Jennifer O’Neill Pickering is an award winning literary and visual artist. Blooming In Winter, a poetry collection, is available on Amazon, Create Space and Barnes & Noble. She’s published prose and poetry in Sacramento Voices, Earth’s Daughters, The Voices Project, Poetry Now, Yellow Silk, Heresies, Raven’s Perch, The Dog with the Old Soul, Restore and Restory, WTF and elsewhere. Her poem I Am the Creek is included in the Sacramento sculpture, Open Circle (artist Les Birelson). She is the editor of The Sable and Quill: The Visual Art and Writing of Writers Who Are Also Artists v.1.
Her visual art has been featured in the Sacramento Bee, on the cover of the Inside Publications, The Thirteenth Moon, and the Blue Moon Literary and Art Review and elsewhere. She has been a featured poet at Nello Olivio Wine Cellar, Hot Poetry at the Park (SPC), John Natsoulas Gallery, Brickhouse Gallery, S.U.N.Y. Buffalo, the Western State Greenways Conference, Sacramento State College, the Sacramento Poetry Center and elsewhere. Her art work was first exhibited in conjunction with the Black Mountain College Poetry reading at S.U.N.Y. Buffalo featuring Robert Creeley and John Ashbery.
She was born in Marysville, California and lived in Tierra Buena and Yuba City. Her family owned peaches and grew rice. She studied art and writing at S.U.N.Y. Buffalo and after moving back to California received an MA in Studio Art from Sacramento State University.
Resist is a new gallery of political writing/audio. I welcome any recorded original, creative work submissions to this gallery as I feel the need to have our voices heard in this new political environment.
The gun violence in schools and in the US, in general, is sickening, disturbing, and becoming far too common. Piker Press expresses my point of view in “Final Exam” at
Killer i,ii,iii by Katya Mills
“killer i: a killer dies by taking life. when you must take a life to have it, you have little life to begin with, to need it so bad. and then to steal that which is not yours, you confirm you have no guts.”
killer ii: a killer is lost like a river wandered off became a stream then an eddy then a trickle until it dropped off the face of the earth and dried up into nothing, so far from the source was it
killer iii: they will not ever be who they were before they killed. the part of them that had a chance to be anything other than cold-blooded is gone with the light in their eyes