Showing posts with label Bright Skies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bright Skies. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Praise for "Bright Skies" by Maja Trochimczyk - Escoubas, Hitt, Skiles, Galasso, Dobay


Video from Poetry Reading at Village Poets' Monthly Reading, 
Bolton Hall Museum,  Tujunga, 20 July 2025, with "Bright Skies" poems: 
Part 1 https://youtu.be/YGpYyao7-Uo

Bright Skies. Selected Poems by Maja Trochimczyk, published in May 2022 continues to attract positive attention and praise. 

Michael Escoubas, in a February 2023 review in online journal Quill and Parchment complimented the poet's idea of writing a book for her two new granddaughters, to read when they grow up and wrote:

 "Moonrise Press has produced Bright Skies on high quality stock, perfect for reproducing fine typography and full-color artwork. Featuring seasonal transitions supported by landscape and botanical imagery, Bright Skies rewarded me with each turn of the page. Wallace Stevens, among the premier poets of the last century has written, “The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.” Bright Skies is structured, whether consciously or not, with Stevens’ dictum in mind. Trochimczyk quite literally offers “her” world in word and image. [...]          

Maja Trochimczyk asserts “I am a positive poet.” She means that she looks for and finds the good in life: good in family, good in faith, good in nature and the world. How refreshing, this infusion of light, in a world that oftentimes seems dominated by bad news. For Trochimczyk, the world is beautiful and has value. She highlights a world that is worth redeeming. While acknowledging the flawed nature of existence, she does not “live” there. She dwells in light.[...] Trochimczyk’s body of work bears witness to a mature writing style which uses all the tools in a poet’s toolbox. Most importantly, however, is the mind and heart from which her poems spring. Her substantive ideas are accessible." 

 The reviewer cited selected poems that impressed him: "A Springtime Revelation," "A Pear in a Tree," "Diamonds, "Gifts," and a fragment of "I Give You the World" written earlier for Maja's first grandson, Adam. Let's read the first of these poems in its entirety:

A Springtime Revelation

I love my mountains
blue and spring green, still
under clear azure expanse.
Their velvet pleats pile up
in layers above the valley rocks,
pathways in empty riverbed.

This is the Earth— naked,
free of trees and houses, of rush
and pavement and cars on hot asphalt
in L.A. summers— this is pure repose
— serenely breathing, slowly, deeply
in the cycle of centuries, eons.

I love my mountains—
the bluish shadows on distant slopes
manzanita and sage scattered
close-by. The hills open like curtains
into infinity to let me in—beyond the next
peak, the next canyon, into new worlds
that thrive in golden sunlight, expand under
the cool glow of spiraling galaxies before dawn.

I’m here, I found my life waiting for me
under the indigo cupola outlined
with deep purple at the ridges—here
crickets measure the night as they sing
“we are here   here here here     here here”
while birds sleep, hidden among branches.

Only distant waves of truck noise
from the freeway remind me that
this paradise of mine, this fluid, living
folding and unfolding is my L.A. home
hidden in a strange metropolis,
my own La La Land of bare mountains,
and the brightest of sunlit gardens.


At the time of publication, the first Poet Laureate of Sunland Tujunga, Marlene Hitt, wrote the following: 

"From pears in a California garden to a recipe from her Polish grandmother for pickled pears, Maja Trochimczyk leads her readers into a lovely world. She sees the beauty of a rose, a bird, a sunrise. She has brought her childhood memories from faraway Poland into the splendid light of Southern California. Woven into each poem is a word picture, accompanied by a photograph of local scenes from her neighborhood – Big Tujunga Wash, Descanso Gardens, Oxnard Beach. These wonderful, heart-warming poems are full of exquisite metaphors and images, where spirituality comes through clearly, without labels, devotions, or being overly didactic. 

My favorites, “Mason Bees” and “On Landscapes: A Guidebook,” bring together vivid descriptions of Nature with inspirational life-lessons that Nature imparts. They are  perfect in substance, style and language. Seeking contentment in domestic life – peaceful home and garden – is an important message for everyone today. The book includes even an original version of marriage vows and ends with a surprise: a selection of old-fashioned recipes for traditional Polish dishes mentioned in poems. Readers will grow in knowledge of beauty and joy surrounding them, shared in daily doses of bliss. "

~ Marlene Hitt, poet and historian, author of "Clocks and Water Drops"

"Mason Bees" and "On Landscapes: A Guidebook" were posted on Trochimczyk's poetry blog, Poetry Laurels, so there's no need to copy them here. 


Poet Dorothy Skiles of Sacramento,CA, wrote the following about the book:

"Maja Trochimczyk’s new poetry book, Bright Skies, tells a beautiful story in photos, in prose, and in poems. She does not only see with her eyes, but with her mind, heart and soul as well. Her book, a celebration of God’s earth in all its beauty, respects all living things. Throughout this rich collection of poems and photographs, there is an intimacy, a warmth, a caring by the narrator towards the object she describes, for instance in Double Delight, a charming poem about a rose from her garden. This  personal tone keeps the reader engaged.

I had to smile when reading A Day Trip to Venice, CA. In the summer of 1967, the year I discovered I like writing poems, I’d arrive at Venice Beach around 10:00 am. I would park myself in the sand with my guitar, folk music and a writing pad. I’d sing, write poetry, and body surf until the afternoon. Then, I’d change into my cotton candy uniform and work from 4:00 pm to midnight at Pacific Ocean Park. What a life! I’m glad Maja’s poem brought back this happy memory of my youth. This magic of poetry stems from the skill of the poet. I believe that Trochimczyk's book will live on, for it is full of life, full of wonder, full of wisdom!"  


Another positive review appeared in CSPS Poetry Letter No. 3, 2022. William Scott Galasso also found plenty to praise in this colorful volume of poems and photographs.

"In these uncertain times, when the world wobbles on its axis between pandemics, climate change and war, taxing our ability to cope, Maja Trochimczyk, presents us with her antidote, Bright Skies, Selected Poems. The book is divided into five sections: Spring, Summer, Babie Lato, Autumn and Winter. She created this generous volume (her ninth) as a gift to her children, grandchildren and for those of readers fortunate to read it. Every poem celebrates the incomparable beauty, diversity and healing power of nature--giving us reason for hope.[...]  

In addition, she compliments her literary art with a visual artist’s eye for light, color, shape in the exquisite detail of her photography. The photographs on glossy paper present in minute detail every subject she turns her attention to. Further, her knowledge of local flora and fauna verges on the encyclopedic presenting us with an abundance of riches, which inform her life and work, writing poetry is like growing artichokes from a seed of invention.

Whether one perceives dewdrops on a rose, the wind swirl of a kite in cerulean skies or, an incoming wave bursting from a turquoise sea, one is moved and that’s the point. She presents all five senses and dares you to fully engage—and to be moved."

~ William Scott Galasso, review excerpt from Poetry Letter No. 3, 2022

"An Artichoke of a Poem" was posted on Trochimczyk's Poetry Laurels blog, "Flying kites..." can also be found there, and several blogs presented poems about ocean waves.


Hungarian-American painter Susan Dobay was so inspired with the philosophy of life that Trochimczyk hid among the beauties of garden and California landscape, that she wrote the following:

"Bright Skies poems have the highest intensity expressed in an enjoyable poetic , artistic way. From Bright Skies poetry I am learning to listen to nature with an open mind and heart. The poems of Bright Skies are pointing to a higher awareness level while giving an utmost ecstatic pleasure to the  senses. The simultaneous expression of biological love making and spiritual love are in perfect harmony. Maja’s poems are stimulation... inspiration to listen to the essence of nature.  This book creates harmony in the heart.  The colorful  photos are expressing visually the richness of the poems."

~ Susan Dobay, painter


ISBN 978-1-945938-49-8, color paperback
US Trade (6 x 9 in / 152 x 229 mm), 184 Pages
85 poems, 160 color photographs, 6 portraits
ISBN 978-1-945938-52-8, eBook in ePub format
ISBN 978-1-945938-54-2 color hardcover.

Preface and Table of Contents, with sample poems:

Maja Trochimczyk Reads "From Minium Chronicles", "Ocean of Jade" and "On Landscapes: A Guidebook" from the book on YouTube: https://youtu.be/m0i17jPRPLs

Maja Trochimczyk Reads Poems from "Bright Skies" on YouTube:







Thursday, December 1, 2022

Moonrise Press Announces Nominations for Pushcart Prize 2022

Crystal Fire poets at the opening of Sky Garden Exhibit, Scenic Drive Gallery, Oct 16, 2022
Mary Elliott, Bory Thach, Marlene Hitt, Alice Pero, Joe DeCenzo, Ambika Talwar and Maja Trochimczyk

Moonrise Press is pleased to announce its nominations to the Pushcart Prize 2022. We submitted six nominations to Pushcart Prizes 2022 mostly from the Crystal Fire anthology. The anthology editor stated: "Since all poems in the book are excellent, my focus was the jury: what poems do the Pushcart Prize committee NEED to read for their own spiritual benefit?" 

Therefore, five poems were selected from Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom. In addition, one poem was selected from Maja Trochimczyk's Bright Skies. Selected Poems. 

The poems nominated for Pushcart Prizes 2022 are as follows: 

1. From Crystal Fire: “Migration” by Bory Thach

2. From Crystal Fire: “A Room Full of Boxes” by Marlene Hitt

3. From Crystal Fire: “If I Rise” by Alice Pero

4. From Crystal Fire: “At Times, I Find Myself in Time” by Jeff Graham

5. From Crystal Fire:  “Joy in a Careless Breeze” by Ambika Talwar

6. From Bright Skies: "Matka Boska Zielna" by Maja Trochimczyk


Congratulations to all the nominees! Their poems are copied below. In some cases, the layout is not correct online and cannot be fixed. Apologies to the poets. 


Bory Thach reads at the closing of Sky Garden Exhibit, November 20, 2022

Bory Thach

Migration 


Feel the warm breeze taking a rest 

Among woods and valleys.

The ground is rich soil that leads 

Into one shimmering blue lake.

 

Steps ripple in the water 

That surrounds mountains. 

The setting sun illuminates 

A cloud-covered sky,

 

Tree leaves become golden 

Phoenix feathers.

Evening darkens to night, 

Letting go of the chaos

 

Allows for true freedom. 

Dreams continue with 

The writing brush chasing 

Memories.

 

Taste the newly brewed wine 

Of life, untainted by pollution. 

Amidst scattered clouds, 

Swans are journeying home— 

The mind can’t help but join them.


(c) by Bory Thach

This poem was selected for submission to the Pushcart Prize committee. However, another poem was nominated as the best poem in the entire anthology by fellow poet Mary Elliott. It is quite a honor, so here's the second poem by Bory Thach. 

Memory 


Sometimes, under a full moon, 

raise a cup to the clear sky in holy 

reverence. Pray for lover’s safe return

Intoxicated by loneliness—

I can hear you sing, 

ever so softly.

 

Time passes by like flowing water, 

like the cold edge of a blade against 

my skin. I speak with joy. I laugh.

Turn around and look 

at the lifetime

of passion.

 

Let us be carefree. Let’s wander 

toward the horizon. I only wish

for all my days to be as bright as you.

Even in my dreams, your eyes 

guide me with light. I can stay 

in this world 

forever.


(c) Bory Thach


Marlene Hitt reads at Sky Garden Exhibit opening, with Maja Trochimczyk

Marlene Hitt

A Room Full of Boxes

 

If that box could be mine, I would fill it
with love letters or needles and colored threads.

The tiny silver one I would fill
with pink face powder to put in a purse.

I wouldn’t take the wormwood chest,
its lock closed, rusted on, keyless,

 

for it is not the box, but the treasure within; 

that box camera, a photo inside still unseen,

 

a thin case, long and narrow, to carry pencils 

and a pink eraser, water color paints.

 

Lying open on a table, a hand carved chest invites 

and I crawl in. Someday, maybe, this chest will     


                hide beneath the seed of an oak
                stay unfound until the oak has aged to forest tall,


then fall from a lightning fire, a storm 

which pulls it screaming from its roots.


                Where the chest still hides, open.


Alice Pero reads at the opening of Sky Garden Exhibit, October 16, 2022

Alice Pero

If I Rise


If I rise up past the sun 
I will keep a point 
down in the green
I will not cast all my anchors up 
I will still touch
the tiny trees that sway 
the weeping branches

If I hide behind the moon 
dark shadows paint
on planet’s hills, beam
a long ray on moon’s quiet
I will still leave
my thought, brush 
the wings of birds 
in Earth flight 
Form greeting

If I try to fathom space
 mark deep traces
in the unknown
I will not rise up forever
past the fallen friends 
remaining loved ones grieving
Those caught in Earth’s
endless turning

 

           I will catch the silver
           of the dep and silent sky
           I will bring a treasure home 
           to touch the earth, each eye


Raaga for Himalayan Sunrise by Ambika Talwar

Jeff Graham


At Times, I Find Myself in Time

 

1

The beginning must begin some-where/time. 

And before the beginning begins, the nothing— 

immaterially substantial—must end,

must slip

from what isn’t is to what wasn’t will be,

into and out from (thus through) being— 

existent to exist—

to what can/will/has never be/been again.

It might be that I have begun. I may be so that I may.

 

2

hour by hour,

none but the emergence of The Hours. 

The present becomes the present

when I go where I am to go

when I am to go there 

in order to find myself,

if not where I had thought,

then some juncture equally important,

as being where and when I may

(or may not) be is integral,

is the most that I can ask for.

 

3

Unfixed form of time’s spheroid lattice, 

of time’s fluidity of flux,

where my waited-for world

is fashioned and recast for the first time…

again.

Now is never now,

since the present becomes the next now; 

thus, the now-next

departing into a sequence of future presents, 

unendingly next and now

and now and then.

 

4

Time, whose beginning and end are its middle, 

whose middle is always the middle for me, 

whose lapses are where time is crossed by time, 

whose crossings connect a cross-stitch of lives.

I wake to each existence,

to existence’s every,

to and from the ether of dreams’ to-and-from, 

out from and back to the day’s midway.

 

5

Memories of tomorrow, aspirations for yesterday. 

Genesis comingles with the end’s remnants.

I move through time that moves me

and moves me through,

retrograde through past to meet the ever-presence 

of what come—

sightless as blinding—

for me to chance to grasp that after the aftermath, 

what is will never was.

Tomorrow unended, yesterday unbegins.

 

6

And the day’s minusculia amalgamates 

with the blinding silence of yesternext. 

Narration of oblivion and the single motion 

as progenitor of all future maneuvers, 

including the crawl of the day‘s‘ sun(s) 

traversing an alternate continent of sky.

After the ending ends, I falter to find

that the shadow on the sundial is only my own 

while I stand steadfast to look at the time,

hat it’s just the beginning begun to begin

again,

that it’s just another always, as usual

as never.

 

7

No—tomorrow. No happy endings.

Yet, tomorrow I will say tomorrow again

since it will simply be a day, such as a day is such. 

Yesterday: the ghost of a legion of thoughs.

Today: configurations of wasn’ts and will-nots, 

desperately hunting the omnipresent elusivity

of is.

Today is tomorrow’s yesterday; therefore, 

yesterday is inevitably tomorrow’s today. 

No happy endings, not due to sorrow,

but since nothing ends.

Elseless, I become the momentary.



(c) Jeff Graham


Ambika Talwar


  Joy in a Careless Breeze

 

Oh! Where are the forests       and lakes

I long for? Ripple         of feathered wings 

and curls of water       that sing. Wishbone 

afloat. Smudge of dust      on our faces 

knees and hands that        clasped walls 

of rock, mud, fossils, language of lichen.

 

Rain-song on my head      We sing soaked

drenched with joy       untrammeled as wing

bone. Oh! Where            the forestsand lakes

I belong for?         Fragrance of wet wood 

cedar trickling  with fresh breath rising 

of latent wilderness           whose heart 

beats in mine own.     I must walk far

 

from here to there      where wisdom beads 

fall from treetops         scattering auburn leaves 

on unaware sleepers.         Where are the forests

where we can sprawl random as a forgotten 

daisy lost as a forest flower about to burst– 

bloom with limitless        joy in a careless breeze?

 

 

 

Prana, ruah, chi…

breath stirs in all directions

 shimmering new leaves

 
(c) by Ambika Talwar


Maja Trochimczyk with "Crystal Fire" and "Bright Skies" at the Sky Garden Exhibition
November 5, 2022, Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia

Maja Trochimczyk 

Matka Boska Zielna

 

~ for Mother of God of the Herbs (August 15)

 

Look at the greening hill slopes charred by last year’s wildfire

that’s magic. Look at the mountain sunflower that grew

at the edge of the asphalt on Oro Vista road, it already blooms

out of nowherethat’s magic, too. The postcard-size garden

by the old, wooden house, a shack, reallyfills with flowers

every spring. Fruit appears on orange trees after bees collect pollen.

 

The scent of sweetness, the cheerful noise of bee wings

is it not far more miraculous, a thousand, a million times

more delightful than the 100 floors of steel-metal-glass

of skyscrapers proudly pointing at the sky? Incomparable

with a patch of weeds, nature’s miracles of renewal.

 

How proud we are of our empty metallic constructions

that will rust in the jungle, abandoned, like stone pyramids

of the Mayas, shrouded by vibrant green of leaves and

branches. Thousands of years of human fame obliterated

by the steady, living, fertile abundance, the overflowing

force of life, of matter, our Mother.

 

Roots, shoots, and tendrils spread out, germinate,

flow through the soil in search of water, nutrients,

life, more life, ever growing, ever richer, dancing,

singing the abundance of beingthe song of creation

we arewe arewe arewe are all—

we are oneoneone


(c) by Maja Trochimczyk, first published in Quill and Parchment



Photo by Maja Trochimczyk at the Sky Garden Exhibition, 2022