Writers of Kern

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Annis Cassells

1 May 2019 | NPM WebPoetrySlam: And One to Grow On

By 

 
 Lilacs 
  
 I remember that lilacs enfolded the night
 in a soft June kiss,
 a never-never land
 of love in a candy store.
 They floated like clouds of stingless bees
 in mesmeric rivers of honey
 around your tender face.
 There was a sound like water falling
 or clusters of little bells
 or birds about to sing.
 Sometimes I touch that lilac night
 when your grave opens,
 when dreams take us deep, deep
 to love without time, without loss.
  
 ~ Helen Shanley

Helen Shanley was program director for Writers of Kern for many years. She may have been one of the founders of WOK. She held poetry writing critique group at her home and influenced a number of poets in our community, including Portia Choi.  More of Shanley’s poems can be found at kernpoetry.com in the section “tribute to Helen.” Submitted by Portia Choi.

30 April 2019 | National Poetry Month WebPoetrySlam

By 

 Woman roar
  
  
 I am woman and you will hear me roar
 My thunder won’t be overlooked no more 
 I have given you chance enough
 I have given you opportunity enough
 I have given you time enough
 But you refuse to open your eyes
 Refuse to identify a Queen for what she is
 A force to be reckoned with
 A lightning bolt on the mountain of injustice
 Cracking open the peak and revealing the truth of your nature
 I am woman and you will hear me roar
 The news can’t prepare you for my storm
 Your institutions and man-caves 
 can’t protect you from my storm
 My tornado has shaken even the most prejudiced of souls
 My tornado has shattered
 fragile masculinity time and time again
 My tornado has shredded
 unlawful laws to pieces
 My tornado has broken
 the knees of those bowing to false beliefs
 My tornado has led chained brothers through the tunnels of hell 
 All the way to freedom
 My tornado has awakened the vocal cords of fellow sisters 
 and from them came hymns of pure beautiful power
 I am woman and you will hear me roar
 You will have no choice but to look into the eye of my storm
 This tsunami that has been building inside me
 Is far more justified than your wall
 And will crash through each and every last brick
 The brick of inequality
 The brick of misogyny 
 The brick of racism
 The brick of sexism
 The brick of prejudice
 The brick of sexual assault and abuse
 The brick of discrimination
 The brick of homophobia
 The brick of bigotry
 The brick of hatred
 And even that seemingly unmovable brick of silence
 My waves will tear down all this injustice 
 And with them 
 Will come a sea of change
 I am woman
 I am my roar
  
 ~ Z

Hello, I’m Zainab, but you can call me Z. I’m just a 19-year-old girl blessed with hazelnut skin, an electric Brain, and a love for life, trying my best to write about what I know to be true.

29 April 2019 | National Poetry Month WebPoetrySlam

By 

 Stewing
                                                                                                             
 Onions sliced
 potatoes diced
 into the caldron of my mind.
  
 Bitter resentment knowing
 my time is your time:
 Cooking time.
 cleaning time.
  
 Who are the great artists, writers?
  
 Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Picasso, Shakespeare, Lao Zu.
 Then there were the Eliots:  T.S. and George,
 and the Emilys:  Dickinson and Bronte.
  
 Did they cook, clean for others?
  
 Slowly simmering woman’s anger, boiled madness released 
  into the air.
 Onions bring tears to the eyes, a reaction to the acid 
  of reality,
 softened to sweetness with the warmth of a child’s hug.
  
 Potatoes with covered eyes peeled, raw and crunchy, become 
  hearty
 morsels with heat of writing;
  
 slowly cooking, mixing the flavors into a palatable stew.
  
 ~ Portia Choi

Portia Choi hosts the monthly First Friday Open Mic at Dagny’s and publicizes events during National Poetry Month in April.  She administers www.kernpoetry.com.  She published a chapbook of her poems Sungsook, Korean War Poems. Her poems are published in multiple journals.  She can be contacted at [email protected]

28 April 2019 | National Poetry Month WebPoetrySlam

By 

 
Fair Air
  
 Summer morning ritual 
 unseal the house 
 gather chilled dawning air
 As if I could store it, harbor it 
 to fight a Bakersfield afternoon.
 As if it would stay, soothe
 us when the sun’s rays bullet
 through double-paned windows.
 As if dust motes and particulates
 dominant in this toxic air 
 could be quelled
 by a bite or two of coolness.
 As if fair air could survive ‘til noon.
  
 Alarm disarmed, 
 its eye once red 
 like the last barbeque coal,
 turns green, 
 signals accessible doorways, 
 promises of small cool breezes.
 I push back wide vertical blinds, 
 pull open the leaden slider, 
 invite the false freshness in.
  
 I glance at the thermometer
 mounted on the patio post
 past wooden art-filled fences
 beyond neighboring rooftops. 
 Above the trees
 a fresh sun greets me.
  
 In this land of lung-searing summers,
 allergens, penetrating dust,
 and deadly defoliants,
 chilled morning air 
 dulls memories of discomfort. 
 I am at home. 

~ Annis Cassells

Annis Cassells has been a member of Writers of Kern for many years. This spring she published her first poetry collection, You Can’t Have It All, available on Amazon.com and locally at Russo’s Books.

27 April 2019 | National Poetry Month WebPoetrySlam

By 


 Final Honor

  It is time to lay this soldier to rest.
 In somber silence
 the path is traveled.
 Comrades offer a crisp salute
 as they line the way.
 The repeated crack of rifles,
 spent shells flying;
 a bugle’s mournful song.
 The folded flag, presented,
 and another hero is gone from our sight,
 laid to rest with honor and respect.
 It is done. 
 
~ Sandy Moffett
  
  
  

Sandy Moffett has been a writer and lyricist for more than 45 years.  She has been published in, Mortuary Management and International Mortuary and Cemetery Management; Cup of Comfort: Devotional for Mothers and Daughters and Chicken Soup for the Soul: Angels Among Us.