Official Website

Poetry that Sings

A Santa Cruz Collective 
Started in 2002
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our Story

The Hummingbird Press publishes diverse, inspiring poetry by poets residing near the shores of Monterey Bay, California.

 

The Press is a small collective whose members are committed to bringing their varied skills to bear on the tasks essential to publishing a full-length collection and to encourage each other to create outstanding books of poetry. Our esthetic is disparate, but we are all serious (not sober) about poetry.

 

Hummingbird Press was envisioned to enable accomplished local poets to publish a first volume. The Press was launched in 2002 with nine members—each with a first book-length manuscript. The second cycle, of twelve books, spanned the years of 2006-2015. A third cycle was launched in 2016 with twelve poets. New members have joined the collective for each publishing cycle, as others have withdrawn.

Hummingbird Press 
2299 Mattison Lane 
Santa Cruz, CA 95062

(831) 464-8983 
hummingbirdpress@skyhighway.com

 

Our Books
 
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Scrimshaw

Maggie Paul

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The Way Home

Len Anderson

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Lesser Magi

Simon Hunt

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Drum of Bone, Whistle of Silver

Angie Boissevain

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This Deep In

Charles Atkinson

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Cricket to Star

Ken Weisner

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Pulling Down the Heavens Barbara Bloom

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Time and Peonies
Rosie King
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Gleams When Wet
Debra Spencer
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Borrowed World

Maggie Paul

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Strong-Armed Angels
David Allen Sullivan
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Sweetwater, Saltwater
Rosie King
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The Night Bridge
Wilma Marcus Chandler
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Hanging Out in the Ordinary

Tilly Shaw

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Where Stars Begin
Joanna Martin 
Invented by the Night
Len Anderson
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Anything on Earth
Ken Weisner
Bridge to There
George Lober
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Refuge
Amber Coverdale Sumrall
On the Water Meridian
Barbara Bloom
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Fossil Honey
Charles Atkinson
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Pomegranate
Debra Spencer
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Stilt Walking
After Midnight
Esmé Jel’enedra
Walking the Hot Coal
of the Heart
Julia Alter
Affection for the Unknowable
Len Anderson
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The Meaning of Wings
Joanna Martin
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In Here
Joseph McNeilly
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Swimming Closer to Shore
Tilly Shaw
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Shift of Light

George Lober

The Sacred Geometry of Pedestrians

Ken Weisner

I Flew Low Over Gratiot Road (Broadside) Rosie King

 
sample poems

From a Line by Jack Gilbert

 

The Chinese say, 

When you write a river, you are the river.

 

But today I am more the rain 

rinsing the river’s ruddy throat. 

 

Or yesterday’s sun, trying to swallow 

some dark delay between my four o’clock 

 

curtains. Mornings can be a ground

to lay our sorrows upon—a hard gift—

 

a tree trunk of a thing

where the past surges up like a fountain 

 

and cascades at our feet.

It floods the world. 

 

The one we step into.

The one we walk out of. 

 

 

from Maggie Paul's Scrimshaw

 
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