violence, confusion, crises of identity, lack of trustworthy truth sources, How to Be A Contemplative takes centerstage in the spirit of Mary Oliver’s insightful dictum. With understanding and grace, Judith Valente shows how one may “learn” how to “stand where I am and be blessed.”
Design
In a simple but effective layout, the book features thirty poems in all. Each poem is complemented by a reflection about each poem. The reflections don’t explain the poems but add “soil” for additional thought. Arranged in three parts, each part contains ten poems that bear a likeness to one another. There is no strict relation between the poems; Valente has nuanced each part into neat units that offer an artistic montage.
Prologue
I found the prologue immensely helpful. Valente connected with me as two companions walking down a path talking about life. We talk about poetry and art and being alone. We talk about the power of words to help us make sense of an “inscrutable” world. I came away from reading the prologue realizing that How to Be A Contemplative is a gift offered by one soul to another. My appreciation for the life I’ve been given increased like the sensation one feels when hit by a spray of sea salt air.
Selections that Spoke to My Heart
From Part One, Valente relates childhood experiences that led to her becoming a poet:
Becoming a Writer
Picture a wooden seat the size of a suitcase in a backyard in
northern New Jersey.
Above it, the fan-like leaves of a fig tree, their fine hairs.
Picture the tree’s small fruits dangling like teardrops poised at any
moment to drop.
Then place a ten-year-old child in that spot overlooking the cross-
stitches of the Jersey Central Railroad flowing on their way to
anywhere and nowhere.
Let the child look up at the neighbor’s clothesline strung like
electric wire, at the empty-bodied clothes:
the work shirts, baby pajamas, stained white socks, woman’s
nightgown thinned from too much washing.
Let her listen for the train’s whistle, the rumbling of cars over a
distant bridge, a life beyond.
Let her fill each piece of clothing with a story.
This is how it begins. This is how it happens on a summer
afternoon.
She notes the tar scent in the air, the shape of grass beneath the
rubber soles of her shoes, and how the children playing in a
nearby alley screech like cats in the night.
She is soaring above the fig tree, writing words with air, tethered to
dry ground but walking in space.
Judith’s commentary resonates as I recall similar experiences:
There comes a moment in every life when we receive an intimation of what we are meant to be and do. As Mary Oliver writes in her poem, “The Journey”: One day you finally knew / what you had to do and began. For some of us, if we are lucky that moment comes at an early age, perhaps as a small child seated on a block of wood beneath a fig tree. Perhaps what sparks it is something as simple as looking up at the neighbors’ clothesline. For others the moment might come later in life. What matters is that when the message comes, we listen.
I found “Super Wolf Moon,” inspired by 8th century Chinese poet Li Po, especially helpful for contemplation on the vastness of the world we live in. The poem and reflection recommends gazing at the firmament at night. I’ve done this and felt blessed by the immensity of it all. I think of Thomas Merton’s insight: To gain a sense of this earthly paradise. It is as if there is a distinctive human element to the natural world. As if the world speaks to hearts which pause, slow down, and hear its voice.
Not only does Valente challenge my intellect, but practical application is also on her mind. I find that I can use these poems to grow into childlike wonder. We poets desire to touch the hearts of our readers. How can we do that without the skills of listening, observing, and translating those skills from pen to page?
Since this is a self-help collection, I would be remiss if I didn’t offer the title poem as exhibit #1:
How to Be a Contemplative
Find a window. Sit by it.
Stare at the flower box of cosmos,
the bees that kiss the blooms and move on.
Sit, not for just two minutes,
but linger there. Waste time.
Forget the laundry, the grocery list,
the buzzing phone, the writing that waits.
Imagine sitting on a shoreline
listening to the endless rumor of the sea.
Imagine rising and falling like the tide.
Our mistakes are doors, our successes
melt quickly on the tongue.
The face you soon will see in the mirror
is the face of every person you’ve ever met.
It opens like a book of singular stories
unfolding, encompassing everything:
the bee stings, birdsong, night sweats,
sunrises, sunsets, discoveries, losses.
All of it good, all of it a placeholder for meaning.
Then listen for the one word you yearn to hear,
the voice that calls you by name, that calls you Beloved.
Throughout my review experience, I felt as if Judy Valente wanted me to appreciate, ever more deeply, Thomas Merton’s unspeakable secret: Paradise is all around us.
This spiritual gem is underpriced at a mere $20.00.
~ Reviewed by Michael Escoubas
The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone by Thomas Moran (1837-1926), painted in 1893-1901,| Smithsonian American Art Museum
CALIFORNIA STATE POETRY SOCIETY
Established in 1971, CSPS is the official state organization representing California to the National Federation of State Poetry Societies (NFSPS). CSPS was incorporated on August 14th, 1985 as a 501(c)(3) organization, so donations above the membership level are tax deductible. Donor and patron support ensure (1) the quality publications of the CSPS continue and (2) our mission to promote poetry and art in California and around the world continues to grow. Information regarding renewal and patron contributions is on the Membership page.
The CSPS began publication of the California Quarterly in the fall of 1972. The California Quarterly, published four times a year, accepts only unpublished poetry. Foreign language poems with an English translation are also welcome. Submissions may be made through Submittable.com, email, website and mail (for those without access to the internet and email addresses).
CSPS OFFICERS
President – Maja Trochimczyk, Ph.D.
Vice President/Communications – Richard Modiano
Vice President/Membership – Richard M. Deets
Secretary/Historian – Ambika Talwar
Treasurer – John Forrest Harrell, Ph.D.
California Quarterly (CQ) Board of Editors
Managing Editor: Maja Trochimczyk
Editors: Nicholas Skaldetvind, Bory Thach, and Konrad Wilk
Monthly Contest Chair – Alice Pero.
Annual Contest Chair – Maja Trochimczyk
POETRY LETTER
The Poetry Letter (Online ISSN 2836-9394; Print ISSN 2836-9408) is a quarterly electronic publication, issued by the California State Poetry Society. Edited by Maja Trochimczyk since 2020 and by Margaret Saine earlier. The Poetry Letter is emailed and posted on the CSPS website, CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety.org. Sections of the Poetry Letter are also posted separately on the CSPS Blog, CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety.com.
MONTHLY CONTEST SUBMISSONS GUIDELINES
California State Poetry Society encourages poetic creativity by organizing monthly poetry contests. The contests are open to all poets, whether or not they are members of the CSPS. Reading fees are $1.50 per poem with a $3.00 minimum for members and $3.00 per poem with a $6.00 minimum for non-members. Entries must be postmarked during the month of the contest in which they are entered. They must consist of a cover page with all contact information (name, address, telephone number and email address) as well as the month and THEME on cover page, and the titles of the poems being submitted.
Starting in January 2023, we are accepting previously published poems for our Monthly Contest. Please note the publication where it first appeared on any such poem. There are three ways to submit.
(1) by regular mail (enclosing check) or email (using PayPal CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety@gmail.com): CSPS Monthly Contest – (Specify Contest Month). Post Office Box 4288, Sunland, CA 91041
(2) online on our website CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety.org (you must register and create a profile with a password first, then the option to submit poems and fees will open), or
(3) by email, using PayPal to pay (CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety@gmail.com) and email to send your poems (CSPSMonthlyContests@gmail.com (specify the month).
The monthly contest winners are notified the month after they are awarded. All of the winners for the year are listed in the first CSPS Newsbriefs and published in the first Poetry Letter of the following year. Prizewinning poems are also posted on the blog, CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety.com.
The 1st prize winner receives half of the prize pool for pools less than $100. Please note: Do not send SAEs. We do not return poems. If you win, we will let you know. Otherwise, there are no notifications.
CSPS Monthly Contest Themes (Revised):
① January: Nature, Landscape;② February: Love;③ March: Open, Free Subject;④ April: Mythology, Dreams, Other Universes;⑤ May: Personification, Characters, Portraits;⑥ June: The Supernatural;⑦July: Childhood, Memoirs;⑧ August: Places, Poems of Location;⑨ September: Colors, Music, Dance;⑩ October: Humor, Satire;⑪ November: Family, Friendship, Relationships;⑫ December: Back Down to Earth (Time, Seasons).
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