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Friday, December 19, 2025

Contents of California Quarterly, Vol. 51, No. 4 (Winter 2025) edited by Bory Thach - Winners of Annual Contest 2025

California Quarterly Vol, 51 No. 4, Winter 2025, edited by Bory Thach
Cover image - "Sunrise" by Janusz Maszkiewicz, oil on canvas

 TABE OF CONTENTS

A Passion of Orange   —  Allegra Silberstein  —  7

 February 21  —   John Accurso  —  

City of Rain    Mary Elliot   9 

Wings    Constance Hanstedt   10 

#636: The Buoyant Thrum of Abbot’s Lagoon    Rob Sienna  —  11 

Distant Shore    Daniel Fitzgerald    12 

winter walk    Livio Farallo  13 

Travelers     Bory Thach   14 

Need for Scarcity   Alessio Zanelli   15 

When You Think You Know Everything About Your Father    Hedy Habra   16 

Come, Become Whole   Madhu Kailas   17 

Tides of Unbeing    David Anson Lee   18 

Talking to God   W. Wayne Lin  —  19 

Willow in the Rain    Richard Luftig    20 

A Mild Winter    Cathy Porter    21 

My Heart Weeps     Donna Thomas   —  22 

Letter To A Sister    David Anson Lee    23 

Beloved    David Rosenheim    24 

Nothing Will Ever Be The Same Again     Jim Tilley  —  25 

Almost Untitled    Connie S. Tettenborn     26 

Weathervane    Carol Traynor Mayer   —  27 

Last Class  —   Nichole Turnbloom  —  28 

Words On Sale Lynn White Words On Sale  —  Lynn White —  29

Liner Notes  —  Gloria Keeley  —  30

Unwritten Words  —  Alice Pero  —  31

The Joke  —  James Miller  —  32

Winter Time in the Valley  — James Piatt  —   33

The Art of Zebra  —   Kathleen Gunton  —  34

The Angel of the Old Exploratorium  —  Mathew Mitchell, 35

Somewhere, On a Bridge —  Mostafa Badaoui, tr. —  36

Somewhere, On a Bridge (in Arabic)   Mostafa Badaoui  —  37

Unlikely Celebrations  —  W.C. Gosnell —  38

Fire  —  Alicia Caldanaro  — 39

Spinning  —  Christine Candland   —  40

Things That Changed Us —  W.C. Gosnell  —  41

On The Bitterroot River  —  Kareem Tayyar  —  42

Avenue of the Giants  —  Kareem Tayyar  —  43

Awake  —  Alice Pero  —   44

Guardian  —  Bory Thach  —  45

 Winners of 38th Annual Contest (2025) —   46

The Judge’s Comments  —  Robert Hammond Dorsett —  46

Where Once Was Day  —  Tom McFadden  (1st Prize)—  48

Inner Voice (A Pantoum)  Suzanne Bruce (2nd Prize) —  49

Stinson Beach  —  Angelika Quirk (3rd Prize) —  50

It Had to Be  —  John W. Crawford  (Honorary Mention)  51

Hexagram – 9   —  Mary Elliott  (Honorary Mention) —  52

Late May Morning —  Maureen Ellen O’Leary (Honorary Mention) —  53

Ave Maria  —  Livingston Rossmoor  (Honorary Mention) —  54

The Enemy Has Encircled Us  —  Randy K. Schwartz  (Honorary Mention)—  56

Ho'oponopono  —  Martin Wagner  (Honorary Mention) —  57

Contributors in Alphabetical Order —   58

CSPS Contest Opportunities  —  60

CSPS Newsbriefs 2024, No. 4 by Maja Trochimczyk  —  62

Publishing Opportunities with CSPS  —  65

2024 CSPS Donors, Patrons, and Membership  —   66

Membership Form   —  68


Sunrise, by Janusz Maszkiewicz,  oil on canvas

EDITOR'S NOTE

I want to thank each of the poets for illuminating us to their unique perspectives on relationships, family, love, and loss. With them, we visit childhood memories and observe the world with all its wonder and change, from autumn to winter. As Allegra Silberstein’s poem, “A Passion of Orange” reminds us that just outside her window, the sunlit view is enough to stay positive and keep joy alive. The winter season can be cold and lonely, but it doesn’t have to be, depending on our perspective. We remember and celebrate loved ones during the upcoming holidays, finding beauty in everything around us. Tomorrow is never promised, so let’s enjoy the present moment for its limitless possibilities. David Anson Lee’s “Tides of Unbeing” reveals to us that “unbeing is as constant as being” and our memories are kept alive in these poems. The art of writing poetry is to reveal certain truths. Every moment is a new discovery, every day can be a reunion of friends and family.  

Words become gifts, letters, and poems that heal us. We need hope in our daily lives. Poetry can give us purpose, direction, and meaning. We use it as a way to tell stories about ourselves, memories that we don’t want to forget because without them, nothing else matters. Like the shared air and passing breaths that collide between “presence and forgetting,” we take a winter walk through a mystical forest where nature’s pristine waters remain sanctuaries for exploration, in search of hidden, secret knowledge that exists inside of us. From a distant shore to Mary Elliot’s “City of Rain,” we hear river spirits whisper truths that “all things” such as stone, flesh, and even memory are here one moment and then gone the next—their “names scrawled” and washed away by the rain. Still, we go on searching for hope after the loss of a father, a sister, or a child because no matter if our mortal bodies get devoured by flood or fire, the soul continues on its journey—another state of being or unbeing. I hope that these “unlikely celebrations” that are written and unwritten become words of wisdom as they have for me.

I hope all readers of the California Quarterly enjoy my choices and appreciate the talents of poets. Happy New Year 2026! 

Bory Thach, San Bernardino, California

California Quarterly, Volume 51, Number 4

ABOUT THE EDITOR

Bory Thach was born in a refugee camp located on the border between Thailand and Cambodia. His family immigrated to the United States when he was four years old. He served in the U.S. Army and deployed to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. He has an MFA from California State University San Bernardino. Fiction and creative nonfiction fall under the art of storytelling, while poetry for him is more of a study of language, an art form in itself. His work appeared or is forthcoming in Pacific Review, Urban Ivy, Arteidolia, Sand Canyon Review and two anthologies  We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology  (2020) and Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdsom (2022). He recently completed a book of poetry dialogues with Cindy Rinne, Letters under Rock (2019) that has been presented as a quasi-theatrical performance in art galleries and museums in Southern California. He joined the Editorial Board in July 2020 and started his duties from volume 47 no. 1 of the California Quarterly.

NEWSBRIEFS

The California Quarterly, Vol. 51, No. 4 features the winners of the 38th Annual Poetry Contest, adjudicated by Robert Hammond Dorsett. All prize-winning poems, including six honorary mentions, are included in this issue of the CQ. Congratulations! We are glad to welcome back Bory Thach as the Editor of this issue, since he has impeccable taste and offers a unique perspective. Mr. Thach was born in a refugee camp located on the border between Thailand and Cambodia. His family immigrated to the United States when he was four years old. He served in the U.S. Army and deployed to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. He has an MFA from California State University, San Bernardino. His work appeared in Pacific Review, Urban Ivy, Arteidolia, Sand Canyon Review, and two anthologies, We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology (2020) and Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom (2022). After completing a book of poetry dialogues with Cindy Rinne, Letters under Rock in 2019, he is working on another book with her, this time featuring three authors. Mr. Thach joined the CQ Editorial Board in July 2020.  

The vibrant cover of this issue of the Caifornia Quartery is a reproduction of a painting by Janusz Maszkiewicz. He is a Polish-born American painter, sculptor and furniture-maker, and a preeminent artist in the field of marquetry veneer inlays. He is also a gallery owner and member of the Polish Art Group KRAK, frequently hosting art exhibitions at his gallery. His paintings were featured in CSPS Poetry Letter No. 2 of 2023.  

The Poetry Letter. The third issue of the CSPS Poetry Letter of 2025 presented reflections on free speech and elegiesfor victims of political assassinations, starting with the starting with the classic poem by Walt Whitman about President Abraham Lincoln (“When Lilacs Last In The Dooryard Bloom’d”), as well as a sonnet by Konrad Tademar Wilk dedicated to the memory of Charlie Kirk. John Accurso contributed two poems about the world of peace without violence, and Michael Escoubas honored the fallen soldiers, brothers in arms. Our featured poet was Catharine Savage Brosman, whose fixed-form verse draws from the riches of Western tradition. To match the poems, the issue was illustrated with visionary landscape and nature paintings by Thomas Moran, Albert Bierstadt, Mary Vaux Walcott, and John La Farge; all are preserved at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. 

Pushcart Prize Nominations. The following six poems were nominated to the Annual Pushcart Prizes for best poems published by small presses in 2025. From CQ 51:1 (guest-edited by r.g. cantalupo), “The Girl Who Talked to the Moon” by Christine Candland and “The Nature of Opened Doors” by John Schneider. From CQ 51:2 (ed. Nicholas Skaldetvind), “In Quarantine I, II, III” by Christna Pugh and “A Wet Velocity” by Jade Lascelles. From CQ 51:3 (ed. Maja Trochimczyk), “When the Prophet Comes Home” by Livingston Rossmoor and “Stream of Consciousness” by Carolyn Jabs. Congratulations! Poems published in CQ 51:4, edited by Bory Thach will be nominated in the next cycle, in November 2025, since the issue was not ready by the nominations’ deadline.

 A Memoria Donation. The CSPS is a small poetry organization, relying on its reserves for budget shortfalls. Therefore, we are very grateful for the anonymous donor that decided to support our Society with a sizable Memoria Donation honoring our former member, talented California poet Deborah P Kolodji. The funds will be used to reprint some copies of the CQ 48:4 that Debbie edited and for other future projects, currently being considered.

 CSPS Members Activities. Being busy is good, it means we are needed here, on our blue-green planet, and that what we have to offer to the world is actually appreciated… So our Board members have been extremely busy in recent months. Nicholas Skaldetvind moved to the Ph.D. Program in American Literature at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque and recently won the 2025 Award for Best Graduate Student Paper at the Conference of American Literature Association for his paper on “The Spontaneous Poetics in Kerouac’s Letters. Congratulations! His first chapbook is in preparation, as well. Konrad Tademar Wilk is completing the final corrections of his books of 168 sonnets written in 2013 and set aside that is finally seeing the light of day in 2025. Six sonnets from the Trafficking in Time received Pushcart Prize Nomination for this year. Well done!

 After a series of awards and publications, Ambika Talwar went on a three-month silent retreat to replenish her spirit. Maja Trochimczyk ended her tenure of 9.5 years as President of Helena Modjeska Club by becoming its Distinguished Member. She wrote a chapter on poetic portraits of a pianist & statesman, Ignacy Jan Paderewski (1860-1941) for a book and collected these fascinating poems into an anthology, Paderewski Essays & Poems (2025).

 The CSPS and the NFSPS. On 18 October 2025, during a duly called meeting of the Board of the California State Poetry Society, at which a quorum was present, the Board unanimously approved the Resolution (copied below) and amendments to the CSPS Constitution and Bylaws, to sever its relationship with the National Federation of State Poetry Societies and rescind the CSPS membership in the Federation. The next step was the email vote by the members of the Society to approve both the Resolution and the amended Constitution and Bylaws. The email (and mail to two members without email) of 27 October 2025 featured three attachments: a) the CSPS Board Resolution, b) the redlined text of the CSPS Constitution and Bylaws, c) the amended, final text of th   2025 CSPS Constitution and By-laws for approval. Of active members who paid dues for 2025, 52.6% responded within one month. The votes were counted on 30 November 2025. The proposed resolution and amendments were approved by a majority vote: YES – 76.7%, NO – 6.7%, ABSTAIN – 16.6%. The CSPS membership in NFSPS is therefore ending on 31 Dec. 2025. We are looking forward to our independent future!

Maja Trochimczyk, CSPS President. 

Pluit by Janszu Masziewicz, 2019, mixed media.

WINNERS OF THE 38th ANNUA POETRY CONTEST

California State Poetry Society is pleased to announce the winners of its 38th Annual Poetry Contest selected by Judge Robert Hammond Dorsett of Berkeley, California.  We are grateful to all poets who submitted a total of 178 poems this year.

CONTEST PRIZES

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) 

“It Had to Be” by John W. Crawford  

“Hexagram – 9” by Mary Elliott 

“Late May Morning” by Maureen Ellen O'Leary 

“Ave Maria” by Livingston Rossmoor 

“The Enemy Has Encircled Us” by Randy K. Schwartz

“Ho'oponopono” by Martin Wagner

THE JUDGE’S COMMENTS

I would like to thank Maja Trochimczyk and the board of the California State Poetry Society for giving me the honor of being the judge for their annual poetry contest. I would also  like to thank all those who sent their poems. I was pleased by the quality of the submissions; they were genuine and heart-felt. 

       I have chosen ‘Where Once was Day’ for the number one slot; ‘Inner Voice’ for the second, and, for the third, ‘Stinson Beach’. 

       ‘Where Once Was Day’, the first-place winner, has a simple and familiar meaning: the passage of night into day, symbolizing the dark night of the soul, or depression, seeking redemption or relief. It is a prayer and a poem of praise that keeps its lyric tone throughout. It’s hard to do and rarely found.

        For the second place, I chose ‘Inner Voice’, a pantoum. In the repetitions necessitated by that form, the poem maintains its progress, starting with surprise at the rising voice and ending with gratitude. The language is lyrical and clean, that is to say there are no unnecessary words. 

       For the third place, I chose ‘Stinson Beach’, an elegy in which the recurring waves of grief and fear are represented by water waves falling on a beach. The waves are sirens, falsely beautiful, then become the lapping voices of doctors repeating a serious diagnosis. Fear and grief keep flowing over the speaker in waves. This is true to life; I found this poem very affecting. 

The poems for the Runners Up section are given here in alphabetical order: 

  • ‘Ave Maria’, for telling us that the well-known aria must have darker depths, and doing so in good verse; 
  • ‘Hexagram 9’ for its sustained lyricism; 
  • ‘Ho’oponopono’, for the use of an ancient Hawaiian practice of forgiveness to tell us about the speaker’s own son; 
  • ‘It Had To Be’ for its powerful last stanza; 
  • ‘Late May Morning’, also for its lyric beauty, and
  • ‘The Enemy Encircled Us’, in which the enemy, remaining nameless, evokes more from the reader. 

       Once again, I thank all who have participated. I hope you will continue working on your poetry. And I wish everyone success.

Robert Hammond Dorsett, 2025 CSPS Contest Judge

ABOUIT ROBERT HAMMOND DORSETT 

Robert Hammond Dorsett, born in Jersey City NJ, graduated from Rutgers University with a major in biology and a minor in mathematics. Subsequently, he received an MD degree from the University of NY and had a residency in psychiatry, and then pediatrics, at Cornell. He was a naval officer during the Viet Nam War and studied Chinese at the Chinese University in Hong Kong during the Mao years. His first book, translated along with David Pollard from the memoirs of the dissident Gao Ertai, was published in 2009 by HarperCollins (In Search of My Homeland: A Memoir of a Chinese Labor Camp). He second book, a translation from the poems of Wen Yiduo, was published by BrightCity Books in 2014 (Stagnant Water & Other Poems), and the third book of translation was a selection of Ai Qing, published by Penquin/Random House and throughout Europe as a Viking Classic. He has a fellowship in poetry from MacDowell and an MFA from NYU. More information https://www.roberthammonddorsett.com/.  

Tarantella by Janusz Masziewicz, oil on canvas, 2019

WHERE ONCE WAS DAY


As I sense presence where once was day,

I pray the night be still and undisturbed.

I pray into shadows

that they not descend into profundity

too deep for return to light.

I pray into the lurking ahead,

where I cannot see,

that there be nothing which waits for me.

I pray that the unhappened

may dismiss its urge to form

and deem abeyance satisfactory

in this shapelessness

which precedes the new day born.

I bless each breeze while blowing

kindness across the fears

and thank the air for alarm-free silence

while the breezes wait.

I thank all past adversity

for turning to courage inside me

from lessons of life's road,

ill turned.

And I praise the stars for subtle shine

as I sense time's long decline.

I pray the night be still and undisturbed;

and, if it agrees, I, too, will remain like that,

undisturbed through the fall of hours,

accompanying them in their deepening way,

if only I may know the dawn will really come

to render exorable

this residence

in the black below the day.

Tom McFadden 

First Prize, 38th Annual CSPS Poetry Contest, 2025


Yellow Fever by Janusz Maszkiewicz, 2019, Oil on canvas.

INNER VOICE

(A Pantoum) 


You appear out of nowhere

a voice that rises like fire

I want to skate on silver linings

you remind me there might be thin ice.


A voice that rises with no fear

encourages me to jump and spin

so what if there is thin ice,

you help me through those edgy times.


Try a new jump, higher and twirl

release the strings and fly!

I trust your help in scary times

inextricably we are melded.


Release the strings and let it out!

Sometimes it is ok to scream, be loud

inextricably we are melded

balance survives the teetering.


Feels good to sometimes scream, be loud

though I always want to skate on silver linings,

balance celebrates previous teetering

thank goodness you reliably appear.

Suzanne Bruce, Fairfield, California

Second Prize, 38th Annual CSPS Poetry Contest, 2025

Windy Valley Muskox, 2019, Mix media, 60 x 48 inches

STINSON BEACH


We watch the sea at Stinson Beach

swirling, picking up steam. It pushes

against sea gulls' screech stalking

my dreams. Waves like sirens

of the sea crashing in, recklessly

encroaching on coastal land

and the sanity of life.

When the wet sand shifts

under our feet, we worry

about sliding into an abyss,

about thousands of pebbles

washing ashore like cells

multiplying, then drowning

in the windward turmoil

with lapping voices

repeating the prognosis.


Yet the word cancer unspoken,

devoured by the next wave,

so we can celebrate

the fresh breeze on this day,

his birthday watching the tide

roll in, roll out licking the shoreline

clean of seaweed and the debris

of foggy afterthoughts.

Blowing it all away

in this wind, on this day

of somber reckoning.

Angelika Quirk, San Rafael, California

Third Prize, 38th Annual CSPS Poetry Contest, 2025

Janusz Maszkiewicz in his studio, painting.

COVER IMAGE - Janusz Maszkiewicz

Monument conservator and restorer, painter, the owner of Vienna Woods Gallery. Born in Lisewo (1946). His art education began with the Nicolaus Copernicus University in Toruń, Poland (1973). His studied Chemistry and Fine Art Restoration. He served as assistant professor in painting restoration and Medieval Sculpture restoration. At that time, he was attending drawing and painting classes instructed by Henryk Wadowski. In the late 1970s, he was active in the local artistic community in Toruń. In the 1980s, he lived in London, England. He had solo shows near Portobello Road at the Blenheim Crescent Gallery as well as at Hyde Park Gallery in Bayswater. In 1989, he emigrated to New York City. He was represented by Stendahl Gallery on Broadway in Soho. He was a part of group shows during that period of four years in New York. The artist moved farther west to Santa Monica, CA (1993). Here, he opened his own business, which included building and designing fine furniture as well as fine art/antique restoration.

"My works evoke direct feelings of cold or heat. The aesthetically arranged colors complement each other, providing the viewer with a vast array of experiences"- Janusz Maszkiewicz




 

Friday, December 5, 2025

CSPS Announces Pushcart Prize Nominations for 2025


The following poems published in the California Quarterly, Vo. 51 have been nominated by the editors for the 2025 Pushcart Prize this year. The nominations had to be sent by December 1, and we did not have the fourth issue of the CQ ready yet, so there are two poems nominated per issue of the other three issues. Our only complaint is that there are too many great poems to choose from!

 Vol. 51, No. 1: The Girl Who Talked to the Moon by Christine Candland

Vol. 51, No. 1: The Nature of Opened Doors by John Schneider

Vol. 51, No. 2: In Quarantine I, II, III by Christina Pugh

Vol. 51, No. 2: A Wet Velocity by Jade Lascelles

Vol. 51, No. 3: When the Prophet Comes Home by Livingston Rossmoor

Vol. 51, No. 3: Stream of Consciousness by Carolyn Jabs

Congratulations! 

CQ Editors –  Maja Trochimczyk (Managing Editor), Bory Thach, Nicholas Skaldetvind, and Konrad Tademar Wilk 

California State Poetry Society Board of Directors -  President – Maja Trochimczyk, Vice President/Communications – Richard Modiano, Vice President/Membership – Richard M. Deets, Secretary – Ambika Talwar, Treasurer – John Forrest Harrell, Monthly Contest Chair – Alice Pero



THE GIRL WHO TALKED TO THE MOON

 

In the Sea of Rains the sun blows scarlet,

sunset after sunset while

scattered opal light leads right out of

the basin.

 

I’ll pitch a tent, stakes in the ground.

Make sure it’s level.  Listen to wind chimes

breathless, singing alpha notes like pleasing wine.

 

When I move to the Sea of Rains, I’ll dance every night.

My feet will touch bottom only sometimes in between

partners, shadows on the wall, of sorts.

A rhumba, then waltz. Mendelssohn’s Hebrides

will echo throughout the halls.

 

When I live in the Sea of Rains, I’ll wear gossamer

over trails of silk and harmony; shimmy down

cavern walls with unexpected ease; as icy droplets

crest in a crystal vase carefully placed.

 

I’ll find him in the Crater of Hypnotic Dreams.

He’ll be searching for titanium, gold or even me.

Suppose he doesn’t like me. What will I do then?

 

Pythagoras will move next door. We’ll take a2+b2=c2 apart,

figure out how it works. Calder will build mobiles that sway

on kinetic currents. We’ll ride gondolas perched in the sky;

fly from peak to peak, as stars settle around us,

wondering who we are.

   

Christine Candland

Los Angeles, California


Whispers of Passion by Kasia Czerpak-Weglinski, acrylic on canvas


THE NATURE OF OPENED DOORS

 

Never mind that dust keeps rising

before us like ancestral ghosts

 

or that there’s never been a true bridge

            between living and dead.

 

Never mind how all melodies eventually

            find their native silence

 

and names tremble free of their stones

            despite the bodies still resting below.

 

Never mind the muted wind chimes

            of their voices, how hard we still find it

 

to hear without listening. No longer contained

            behind a rusted closet door at the far

 

end of an unlit hallway, every keepsake

            that’s kept us from forgiveness

 

and being forgiven. Let’s dust off all these old

            melodies, the weightlessness of their silences,

 

reunite names with their bodies, learn the contours

of this unlikely bridge, that’s always been here.

 

                                                John Schneider

Berkeley, California 



IN QUARANTINE I

  

I live among the branches of an oak.

My home is a labyrinth that ends

inside this room: blue walls, white bed;

on the wall, a blue artichoke

and three arches reaching toward

a paradise beyond the frame, one arch chic

dismantling itself in a processional.

I don’t believe in an afterlife, but while

I’m here, I want to believe in the ideal.

 

IN QUARANTINE II

 

Epaulement means shouldering,

in ballet lexicon—a verb that doesn’t

quite exist in English.  Like this crabbed

compulsive shoulder to the web: a spider

thrusting long silk far from its focal point--

a sermon, O my soul.  I sense its rhythm

pause and twirl as syncopated

diligence: this labyrinth will widen

by the time we wake tomorrow.

 

IN QUARANTINE III

 

Putting points together, like a proof or a galaxy:

you bicycled far beyond the city limits

to look for the kissed, compounded Star of David--

two planets colluding in a brightness intricate

as needlepoint or harmony.  In the clouds,

you saw nothing but clouds.  Yet the night

had been magical, you told me later.

Something more than vision had spoken. 

  

Christina Pugh

Evanston, Illinois



Some Colors of Water by Nicholas Skaldetvind, watercolor.


A WET VELOCITY

  

right now, at this very moment, vibrations from the quivering muscles inside of me, 

in the vulnerable and intimate tunnel that is my throat, are forming waves. waves 

that are cresting and building momentum, foaming at their own natal agitation, 

forming a tide’s pull in search of land. and by land, I mean the masses that are other

beings in this room with me. and these waves crash and break onto the calm beaches

inside of them and the sands of their edges filter my restless waves into something

comprehensible. and the salinity of the sound that somehow equates to what I want to

say is mixing with the quartz and glass fragments that somehow equate to their wanting 

to hear it. and together, in this exchange, we are enacting the staggering power of 

water’s dance with a gravitational pull that takes up most of this planet. and just as 

we will never see all of the ocean’s surface area, nor will we ever hear many words 

spoken aloud to us. so what we’re doing here is becoming aware, if only for a few

minutes, of the undercurrent running beneath the resonance of these letters shapeshifting

from internal to external and then internal again, but in a different location. we are

collaborating in alchemical ways, and it is oceanic and it is magic and we should all 

be aghast that we are capable of being here, together, fluid and destructive and 

immense as salt water. our voices as unpredictable as a tide receding out and then 

rushing back in again.    

  

Jade Lascelles
Denver, Colorado




STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

 

Perched on a rock mid-stream

I wonder when the past became

a deeper pool than the future.

So easy to get lost in the murk

of river weeds and memory:

 

people tethered to their history

only by photos of days

that weren’t typical if only

because someone took pictures; 

 

places rearranged by someone else

oblivious to the one curtained window

open to a breeze that soothed

the fever of a summer night;

 

stories that blur the boundary

between imagination and reality

because I can’t be certain who

was there and, even if I knew, 

they aren’t reliable witnesses. 

 

I turn toward the other pool

so shallow I can see each stone,

etched by eons of experience.

 

Tiny fish play hide-and-seek

with the shadows. Twigs, launched

by someone upstream,

run aground here.

 

A leaf floats on its back

savoring what’s left of the day.

   

Carolyn Jabs

Santa Barbara, California




Pacific Coast Highway by Andrzej Kołodziej (Andy Kolo), oil on canvas.  

WHEN THE PROPHET COMES HOME

The world is a humongous whale,

drifting through an ocean of galaxies.

We are all small fish.

That is bona fide.

The truth never comes out.

Was it a spontaneous outburst?

The way a star is born

after gas condensed, compacted and exploded.

Or an act to initiate a new plot,

like every movie vying for Oscars.

The verdict requires an oracle.

A breeze to comfort, strengthen

the remaining conviction,

and whisper to us:

“When you are tired,

come to the pond.

We will see what fish see

in the muddy water,

and find out

why they are lured by bait,

and how they confront the hook.“

Then with a lower voice:

“Even though no one is waiting for you,

wait till the water is clear.

You will see them all.”

  

Livingston Rossmoor


Modesto, California