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Category Archives: poetry

Red Eft Review (again!)

Red Eft Review

So grateful to editor Corey Cook, who has published my poem “Summer Days” in Red Eft Review. (A red eft is the terrestrial juvenile stage in the metamorphosis of the eastern newt of North America.)

Quartet Journal

Quartet Journal has published my poem “Ornament” in the Summer 2021 issue along with a brief explanation. (The poem appears not quite halfway down the page.) I’m honored to be included in this lovely collection.

found poem: TO EXIST

FERAL: A Journal of Poetry and Art

Hugely pleased to have two of my found poems in Issue 8 of FERAL: A Journal of Poetry and Art, pages 64 and 65. (Just received the hard copy of this impressive journal. It’s large — 8.25″ x 11.625″ — printed on heavy coated stock with lots of images.)

found poem: begin

Sienna Solstice

In honor of the solstice, the new issue of Sienna Solstice is out today, with one of my found poems included (on page 30). Always happy to be part of the celebration, though it seems somehow wrong that today should initiate the shortening of the days.

interview!

If you’re a regular in these parts, you may know that Luther Allen and I co-produce a long-running poetry-reading series, SpeakEasy. Normally held before a live audience here in Bellingham, Washington, SpeakEasy has gone Zoom in the last year, and tomorrow, Saturday, April 24, 2021, at 7:00pm Pacific, we will host SpeakEasy 28: Homecoming with Rena Priest. Rena, who has just been named Washington State Poet Laureate 2021-2023, will be joined by four of her poetry mentors: James Bertolino, Anita K. Boyle, Nancy Pagh, and Jeanne Yeasting. It should be a wonderful evening of poetry. If you’d like to join us, just send an email to othermindpress AT gmail.com and request the Zoom link.

Meanwhile, in the run-up to tomorrow’s event, Margaret Bikman, the doyenne of all-things-arts-and-entertainment in our region, interviewed Luther and me. The 20-minute interview will stream online today, Friday, April 23, and again tomorrow, Saturday, April 24, in the 10:30am hour Pacific time (i.e., sometime between 10:30 and 11:30 it will air, but we can’t provide a more precise time). To listen in, go to KMRE.org or tune in live in Bellingham at 102.3FM. If you miss it, the interview will eventually be posted on Margaret’s Arts & Entertainment Spotlight podcast page.

Hope you’ll join us for one or more of these events in honor of National Poetry Month.

solstice anthology

Enormously pleased to have two poems in the hot-off-the-press anthology, Solstice: Light & Dark of the Salish Sea (Chuckanut Sandstone Press). Edited by Carla Shafer, the collection features the work of 29 poets in two sections, Summer Solstice and Winter Solstice. I have a poem in each section and will be reading the summer poem as part of the online book launch on Sunday, April 11, 2021, at 7:00pm Pacific. The reading is free on Zoom, but advance registration is required. Would love you to join us (and I’ll be reading second, so don’t be late!).

Solstice is available for purchase through Village Books.

tonight.

Should you find yourself otherwise unengaged this evening, Friday, March 26, 2021, at 7:00pm Pacific, Zoom on over to RASP, the Redmond Association of Spokenword, where I’ll be holding forth as the evening’s featured poet. On offer will be some found poems and some conventional-form poems, plus some conversation and a chance to share your own poem(s) during the open-mic portion of the evening. Please join me! (Zoom link here.)

One Sentence Poems

I love the online journal One Sentence Poems and am very grateful when they publish one of mine, including “It’s open,” which has just appeared. (Links to others in the sidebar at left.)

The Inflectionist Review

As promised, yet another poem published: “Lesson” appears in Issue 12 of The Inflectionist Review, edited by John Sibley Williams and A. Molotkov, and alongside numerous poets whose work I admire. Very grateful.

Claw & Blossom

After a quiet spell in February, it looks like there’s a little run of new publications showing up. Very happy to have my poem “Cabin” published in Issue 8 of Claw & Blossom.

gratitude

Tonight! SpeakEasy 27: A Spiritual Thread

If you’re interested in the intersection of poetry and spirit, you may want to Zoom in to this evening’s SpeakEasy 27: A Spiritual Thread. I won’t be reading, but I co-produce the SpeakEasy series with Luther Allen and I think the program will offer considerable food for thought.

Each of the poets — Susan Alexander, Luther Allen, Bruce Beasley, Jennifer Bullis, and Dayna Patterson — will share a poem and comment on the process of writing linked poems.

This will be our first virtual SpeakEasy, but definitely not the last. In fact, the poetry produced for SpeakEasy 27 quickly exceeded the constraints of a single reading, so it will be presented as a series. This program, Saturday, November 14, 2020, 7:00pm Pacific, will be followed by another on Saturday, December 12, with future dates TBA. The sessions will be recorded and available for viewing online.

Participation is free on a first-come, first-serve basis, but you must have a password to access the Zoom room. You can find a more complete description, the poets’ bios, and access information on the SpeakEasy 27 page. (This is also where the videos will be posted.)

poem!

Continuing with the everything-published-at-once theme, here is perhappened magazine, with my poem “Stepping out” published in the brand new mixtape issue. Each of the poems is inspired by a song and links to the songs are provided along with the poems.

close again, but…

The lovely Floating Bridge Press has honored me as one of the finalists in their annual chapbook contest. Here’s what editor Michael Schmeltzer posted on Facebook:

Good morning Washington! We are thrilled to officially announce the winner and finalist of our 2020 Chapbook Competition! After some deliberation, we chose this year’s winner, “The Daughters of Elderly Women” by Brenda Miller of Bellingham, WA, and a finalist, “Posthuman” by Risa Denenberg of Sequim, WA. Both chapbooks will be available by the end of 2020. Please join us in congratulating Brenda and Risa!

A special honorary mention goes to “A Quiet Day With the West on Fire” by Margot Kahn of Seattle!

We’d also like to praise these several finalists, in no particular order, include:
“Apothecary of Desire” by J.I. Kleinberg of Bellingham
“The Missing Ones” by Lauren Davis of Port Townsend
“Instructional Days” by Lucas Wildner of Seattle
“To Have Breathed All These Days” by Jed Myers of Seattle

We are sincerely grateful for the support and patience you have shown us, this year in particular; it was challenging in unpredictable ways and our staff has been managing the best they can (personally and professionally) as I’m sure many of you are, too. Again, thank you.

As the weeks go on you’ll get a chance to get to know the newest authors in the FBP family, Brenda Miller and Risa Denenberg! We are excited to share these lovely chapbooks with you.

Thank you everyone! You keep us floating!

Floating Bridge Press also nominated me for a Best of the Net Award in 2019. Guess I better keep submitting!

another close, but…


Different manuscript, different publisher, and once again
on the finalists list.
Received lots of nice feedback,
but no contract. Yet.
Congratulations to the winners and the finalists of the 2020 Poetry Box Chapbook Prize.

poem

Overtaken by a rash of rhyming and curse as a prompt, I wrote this poem in the other Before-time: before The Election, before 45 was a poisonous number.

Thanks to editor Jerome Betts and Lighten Up Online, it has now found its way into Issue 50 and the world alongside much rhyming, much wry commentary, and some very clever poems.

poem

The evolution

For a while, in the first months
of the pandemic, you feared your hands:

that they might be the engine of your destruction,
grab from the air, from book or doorknob,

newspaper or broccoli, the errant cell calling
to your lungs. Those hands, lathered, rinsed,

laundry hung out in a dust storm, dragged back in,
washed again. And your face, itching, yearning

for them, abandoned lover. Later, the air itself
became suspect and you held your breath on the trail,

in the grocery store, at the mailbox. Yet, shocked
by your isolation, your fear of contamination,

you came to enjoy the whims of unstructured days,
the naps and chickadees and jigsaw puzzles.

You called old friends, cleaned cupboards, ticked tasks
off your list, learned new technology. You had

no passport, no visa for the country called the future.
The microorganism would stamp your documents,

or not. So you gardened as if someone else
might harvest the beautiful purple peapods,

the lettuce, even the sudden radishes.
And then, as predictions became less dire,

you discovered a new fear:
that life would return to normal.

© J.I. Kleinberg

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