Tag Archives: poetry

Coastal Starlight

Coastal starlight
rolling alright
through the moonlight
Past the cedar trees

Puget sound
in the distance
beaches covered with
weathered dreams

Sammamish crescent
Chuckanut parkway
bottle of klickitat red

one long toke now
on the back bench
as we pull through
the darkened hill

drifting nicely
and watching closely
white volcanos
up ahead

i’ve read about
all these mountains
in books by snyder,
old smoke blanchard
and poor dead jean

Riprap pathways
Adams gleaming
in distant
haze up’head

Junipers and scrub oak
give way to spruce
and river camps
where explorers lay

Ahh Cascadian byways
Coastal starlight
With bottle of beside me
of Klickatat red

I’ve watched the junipers
give way to cedars
and seen the volcanos
fade away

If there no mudslides
or strange derailments
soon i’ll be
back home in bed

I stopped in Portland
for the Crystal Ballroom
and in Centralia
for some beer

Left Olympia
far behind me
and Fairhaven’s
just getting near

I’ll trust that
you’ll be waiting
at the grey station
terminal at main

Engine running
three in th’morning
take me home
i won’t complain

terminal city
gets a bit sketchy
and i’d rather
not get robbed

i am worn now
but feeling happy
waiting in stations
and railing lines

i’ve not forgotten
the columbia gorge
at those moments
just a’fore sunset time

Pacific Coast Highway

Down the by-way
Pacific coast highway
It’s my driveway
Since we left
On Boxing day

We left on yesterday
and took the slow way
past manzanita
through to redway

Drove to Phillipsville
into the redwoods
Ate ceviche
at the haunted roadhouse

Headed north
on New years day
took the hard way
o’er siskyou hills

Took turns
driving the curves
rain clouds settle
watch sequoias
grow an inch a day

across the bridges
rolling southway
to pacifica
we’ll sleep well there
til the new day

Couldn’t be greener
onto mendicino
and the open ocean
drop off the sides

On the byway
Pacific coast hi-way
It’s my drive way
all day today

left on boxing day
took the slow day
past manzanita
to redwoods today

then on news years day
take the hard way
heading northwards
o’er icy hills

Moving Fast

An irish pub
a dirty couch
all day drives
and wretched nights

grinding hard
and moving fast
competing less
if there’s no test

you know the scene
from my notes
just now find out
for yourself

C:
Just say something
that sounds like yes
and we’ll disappear
into somewhere else

When we find out
Where we are
we’ll enjoy it even more
just as long as we are there

New again, waiting

I can write my name
in Japanese
and in gramma’s garden
i can name all the weeds

But i din’t mean much
when it all sucks
cause you are gone all summer

the other girls
they don’t thrill me
i’m a wreck
since you went
to your gramma’s house
all holiday

since that night at the fireworks
i’ve of you mostly
but i must admit
if your not back quick
i’m gonna find another

when your back, we’ll have a blast
we’ll have a blast
I’ve a trick to teach you

All those times
at the bus stop
copping kisses
stealing feels

I want more now
& I’ve grown impatient
you’ve got to ride the greyhound

Run away from summer
got on heading this way
i’ve got two weeks left
to getta know you

we’ll never be this new again
so don’t tease me so dammit now
just hop the hound and
make it here before the snow

Henry at the Edge of the World

Why Henry,
Why Henry,
why did you leave the tranquility?

Navigating into nowhere
speculating on something
better than perfect
prince of confusion
or driven by pride?

Please tell me it wasn’t for greed, spices or pope
just to go!
The cove protected heavy ships from plunders
the point at the edge of the all anyone knows at this moment

Why didn’t you turn right
dancing with Galacian girls
or left into well enough

Now it’s the ghost of you and Cristobol
me and two earnest Germans
watching everything heading into somewhere
no longer new

The wind blows the same
sometimes we wait
in Aljezur
patching holes.
sometimes we make it nowhere

Navigate elsewhere Henry
maybe draw me a line
to divide something
and don’t compare hard

Temporary Lighthouses

Beyond the aspens
three of us
together fast

Please let me go now
the tension is just
a bit too much
to last

No no she says now
let me go he goes
just wander
into trees

There you say now
go on together
twos easier
than we three

Into the aspens
disappeared
white birch maple
and mystery

The three of us
not too soon
she sang again
riding free

Swerved around right
can’t bump the road
on the empty cold
desert night

Chorus

Windy days
and beach front fires
lighthouses calling
you away

I don’t mind
suppose it’s better
i’ll keep a mind
to remember
nights together in the aspen grove
before foothill evening
turned into today

Cemetary Afterall

Terraced footsteps
hills for wooden stairs
cobbles arranged by someone
slip slip into graves
candles burning flowers wilting
an empty space next by waiting
averting gaze from blackened hood mourning someone
for 30 years
or maybe el Papa since yesterday

Napoleon’s Caskets

Oh Napoleon in your caskets
why did you hafta mess it up?
It’s not that i’ve reason to care
here on top of your Arc of Triumph
celebrating the farmers, dead bastards
buried cold, scattered families told to feel pride
as your consolation prize

Did you feel unloved or just condescended?
You under willow tree squared up in St Helena’s rocks
Was it ever enough?
When did you plan to stop?

Perhaps in your next circuit
we have a baguette and talk about the good times, you know them all
listed in marble next to your heaving pompitude
over wine on the Seine
tell me when the fire started –
when did you know?

Just a couple answers for me because i’m greedy too
thirsty for life
questing for quiet and paints over battlefields and
coerced congratulations
did you not realize the power of restraint?
the art of deflection?

Now on Champs, i’m not sure
your reflecting face
at odds with the dereliction
now, where you are
do you room with Caeser or the saints?

Beers in Bruges

Drinking beers from Bruges to Paris
“ah you like good beer”
he says in halted words
punching ticket in boxy hat
winking, “i’ll be right back”

Six small cans of Stella Artois
“They fell off a truck”
gratis
not as good as Grimbergen
but free

He said, i am French but i haven’t a plan
just a guy doing what i can
i’ve been to the forests and plains
and i like my wine and friends
i wonder what is like to be there
a little envious perhaps
but not ready to trade

Mona Atlantico

Si si si you’d say
and disappear through a door
me looking –
finding you alight
and aflitter
anxious to avoid your iodine stare
its not i that i try to please you – i just do
something always new

Interludes and anecdotes
from Florida or yesterdays’ shorelines.
you pull the blanket over
over your shoulder
in the aftermath
vanish into dreams of olives,
mountainsides &
Manzanita sunsets.

Yes indeed i’ve found you
and you are my Andalusian girl today,
Catalan girl tomorrow

Si si si you say
in another terrace cafe, another beer with another name
sure enough, you’ve met a new friend but are
always half of me

Tell me Mona
how did it make you feel?
That time in Esposende?
was it more than the night train ride into Coruna
all night blowing smoke from the only open window
from time to time
red wine with strangers

After sleepless days
and forgotten nights
sandy strolls, missed turns and just caught trains
April palms and cascading church bells,
crumbled castillos and fields of the cows

Inspired by your tenacity
stunned by the honesty
confused by the intensity,
Mostly thrilled by your smile from Malaga to Granada
through tunnels, over bridges
and crossing waterways from books