– 4/17/19

      Hosted by Kathabela Wilson

      It has been twenty years since I carried the stone up the stairs from the ocean and placed it under a neighbor’s tree. Of course they did not notice. Today I go back.

      worn by the wind
      the same stone

      ~ Kathabela

      Ο Ο Ο

      Heart-shaped stump, Inokashira Park, Tokyo, Japan (Photo -Kathabela Wilson)

      Heart-shaped stump, Inokashira Park, Tokyo, Japan (Photo -Kathabela Wilson)

      Erika Wilk

      Secret from the past

      Was it hunger or the need of sugar that caused me to open a tube of sweetened condensed milk? I sucked from it like a baby at a mother’s breast, fearful of being discovered.

      But I was alone in that dark cellar, sent to fetch some item for the deli above and careful to wipe away any evidence from my mouth. Conserves of fish, meats and capers payed no attention to me, the goose, long neck held with string against her body, cold and dead, there to be roasted the day before Christmas.

      I returned to that sweetness on another day or two until it was gone, then gave the empty tube to the trash.

      around the corner
      we lined up for bread
      and horse meat

      Ο Ο Ο

      Heart-shaped stone, Mesa Lane, Santa Barbara, April, 2019 (Photo - Kathabela Wilson)

      Heart-shaped stone, Mesa Lane, Santa Barbara, April, 2019 (Photo – Kathabela Wilson)

      Dianne Moritz


      After my father left us, Mother took my sister and me to live with Gramma. My first childhood memories are of Gramma, her love, and that two-story, white house with its backyard rose garden, laundry snapping on the nearby clothes-line. Gramma spent lots of time in the kitchen. She loved baking cookies. My favorite were the Swedish rolls, little round balls covered in confectioner’s sugar. On Sunday mornings Gram made several batches to offer her sisters and husbands when they drove from far off Iowa farms for a visit to the city. Everyone gathered in the living room, but when their chatter turned Swedish, I got annoyed. I felt left out as they talked and laughed, usually about things “not fit for little ears.”

      Sunday afternoons
      great aunts visit
      speaking Swedish
      telling secrets
      I never learned

      Ο Ο Ο

      "Having sat just long enough" haiga by kris moon (kondo)

      “Having sat just long enough” haiga by kris moon (kondo)

      kris moon (kondo)

      what is the bag worm
      whispering into the ear
      of the buddah


      having sat
      long enough to become one
      with lichen & moss


      peeling back the years with just a fingertip

      Ο Ο Ο

      "Bag worm whispering in Buddha's ear" (Photo - kris moon (kondo))

      “Bag worm whispering in Buddha’s ear” (Photo – kris moon (kondo))

      Devin Harrison

      in dreams I retrace
      twisting paths
      back to beginnings–
      the secrets I keep
      even from myself

      Ο Ο Ο

      Time passing itself (Photo - Tom Clausen)

      Time passing itself (Photo – Tom Clausen)

      Tom Clausen

      all the time
      ending and beginning
      the universe




      always now…


      straight out
      of a dream
      another day

      Ο Ο Ο

      Secrets From the Past: Quotes and Credits

      Erika Wilk: “One month before the end of WW2 my mother, I, and my siblings, fled from Berlin to Salzburg to live with grandmother. I grew up in that magical city. The sound of air raids and bombs was replaced by music and beauty. The war ended, food ration were imposed, American soldiers handed out candy and chewing gum, and all in all things were tolerable. There were many mouths to feed , eight children, three of them orphaned, from three families all living in the same large apartment. I don’t recall ever going hungry. We often had polenta with tomato sauce but fruit was a rarity.” Now, after sixty years in California, Erika is still able to read and write in her native language but prefers English…it is so much easier! A sixty year resident of Pasadena, CA, she plans to stay put.

      Dianne Moritz writes poetry and picture books for children from her home in Southampton, NY. She cherishes memories of her childhood in Iowa with her Gramma and wishes she had asked more questions.

      Devin Harrison: “In an effort to unearth my past, I follow my dreams, but there is no release. Illusion surrounds me and keeps me from knowing myself.” Devin lives in Vancouver Island, British Columbia, where he practices a minimalist lifestyle. Much of his time is spent wandering in the forests

      kris moon (kondo) is an artist/poet living by a mountain stream which becomes a raging river during typhoons in Kiyokawa Village. She went to Japan by ship in 1972 where she has lived most of her life. “It is at the turnoff of the main road going through the village, to go to my place, not even 4 minutes from where I live.”

      Tom Clausen: “On an afternoon bike ride I suddenly came across time passing itself along Burns Road on the roadside…such a strange sight to find as I rode up the hill.” Tom Clausen lives in Ithaca, NY. He worked at the Mann Library of Cornell University. Now, he’s a well known and published poet. He walks the woodlands finding secrets of the past and present to share with us from his daily adventures.


      We welcome and encourage your response, especially in the form of a short poem, by leaving a comment below.

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        • Kathabela Wilson

          Kathabela Wilson is a local poet/writer/artist and musician. Her Poets Salon has become an international respected must read in the poetry world. She's the creator and host of the Pasadena-based group, “Poets on Site.”

          Colorado Boulevard is your place for enlightening events, informative news and social living for the greater Pasadena area.
          We strive to inform, educate, and work together to make a better world for all of us, locally and globally.

        • Latest posts by Kathabela Wilson

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      1. Giselle Maya says:

        OH FOR ME THIS THEME WAS ESPECIALLY TOUCHING the KOKORO – SO MANY SECRETS OF THE PAST — like pounding mochi with my daughter at New Year’s in Japan, invited by a Japanese couple to a tea ceremony in Kyoto at a temple spontaneously, so very moving watching a young monk do the intricate movements to prepare tea i had just studied at the Tea School; a Hanami to which my friends in Kyushu had invited me – where i was asked to make tea in the ceremonial way for All her guests! etc. etc. no end to secrets of the Past and Present — i often thought of living in Japan – now i enjoy life in Provence.

      2. alexnodopaka2 says:

        I don’t know what’s it’s all about antiques.
        I fished out my pond an Aztec terracotta
        without an arm due to its falling in.
        It was made last year in Tijuana and voila
        I have a slimy aged artifact with green patina
        to the tip of its cracked nose.

      3. Both of us can't look good...it's either me or the house - Benita Kape says:

        I always love coming here to The Poets Salon but today was really special. Thank you Kathabela and thank you to all the writers/artists.

      4. diannemoritz says:

        Beautiful! I am so pleased to be here along with these gifted writers.
        Thank you, Kathabela!

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