Christopher Wachlin co-founded Stoneslide Media which publishes both Stoneslide Books and The Stoneslide Corrective. He is a long-time member of the San Francisco & Peninsula Writers, a branch of the California Writers Club, and served on the San Mateo County Poet Laureate Advisory Committee from 2013 to 2019. He lives with his wife on a peninsula between the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay. He likes to hike when he can, stare at the sky, listen to music, and anything to do with writing.

Fego Navarro, Lyrical Opposition‘s Creative Director, is a Salvadorian American rapper/actor. Fego’s musical journey in hip-hop began in his teen years at church. After church services, he would get together with his friends and kick freestyle raps outside the temple. This developed into a passion for writing his own songs and attending local open mics to showcase his talent. In 2013, Fego was featured on a song titled “Them Days” by an artist named Common Folk Nate. It premiered on MTV U and Snoop Dogg also featured it on his online show “Underground Heat” where it was number #1 in 2013. One of Fego’s many talents cast him in a film titled “Sin Padre” directed by Jay Francisco Lopez. It went on to win the audience award for the San Francisco Latino Film Festival. Fego’s most recent projects include a music project titled “Heart of Man” which is available on all music platforms and streaming services. As well as promoting a second film “Love Cecy” which recently premiered at the New York Latino Film Festival presented by HBO.

Christian Bustos is the Founder and Executive Director of the Brisbane-based nonprofit Lyrical Opposition. He is a San Francisco State University alumnus where he received his Bachelor’s degree in Broadcast Electronic Communication Arts with an Emphasis in Business. Within the arts community, he’s known as spoken word poet Cross Allan. He is also the Executive Producer for the documentary and short films for the Re-Entrification series.

Tatiana Lyulkin is a Ukraine-born, New York-bred poet and playwright living in San Mateo County. She writes poetry in three languages (English, Russian, and Ukrainian) and has been published in many magazines. She also writes religious poetry.

Poem on Belonging

THE CITY OF DREAMS

Wake up,
Wake up and go home
To East Palo Alto—
A secret place
Within your heart
Where red roses bloom
In the middle of February.
There is no snow
In East Palo Alto
But when the rain comes,
It comes down hard.
“We need the rain,”
Aunt Laverne says
As she looks out of the window.
East Palo Alto
With its own sense of style,
Its own music,
Its own drama.
East Palo Alto
Is tough as nails
And protective and kind
At the same time.
It cracks jokes
When it feels like crying
And when it’s angry—
Run for cover!
The city of my dreams,
A place of pure magic,
East Palo Alto,
Where’re you at?

Copyright © 2019 by Tatiana Lyulkin. This poem originally appeared in Speak Poetry Vol. 1. Used with permission of the author.

Lynnette Vega is a native Californian. She has lived in New York City, New Jersey, and for the last 50 years in the beautiful town of La Honda in the Santa Cruz mountains. She is an artist and art therapist. Most of her work life has been centered around facilitating groups for older adults and those with disabilities.

Poem on Belonging

TOM & GRACIE, 1980*

(Written in the concrete remains of “Boots & Saddle” Lodge in La Honda)

In this small town
history is not
an abstract thing
happening to someone
you’ve never met
in a place
whose name you might recognize
from a 5th grade
geography class

History is composed
each day
by the people
whose lives
intersect with yours

The ones
you say hello to
when walking down
the street
those you meet
at the post office
or general store

Though
some say
the bad thing
about living in a small town
is that everyone
knows your business
The good thing
is that
many people care

And with that caring
the town can respond
as if it were not
made up of
many individuals
But instead
a solid mass-like body

And when
one part is in pain
the whole body aches
in sympathy
Allowing our lives
to touch
and not
look away.

I knew them enough
to say that
“I knew them”
which is to say
that through 7 and 12 years,
respectively,
I really didn’t know them at all

And, Tom shot Gracie dead

the other night
then sped away
and self-destructed
in what the newspapers called
a “spectacular crash”

Who were these people
and could anyone fathom
the convoluted love
that drew them together
and pulled them apart
literally dozens of times
Only to come
to an end one night
in rage and pain and death.

That happened
four nights ago
And yet the sound
of that bullet
keeps reverberating
through these streets
as if it were still
whizzing through
the air.

Copyright © 2019 by Lynnette Vega. This poem originally appeared in Speak Poetry Vol. 1. Used with permission of the author.

Cordelia Naumann is a digital project manager and information developer in San Bruno, California. Her first poetry collection, Ghostpins (2021), is an exploration of what it is to recover from the experience of losing her siblings to violent and tragic deaths, growing up with abuse and addiction, and a loss of self and friendship. As she explores these themes, she intertwines them with her observations of nature and the animals in and around her home — helping her heal and find beauty in longing.

Poems on Belonging

STORIES YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED IN 2020 (SAN BRUNO EDITION)

The Joneses across the street gave birth to their third child. Assigned female at birth, they are waiting for her to identify. They call her Horse. On occasion, Horse escapes, goes door-to-door, and forages for food.

People have figured out that the fireworks are just that, and why are there so many people outside the gun store?

Dog adoptions are up, as are people complaining about dog poop on Nextdoor. Your puppy turned seven this year.

We all got fit, or fat. We won’t know until next year when the Peloton pays for itself, or it doesn’t. Gen Z continues to negotiate time off to surf.

The number of crows has now matched or exceeded the world population.

The cat still doesn’t care.

BROZZI’S GOOD DEATH (THE HOPE OF NOW)

I wanted this to be beautiful for you.

In the photo I had of you, before I
gave away all my memories, your face is hidden,
arms outstretched to the right, sun on your olive skin.
Your dreadlocks fall around your downward gaze,
illuminated like light through the Catalpa.
And if I animate you in the time between
first light and dawn, your boyish smile and
sleepy brown eyes light up my morning,
even though you’re gone.

I missed you like you missed Reya, after Camilla took her away.
I watched your story like an endless election night, and my longing never waned.
I watched you search, fly, drain accounts, dent couches.
I hoped you would hold your daughter again.

Hopes for 2021 Include

The bat, understood
Glass slaughterhouses
Soft ground for red geraniums
Using the term scarcity in a sentence
Fewer planes, the return of the songbird

I know nothing more than you were reunited, a decade later. The last words
I read were: “She’s ok. By bedtime last night she was cool,” you said.
You all returned to Norway. Camilla took up singing again.

Two years later, you died in your sleep. They call that a good death.
I found a selfie of you on Instagram, electrodes attached to
your hard, lean, body. Why did you shave your beautiful dreads?
I don’t know how you died, on account of no account.
I let the mystery be.

Did your heart break, or finally unbreak, leaving nothing left of longing?
Maybe you came here to do what
you needed to, to grace us with your beauty,
and show us the depths of a father’s love.

Hopes Now Include

Let love lead me
Let the mystery be

Copyright © 2021 by Cordelia Naumann. Used with permission of the author.