Cover Art: Pacific Coast Highway by Andrzej Kołodziej (Andy Kolo), oil on canvas.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Bakersfield — W. C. Gosnell — — — 7
Alice Keck Park — Paul Willis — — — 8
High Above La Cienega — Carlo DiOrio — 9
Blueberry Parade — Jenny McBride — 9
Still Life in Red Smoke Light — David Rosenheim — 10
My Rustic Italian Loaf — Christine Leistner —10
Acreage — Sarp Sozdinler — — — 11
Knives and Noodles — Ellice Jeon — — 12
Couple — Jianqing Zheng — — — 13
Unbecoming — Daisy Bassen — — — 14
Photograph — Rustin Larson — — — 15
reading — Gregory Cecil — — — 15
A Special Moment — James Piatt — 16
The House — Jenny McBride — — 16
Fossils and Footprints — Sarp Sozdinler — 17
Dear Apology, — KM Kramer — — — 18
Fragmentationv — Carolyn Jabs — — — 19
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle — W. C. Gosnell — 20
Museum of Broken Hearts — D. A. Hosek — 20
In That Room, Again — Peter J. Kahn — 21
Ave Maria — Livingston Rossmoor — — — 22
Carmen Philomelaicum — Eugenius II of Toledo — 24
Carmen Philomelaicum — Trans. D. A. Hosek 25
Listening to the Refrigerator — Kathryn Gessner Calkins 26
Made History — Daisy Bassen — — 27
Spaghetti Western Villanelle —Deborah H. Doolittle —28
Jubilate Mammonæ — D. A. Hosek — 29
Ти Знаєш Відповідь — Dmitry Blizniuk — 30
You Know the Answer — Trans. Sergey Gerasimov —31
Survivor’s Guide — R Haines — — 32
After Diana Der Hovanessian — Laura Walter —34
Crow Dog — William R. Ford Jr. — — — 35
Manners — Peter J. Kahn — — — 35
Riding the Big Waves at Rockaway — David Rosenheim —36
Early Morning Thoughts — Sarah Baker — 36
Eclipse — KM Kramer — — — 37
Free Man Minus Umbrella — Ace Boggess — 38
Wind — Deepak Dubey — — — 39
What Is It About — Andrena Zawinski — 40
The Inconstant Moonv — V. P. Loggins — 41
Paper Mansion — Ellice Jeon — — 42
Dream — Sarah Baker — — — 43
Oczy Picassa — Andrzej Kołodziej — — 44
Picasso’s Eyes — Tr. Maja Trochimczyk — 45
Unexplained Journey — W. C. Gosnell — 46
The Cherry Treev — Lenore Myers — 46
A Tree Speaks: — Angelika Quirk — 48
Amidst the Pines — Kieran Duffy — — — 49
Stream of Consciousness — Carolyn Jabs — 50
If I Were a Dronev —Livingston Rossmoor — 51
With the Eyes of a Falcon — Angelika Quirk — 52
One Moment: — KM Kramer — — — 53
Funambulist — Carlo DiOrio — — — 54
A Turquoise Story — Maja Trochimczyk — 55
Origami: Folded Light — Shahrzad Taavoni — 56
When the Prophet Comes Home — Livingston Rossmoor — 57
The Splendor of the Ever Gate — William R. Ford Jr. — 58
Born Wrong Century — Michael J. Galko — 58
Tycho’s Star — Christine Candland — — 59
Contributors in Alphabetical Order — — 60
CSPS Contest Opportunities — — — 60
CSPS Newsbriefs 2025, No. 3 by Maja Trochimczyk — 63
Publishing Opportunities with CSPS — — 65
2024 CSPS Donors, Patrons, and Membership — 66
Membership Form — — — — — 68
EDITOR’S NOTE
While visiting the Turquoise Museum in Albuquerque, NM, I found that my turquoise pendant I inherited from my Mom— perfectly smooth, more green than aqua—mostly likely came from a Nishapour mine in Iran. My Dad bought the jewel in Mosul, Iraq, when he, a Polish engineer, was overseeing the construction and operation of a power plant in the Kurdish city of Mosul, Iraq (yes, the same power plant that Americans reduced to rubble during their war of “Weapons of Mass Destruction”). Indeed, I watched the annihilation of his work on American TV; that plant had provided electricity and jobs to Mosul residents… I felt distressed and strangely relieved that my Dad did not live to see the ruins himself…
Like my turquoise story, poets featured in the Autumn 2025 issue of the CQ capture a full range of emotions— joy, grief, melancholy, child-like wonder, and serenity found in nature and among people. We start our exploration of everyday delights in Bakersfield (Gosnell), then visit a park (Willis), eat freshly-baked bread (Leistner) and taste some noodles (Jeon). We watch children in real life (Bassen) and in old photographs (Larson). The passing of time attracts the poets’ attention (McBride, Sozdinler, Calkins). Some pry open their broken hearts (Hosek, Kahn), others mourn the dead (Bliziniuk, Haines, Ford, Kramer). Nature, as always, provides solace—via birdsong (Rossmoor), wind (Duvey), or the singsong of trees (Myers, Duffy, Quirk)… No sorrow is eternal: consolation may be found in dreams (Baker), flights of fancy (Rossmoor), humor (Doolittle), stars (Candland), being Irish (Walter), or “folded light” (Taavoni).
Continuing the tradition initiated by Margaret Saine, this CQ includes three translations along with original poems in Latin (Eugenius II/Hosek), Polish (Kołodziej/Trochimczyk), and Ukrainian (Blizniuk/Gerasimov). It is perhaps the flavor of the times that five poets feel compelled to hide their gender in initials (D. A., KM, V. P., W. C., and R). This reminds me of a certain belief in reincarnation: timeless souls have both feminine and masculine aspects, but become embodied to go through their lessons in the school of the Earth, one trial after another: first a victim, then the abuser, first a woman, then a man…Thus, the circle turns and the spiral ascends, propelled by wisdom and love.
Maja Trochimczyk, Editor
Los Angeles, California
SAMPLE POEMS
~ after visiting the Turquoise Museum,
Albuquerque, New Mexico
A rock. A white rock with a vein of blue.
An axe. A pickaxe. A shovel.
The bulging muscles of the miner,
covered in dust, stained with the earth.
Earth to earth. Dust to dust.
From earth, they dig out the vivid hues
Of aqua – tranquil sea and azure – summer sky.
They dig, they polish, they arrange
small pieces into sets. Here – a necklace,
there – a bracelet, belt buckle or brooch.
From chalk-white, to verdant, to ice-blue, to navy,
almost indigo – clear and smooth, or covered with
a spiderweb matrix of gold lines – fool’s gold,
mind you – or black, or white, or sienna.
No two pieces of turquoise are the same –
no two persons – unique and so different,
yet connected, with brilliant minds,
flexible bodies, compassionate hearts.
Like turquoise, we, too, are from the Earth.
We, too, carry the sky within.
(c) Maja Trochimczyk
ORIGAMI: FOLDED LIGHT
A quaint square
paper—
reconstructed
into the limitless space of imagination.
Materializing
volumes of boxes.
Shaped like
curved ships
jagged stars
elongated vases
symmetrical flowers.
A magician puffs air—
a three-dimensional balloon
swells, stretching into existence.
A folded crane sleeps.
The journey of dreams
imbues it with celestial life.
Come dawn, the crane flies—
its skin’s creases shifting and shimmering
with blue-blossomed patterns.
(c) Shahrzad Taavoni
WIND
Lying I am in a makeshift bed under the stars in the noise of daylight broad, watching the clouds scud across the sky blue and witnessing an emotion whole new in the air this day. I am dumb struck by its expression and wonder why just it breezed into a tapered envelope of gestures windy and fallen with sounds crunchy as if nothing but the solitary, windy, and Earth deserted is there to greet it. What are its intentions—bluff contempt or a reflection good?
In the blatant silence, it howls in the trees, touching the cheeks of leaves and the spines of crooked branches, embracing their waists. Down the hill, it then blows across grassy meadow pastures, often boggy and near a river, to the village, past oak walkways. In a confused rush along the narrower, winding gravel walks shaded by lindens, it sent up dust clouds and crouched itself in the room's corners while bursting in through the window sashes. It fell for a moment silent as if waiting for a bit of a blow. It shrugged and took a deep breath, expelling air through lips pursed as if by a dreamy languor its whole being was pervaded. With a sigh of boredom in its steps and the heaviness of long-standing existential angst on its chest, it thereupon ran past the puddles, rustling through the low-lying hedge and fallen leaf debris and leaving a moisture-filled trail behind it. Then it blew past in a flurry of activity, fleeting through the ears tiny of seedlings and letting the wildflowers blooming in the herb-rich meadow flutter and dance. Eradicating the long-term layers of musty odour with its freshness, the formless and desireless whispered chanting discreetly, making the welkin blush.
Deepak Dubey
Gorakhpur, Uttar Pradesh, India
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NEWSBRIEFS NO. 3, AUTUMN 2025
This summer, I had an opportunity to attend the annual convention of the National Federation of State Poetry Societies in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was the first appearance of anyone from the California State Poetry Society in the past ten years. The CSPS laboriously pays the NFSPS annual dues of $3 per member, in exchange of lower fees for members who wish to participate in the NFSPS contests. The NFSPS Convention featured two events for State Poetry Societies’ Presidents where I gleaned some new ideas, for instance to celebrate the 250th anniversary of our great country’s by organizing a special anniversary poetry contest – that would focus on “persona” poems written in the voice of any great historical figure from the past.
It was also interesting to hear about the many ways in which the State Poetry Societies have been managing their poetry readings and in-person meetings. This was interesting that, since becoming the CSPS President in 2019, I had learned that our Society, spread out over the great distances of California, has little to no interest in live readings, neither in person, nor via Zoom. Here, each area has a number of long-standing in-person readings organized by various local groups and there is no reason for CSPS to compete with them. Instead, our focus has always remained on the written word – the excellent California Quarterly, which continues to be enjoyed by its readers and contributors, and the colorful, art-filled Poetry Letter with featured poets, monthly contest winners, and book reviews. In particular, the CSPS Board has confirmed its lack of interest in getting involved in “slam poetry” – improvised, live events, mostly by young, politicized, and often very aggressive poets.
After attending the finals of the Blackberry Peach Slam during the NFSPS Convention, I realized that the CSPS Board’s focus on the “printed word” poetry and contests is contrary to the priorities of the NFSPS and may necessitate departing from this Federation. The NFSPS brings together over 30 State Poetry Societies, publishes a quarterly Newsletter with brief reports from the states, manages a website, organizes numerous poetry contests, and creates a variety of national policies. Alas, their recently promulgated policies are quite divergent from our society’s preferences, and therefore cannot be adhered to. Thus, after seeking approval for the separation of California from NFSPS by the Board of Directors this fall, we will bring this to the vote of the membership via online ballots. Please note that the NFSPS does not group all 50 states, and the membership occasionally fluctuates, for instance the state of Wisconsin (where the NFSPS was incorporated) recently left the Federation. This necessitated changing the NFSPS Bylaws that mentioned the state of incorporation (the change was approved).
Maja Trochimczyk, CSPS President
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