Earlier in the summer I was published by the Los Angeles Press. The theme was The Chain and I sent in a poem that I wrote in a chain format called And Like a Chain. It’s one of my favorite poems and I was happy it found a home with The Los Angeles Press, editor Linda Ravenswood. 🙂 Here is a link to the site you can purchase the issue I’m in. click here
I just received my copy of this anthology on cinema, “Silver Screen Reflections: Writings on Film,” edited by Kareem Tayyar. It is packed with poems, essays, and short fiction about the movies! I am so pleased to be included. If you want a copy for yourself or for your favorite movie-poet lover, it’s available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, among other places. My contributions are two poems: “City Limits” and “At The Drive-In.” I hope you enjoy them!
So grateful to be included in this final 50th edition issue of Nerve Cowboy. What a great publication. It was one of those magazines I aspired to be in after my professor introduced me to it. So it was with great hope I stamped and mailed my last submission and with great joy months later I receieved an acceptance letter from them.
The inaugural issue of A Moon of One’s Own is out today! The editor, Shannon Phillip is amazing and has done a terrific job curating this first issue. And… I have three poems in it. Take a look here. But please look at the whole issue–it is luminous.
Thank you to Lynne Thompson and Patricia Smith for accepting this poem in Spillway #29. Get your copies here!
Watch my videohaku, Liminal Life 1, on Thrush Poetry Journal, November 2011 issue. (Thank you, Thrush <3 )
Be sure to check out all the poetry on Thrush. It’s a terrific publication. So happy to be included. 🙂
New series of haiku poems on artist trading cards–Ice Cream Haiku! 🙂
This form is called Haiga – the Japanese concept of combining poetry and simple pictures.
2021 mixed media/poems by Kimberly Esslinger
I am full of listening.
Brittle with more.
Weak rooted. Rotted.
Rot from the inside.
Do you hear me when I stop listening.
When it spills out.
When it spoils.
Last night in the mountains the stars dimmed.
It was clouds clouds clouds
And I was wondering if you touched my hand
would it be enough to stop the noise inside of me?
The righteous chattering
of caws and crows.
The dry thin air pumping my heart full
of nothing.
Eating dinner. Trying to find conversation.
You took me to a corner in a crowded cafeteria and ate silently.
Everything said.
Unsaid.
The life of the party. The silent wife.
She says, I feel like you want something I’m not giving you.
