Best Californian Poems
Across the vast Californian Death Valley I went out for a drive
The temperature gauge was reading a hundred and twenty five.
Despite the unforgiving temperature, I was staying nice and cool
I had the air conditioning on full blast, because I am no fool.
I had been on the road for about an hour, so I pulled over for a break
The desert scenery was awesome, so some pictures I thought I'd take.
I slowly got out of my car taking my camera and boy it was so hot
After about ten minutes of snapping, some great pictures I'd got.
I walked quickly back to my car and went to get my key
It wasnt in my pocket, and fear started to overcome me.
I realised I didn't have my hat or water they were on the front seat
And knew I wouldn't last too long in the deserts unforgiving heat.
I started to walk on the highway it was a good four hours to town
And praying another vehicle would soon appear so I could flag it down.
After two hours of walking I heard it, the rumbling of a truck
Help was coming at long last and I couldn't believe my luck.
The driver stopped and said "hey buddy you look like you need a ride "
I was on the verge of collapse, but so overjoyed I almost cried.
We got to town and I wanted to give him something for rescuing me
Opened my camera bag to get some money out and damn there was my key.
Written 4th August 2021
An interesting Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Funom Makama.
Categories:
californian, adventure, america, car, sun,
Form:
Couplet
Me barber’s still one of them blokes who lives the school of old,
using methods quite old fashioned to what modern trends unfold,
so with scissors, clippers, hot towel, then lathered with a brush,
he’ll shave you with a cutthroat, though never in a rush.
And he offers further benefits, if you’re that way inclined,
for just a couple of extra bob, you get your shoes well shined,
and while waiting for your turn, you can read a magazine,
or tune in on conversation, while his razors shaving clean.
He sells those huge cigars as well. I think the Cuban brand!
And there’s Californian Poppy that the young won’t understand.
Wafting through his barber shop is the smell of after shave…
And today there is one customer, who wants to misbehave.
He’ll be in the chair before me; I have to put up with his rot,
his voice is loud and won’t shut up, intimidating all us lot,
so when his time had come, we hoped he’d give us all a spell,
then he demands a shave and haircut and to shine his shoes as well.
I watched the barber lathering, before he beckoned with a call…
then this beautiful young woman came and stood in front of all.
The barber mentioned “Here’s a customer, wanting you to shine his shoes”
and when she bent down to do the job she gave some awesome views.
The loudmouth couldn’t help himself; he had to open up his gob.
He mentioned to the pretty lass, that when she finishes her job,
they ought to sneak away together, and book themselves a motel room,
but from the lass who shone his shoes, a shock’s about to loom!
She smiled into his soaped up face, and gave his shoe a pat,
“I’m sorry sir, I’m married and my husband wouldn’t like that.”
“Your husband!” Scoffed the loudmouth, “Use your commonsense!
Tell him you’re working overtime and I’ll pay you the difference.”
The lass raised her brow and gave a grin, then his shoe a final wipe.
She stood up and took a deep breath before replying to his hype,
“Your offers pretty good” she said, “I’ll go and get my hat and coat,
but you can tell him if you like… he’s got the razor at your throat.”
©2005 Lindsay Laurie
Categories:
californian, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Pangie was struggling in the heat
Said this heat wave sure has me beat
This old hot sun
Is no damn fun
Its swelling my poor little feet.
Written on 18th August 2020.
Dedicated to Panagiota who is struggling in the Californian heat wave.
On a serious note I hope things cool down for her.
She gave kind permission to post it.
Categories:
californian, abuse, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Life relapse and develops new memories and experiences sighted through brown eyes
Miles of driving, walking. Thousands of laughters, a few bad habits, a gorgeous dream for an addict
Later in life finally files success, the prism adjusts, the same sun ray reflects
After a few years of a psychological interpretation which people know god as capable of, ends up all a misunderstanding
Maybe someday you'll read my books of insanity
And the signature I left under this writing with my very last breath inside of me
Because Im now free pieces of ashes in the ocean living my Californian dream, cleaning myself in the tides salt of oceanic health, being the creme that fizzes the sand at your feet
In reality, I never made it with you;
When you think honey, long nights of cuddling, sun rays on a beach I've never seen, take some pictures for me
And my Californian dream will follow you until you figure out the key, honey.
The world without one woman's smile would mean, id never created the Californian dream;
Id of never lived it, even by the death of me
I'd of never known sweet honey and beer is one hell of a mixture
And sometimes when you think only the walls are watching
You need to talk lower, maybe even whisper.
The world without one woman, one less journey, and a million less thoughts is one less dream.
If I live the world without one woman, ill never meet the climax of my Californian dream.
Categories:
californian, age, beach, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Italian risotto
A welsh rarebit
Californian salad
with Hoolandaise sauce
Mandarin gateaux
with Swedish
Toast!
Categories:
californian, food, places
Form:
Epulaeryu
Let's sit under the tall, satured elm after the long-gone storm;
its branches, unwavering and steaming, are awfully warm.
They stretch their drooping arms to brush off the remaining hues,
those of a placid sunset turned apple-red.
Hear me warbling along with the shivering mockingbird,
too lonely and in somber mood. He relies on his brain,
absorbing the faint heat...before he dies of his amorous evening blues,
I should comfort him and soothe his inconsolable pain.
And watching him, I recall the state I was in, miserable and frail...
until I realized that I was missing: a hand to touch me and restore my will.
I have brought a basket of Californian sun-ripened fruits,
tempting and lively; look inside, cast your gleeful glance on it.
Be that eagle with quick claws when his empty guts emit growls;
pick the ones your palate craves or those with attracting colors.
My pick is that of a yellow apple like your golden hair slightly wet,
it reminds this lover of the delirious laughter chasing another sunset.
Let's behold the brilliance of the ending day which refuses to subdue;
only the sadness concealed in the depths of our souls holds the clue.
Categories:
californian, autumn, beauty, bird, blue,
Form:
Rhyme
For four-thousand years and more
He’s withstood the tests of time;
Extremes of heat and cold
Haven’t cut him down in his prime;
Even now he proudly stands
As a testament of endurance,
The elements sure can’t defeat
This tree of majestic stance.
This Californian Bristlecone-Pine
Stands high up in the mountain range,
How it manages to survive there
Leaves us gasping, it seems so strange;
How it’s lived for millennia
When other trees have long since died
Is truly amazing to consider,
Such tenacity can’t be denied.
On so dry and thirsty a terrain
This tree seems but to thrive,
A resilient nature for sure
Helps to keep it so alive
And, within its tough bark,
In the very heart of the tree
Must be a durability
Of the highest degree.
Yes, the oldest living thing
On our Planet Earth
Is a magnificent tree
Of such invaluable worth.
A grand, visible display
Of what determination can do;
A symbol of a great survivor
For us all to look up to.
Categories:
californian, naturetree, tree, planet, endurance,
Form:
Rhyme
I wake up in a bath of sweat
I am late starting my journey
Weightless clothes hide my being
Protect the skin from reality, my reality
The garage door shuts up in a rearview mirror
There is nothing else but emptiness
The rose bushes prune themselves
For an artificial Californian winter
Dislocated trees pretend to whither genetically
Along the street I slide encapsulated in soundproof
I ride in a bath of distorted forms
Cannot figure out why the street ends up in stairs
I merge in an one-way freeway with ends of marine layers
Curious eyes greet somber, slow and mute police lights
I am finally free to fly and collapse in the Pacific
Slapped by wreaths with my name in purple
*
A three year old with ash blonde hair jumps up her beach towel
She runs towards the ocean in an excited déjà vu
I grab me with my two little hands and smile at my regenerated youth
An obsessive dream re-occurring - our street ending up in stairs…
Again and again…
Categories:
californian, life, time,
Form:
Free verse
I wake up in a bath of sweat
I am late starting my journey
Weightless clothes hide my being
Protect the skin from reality, my reality
The garage door shuts up in a rearview mirror
There is nothing else but emptiness
The rose bushes prune themselves
For an artificial Californian winter
Dislocated trees pretend to whither genetically
Along the street I slide encapsulated in soundproof
I ride in a bath of distorted forms
Cannot figure out why the street ends up in stairs
I merge in an one-way freeway with ends of marine layers
Curious eyes greet somber, slow and mute police lights
I am finally free to fly and collapse in the Pacific
Slapped by wreaths with my name in purple
*
A three year old with ash blonde hair jumps up her beach towel
She runs towards the ocean in an excited déjà vu
I grab me with my two little hands and smile at my regenerated youth
An obsessive dream re-occurring - our street ending up in stairs…
Again and again…
Categories:
californian, angel, life,
Form:
Free verse
We see art deco sunsets and
paisley palm trees
on a citizen ship
in cheddar seas.
Up goes the sun -
an impressionist's blot, while
nor'easters push pigments
through pastel parking lots.
In a sense, we are blind in
this rush hour mosaic
in a photovoltaic landscape
on a Californian wave.
In another sense we're naked
as the greenly palms flit
as the sun waves goodbye
to our citizen ship.
Categories:
californian, naturesun,
Form:
Free verse
How many springs that bloomed and withered like flowers?
How many winters that came and melted in front of me?
How many summers that burnt my skin and dried the land?
How many autumns had covered the front door with leaves
that crackle, when you stepped-on, rushing to kiss me?
I’m a grown man
now, early-forties. Yet,
I still remember well what I wore on my first day of school;
It was not signature, nor a famous Armani brand; but
a hand made barong, sewn to fit me.
You slaved yourself over it, so that neighbors
won’t tease me, half-naked going to school.
I also remember when I held your worn hand in mine
to compliment you; and you looked straight into my eyes,
bluish---like the color of the sky over us. You smiled.
The warmth of your hands still lingers on my body,
mingles with the sweat of your blood that runs thru my veins.
At that moment of time I knew, my life’s filled with love.
To you, my beloved Mom
Happy Mother’s Day!
Here, I brought a basket of apples, your favorite
which I picked from our grove---at the back garden.
Let me cut this red one, for you, and I’ll show…
the star---the symbol of my past and my future. A great star.
Mom, only these I’ve for you, fruits of my hands, not diamond.
My precious son, red or green apple, Californian or not, is fine
with me. And, I don’t need diamond, for I already have one
since nineteen hundred and sixty-seven, the year when I saw
the cockcrow and dusk, finally, met that caught me, by surprise.
Categories:
californian, life, love, mother, people,
Form:
Lyric
Soul matters
Driving in the Californian sun
Reaching out of your car laughing at pedestrians
River flowing clear as day
Sunlight shining
Amazing flow
Old times
Drugs
Cocaine
Mafia
Alone in the Cali sun
Diamond rings
Glowing night
Amazing women
Oooooo!
Diamonds!
Categories:
californian, adventure
Form:
California is Drying
California is drying up they say
this drought
only needs another year before
California
is a sun dried tomato
California
is cracked clay of a dry river bed
California
is like the white salty residue my sweat leaves
when i am dehydrated
riding my bike
through the soul sucking heat
California has 1 year of water left
and people still stand in the heat
and wastewater
on their greedy green grass lawns
you cannot eat grass
California known for farming
citrus fruits and
endless fields of grapes for wine
avocados and almonds
hydroponic pot plants and hops for craft beer
If you drive through
Central Californian farms
All the trees are dead
all the people are gone
all the dust is kicked up
all of the lush farmland
is now a desert
and our government sucks us dry
and we suck once fertile California dry
the once proud Golden State
falls apart in my hands like a petrified fossil.
Categories:
californian, america, deep, earth, rain,
Form:
Blank verse
It was years ago,
I was younger and more fit,
I went to California,
And was soon scared out of my wit...
I decided to travel,
With family in tow,
Down the "Big Sur",
But I didn't know...
It was a ride into
A nightmare,
I was paralyzed with fear,
Driving on a road,
With death oh so near...
No guard rail in sight,
I near choked on my fright,
Steep cliff on my right,
My imagination took flight
Down into the abyss,
We surely would go,
Californian cars on my bumper,
My terror did ever grow
What do they want?
For me to dive off the cliff?
So they can rush to their goals,
Another five minutes the diff?
There came a pull over spot,
All the closer to doom,
I pulled over quick,
With hardly any room...
The endless traffic went by,
At fifty MPH or more,
I figured I was there,
Till I could no longer endure,
After what seemed endless hours,
I got back on the road,
Got off as soon as possible,
I had no need for a goad
I drove hundreds of miles inland,
In order to return,
To my hotel that day,
And I did learn
It's up to fools to dare,
Things they know not what they do,
And let me tell you,
Of me this was true.
Categories:
californian, adventure, funny, places, me,
Form:
Bio
Memories to Cherish
Down in the valley, I know an area of forest
with a small stream running by.
Dappled sunlight paints the moss covered forest floor
A quiet, peaceful, magical area.
Nature’s garden clothed in shades of green and gold
I recall this valley in early morn, white with frost,
With snow covering the mountaintops,
A surreal stillness grips the valley
Even the river is hushed
As all life awaits the warming of the morning sun.
Nature’s garden clothed in shades of blue and white
I remember a lowland riverbed, the shingle covered in
the gold of Californian poppies.
Nature’s garden here clothed in orange and gold,
An untamed reserve on this part of the plains,
Shared by rabbits, bird life and predators,
A land apart from the sterile wire enclosed fields
These plains now devoid of the character of gorse fences
And Manuka stands that once flourished here
All is not progress in our land
Categories:
californian, memory,
Form:
Verse