by Portia Choi | Jan 25, 2017 | Interviews, Kern County Poet, news, Poems
Story by Portia Choi Nancy Edwards passed away on January 5, 2017. Nancy was a poet. She was also a professor of English at Bakersfield College from 1968-2009. When poets and friends of poets were informed of her passing, there was a profound sense of loss. This...
by Portia Choi | Jan 11, 2017 | Featured Poet, Pictures, Poems
[Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”27″ gal_title=”open mic january 2017″] story by Portia Choi On the First Friday of January 2017, the featured poets at Dagny’s Coffee were Joseph Mosconi, Barry Michael and Maryah Paige Chester. They read from their...
by Portia Choi | Jan 5, 2017 | Featured Poet, Interviews, Pictures, Poems
[Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”26″ gal_title=”chris fendt”] Story by: Martin Chang Photos by: Greg D. Cook and Martin Chang top box photo provided by Chris Fendt Chris Fendt is inspired by different aspects of life. For Fendt, a chance...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
When I was ten my art teacher said the pink and blue ribbons I loved were not beautiful, then showed us Mexican olla and said, “Now that’s beautiful!” and posters were beautiful. and vermillion with spring green. For years I bought ugly art and wore ugly prints that...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
(the woman asked the famed psychiatrist) The cat at night in Malibu Makes a soft sound As he moves along the ground, Echoes the rumble, the growl and pound Of the Cat to Cathay— When the Moon ruffles his fur In a silver streak down the dark, She is stirring, subduing,...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
Make me a poem A great white poem words full of rushing staccato measures patterns for flying and movement of grasses— or round, like the path of the tuning-fork’s sound, round and liquid and gold. Give me the voices of wandering people, let them incense me with...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
Do not remove the heart. Extract the brain through open nostrils, but leave the paradise within my heart of hearts. It is a point so hot it would burn your fingers. This pulse-point is the drum of Shiva calling Shakti –and when she dances my heart rises to the...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
Your blue-veined hands swept all things into light; a box of apricots, a peeled grape, a sick dog that had to be chloroformed, a child to be led down hallways of ideas up staircases of words –anything to be fixed, mended, made out of nothing. How could you whirl...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
Goodness flowed from her fingers; blossomed in dresses made out of nothing, in fresh juice over ice (hand-chipped for my fevers), in home-made noodles and chicken broth with delicate chicken feet. The same patient fingers traced words as she read, and placed dominoes...
by Portia Choi | Aug 8, 2015 | Poems
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...
