Sunday, August 7, 2016


 Marsha Dela O is interviewed by M.B. Hanrahan


 http://ourventura.com/resonance-and-a-heightened-sense-of-meaning-through-poetry/

Saturday, October 19, 2013

A compliment from Dane Baylis



http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nr3YwjcHc2I/UKxIfq4RfhI/AAAAAAAAAFk/2XuznPI_DGk/s1600/IMG_0059.JPG
The author, Dane F. Baylis

EVER MORE EXQUISITE NOISE

Let's move on to another of the ASKEW POETRY JOURNAL, Issue #14 poets. At this time I would like to present Tim Tipton. Tim is a unique younger voice in the Askew pantheon and is already making a name in the Southern California scene. His recent chapbook, "LATE NIGHT BREATHING" was the winner of the 2013 San Gabriel Valley Poetry Festival Chapbook Contest. He read his poem "DIRTY WEEKEND" for the Askew event.
___________________________________________________________________________







                                                           DIRTY WEEKEND

                                        I had a dirty weekend with a total stranger
                                        We stopped at a little bungalow by the sea
                                        that hummed to itself.
                                        We climbed up a jacaranda tree
                                        and sat in the branches until our hair was
                                        covered with purple buds.
                                        We climbed down and slithered through the mud,
                                        pretending to be seeds.
                                        We sprayed each other with a garden hose
                                        and the water caught sunlight so that we rinsed in
                                        showers of liquid rainbows.
                                        We ate banana and peanut butter sandwiches,
                                        played music and pretended to surf on the bed
                                        under sharp salty sweat air.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Rest in Peace Joyce

Joyce LaMers
 
      New Book Says Atheists Can Go To Heaven          
                          - headline in the Los Angeles Times
 
So, if I never tell a lie
I’ll go to heaven when I die
St Peter with his welcome grin
Is pretty sure to let me in.
I’ll sit right there at God’s right hand.
My harp will join the angels’ band.
I’ll skim the clouds on feathered wings
and harmonize when Jesus sings,
so full of grace I wont much care
that none of this is really there.
 
Joyce LaMers on youtube
“I’m in Love with Tiger Woods”
 
“Anabel Lee Does a Postmortem on the Hazards
of Romance with a Metrical Poet”

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Presenting Larry Colker

 Larry Colker spent his formative years in Huntington, WV. 
He was a teacher for a dozen years, from preschool through university, 
before he switched to technical writing, editing and training. His 
poems have appeared in The Sun, The Los Angeles Review, RATTLE, 
Brickbat Revue, Spillway, ONTHEBUS, Solo, Pearl, Cider Press 
Review, Blue Satellite and elsewhere in print; online at The
Cortland Review, King Log, nthposition, poeticdiversity and 
Poetry Super Highway; and in anthologies from Tebot Bach, 
Valley Contemporary Poets, Arroyo Arts Collective, poeticdiversity,
and The Little Joy Open Mic. In 2003 he published his chapbook 
What the Lizard Knows: New and Selected Poems. In 2005 his
poem "The Caterpillars" was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. 
In 2006 he and poet/photographer/artist  Danielle Grilli published a joint chapbook, Hunger Crossing. He was the 2006 poetry winner of the
California Writers Exchange contest sponsored by Poets & Writers,
Inc. He resides in San Pedro, CA.


Crossing

The warning bell clangs
at the railroad crossing
between his farm and town
as four locomotives
and a hundred boxcars
plow across his path.

He waits in his truck.
The orange soda in his hand still effervesces,
the color of sunlit ocean in a travel brochure.

He imagines the boxcars full of excelsior
bound for cities
where there is much to put in boxes,
much to cushion from shock,
much to send to distant loved ones.

When the gate rises
the soda is flat.
He pushes on,
crossing the tracks.

© 1998 Larry Colker



Ladies and Gentlemen: Polly Bee



Polly Bee: Ojai poet for whom writing poetry is a high equal only
to that of riding a mule down the Grand Canyon or flying in a
helicopter nose-to-nose with Mt. Denali. She was made a poet
laureate this year.  Here she is reading her poem Sometimes
at night: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vILGX4HSbK4




 Polly Bee with her companion 

Presenting Lisa Coffman

 Lisa Coffman grew up in East Tennessee and currently 
lives on California’s Central Coast—two locales that inspire 
and color her work. She has received fellowships for her poetry
from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Pew Charitable
Trusts, the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts, and Bucknell 
University’s Stadler Center for Poetry. Her first collection of 
poetry, Likely, won the Stan and Tom Wick Poetry Prize from 
Kent State University Press. Her work has appeared in numerous 
literary magazines and anthologies, including Myrrh, Mothwing,
Smoke: Erotic PoemsListen Here: Women Writing in Appalachia;
A Fine Excess: Fifty Years of the Beloit Poetry Journal; and the 
forthcoming Southern Poetry Anthology, Volume VI: Tennessee.
An excerpt from her nonfiction manuscript in progress, “No 
Business, Tennessee,” received the 2010 Ingrid Reti Nonfiction
Prize. She teaches at the California State Polytechnic University
in San Luis Obispo and lives in nearby Los Osos with her husband
Joe and daughter Jenna.


Learning the Butterfly
I like that it is violent.
I like its indiscretion
of noise in the low, tiled room.
I like being a new animal,
shoulders first breaking the water,
jaws closing as I go down.
It is a metaphor for my life
since there is never any balance:
either my bones are pulling me under
or my body, at the last, like a wing beat
is throwing me free of the water.
The instructor says, go slowly,
but my double dolphin kicks are my trumpets
I'm the gold car in the parade of triumph,
I'm the train and its oncoming scream—
I like the other side
and being reduced
to the husking noises of breathing,
then to lift out and pad away, light,
elaborate as an open cage.

Escape Artist by Tim Tipton

Escape artist


You will be gone before I wake 
I’m going to miss you.

Because that’s the way it goes.

I know your work, you are an escape artist.

If I tell you I love you
There goes my ride in the rocket
I will not chain myself to you, don’t worry.
Nothing dangerous will happen.

There will be no loving, I promise.

You are safe.

copyright 2012 Tim Tipton