Best Capistrano Poems
Across the road from new truck sales
Lay a yard filld with trucks that died
These vehicles' voice offer tales
Once on them a trucker relied
They thought that he would be companion
Their eternal guide protect them
He took one to the Grand Canyon
He was truck's total brain stem
Made the decisions for each day
This truck didn't object just follow
Whichever way trucker would stray
Even if where lay Capistrano Swallow
Then one day the truck's tires went flat
Soon in this graveyard this truck lies
Trucker lost his favorite hat
Old trucker no longer truck guides
Categories:
capistrano, funeral, life, nature
Form:
Rhyme
When sunset bows amidst the hilltops,
My warble coos on fields;
And through the ever- glowing night
This womb of nest I keep,
Where flappers reel like tints of sky
A mix of white and cobalt -blue,
To guide oak trees from silhouettes
Against the rail of grass.
The seasons house me with warm grace,
Rich the buds growing soft
Adorning my emblazoned wings,
Etched across the cloudscape.
Yet, the flavor of autumn blows
Heralding distant flights;
Till wake of spring escorts me back
From old Capistrano.
Early Feb 2018 Premiere Contest:
For Brian Strand
Categories:
capistrano, bird, joy,
Form:
Free verse
I've ventured far from Indiana, the home soil of my birth,
To many exotic and exciting places all about this earth.
I've seen majestic Mount Fuji from the Kanto Plain of Tokyo.
But I'd rather marvel at Pikes Peak right here in Colorado!
I've traveled the rugged Khyber Pass in ancient Pakistan,
And saw sumo wrestling and cherry blossoms in Japan.
The alabaster city of Casablanca I've visited in Morocco,
But I'd rather tour old ghost towns right here in Colorado!
Magnificent Mount Vesuvius I've seen across Naples Bay.
In Holland I've seen windmills and tulips in vast display.
I've seen the swallows returning to San Juan Capistrano.
'Tis more thrilling to see eagles soar the pristine skies of Colorado!
In Bermuda I've lolled upon the beaches of pink sand,
And have viewed the towering Alps of Switzerland.
Mayan ruins I've scampered over in Old Mexico,
But I'd rather explore the ruins of Mesa Verde in Colorado!
I've climbed the Tower of Pisa rewarded with a view divine,
And visited the quaint Principality of Liechtenstein.
Some folks strive for a lifetime seeking their El Dorado.
I've found mine right here in Colorful Colorado!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 Tracie's " Where in the World..." Contest - Dec 2011
Categories:
capistrano, places, old, old,
Form:
Rhyme
Points Above and Below the Line
(Enea Canonises Catherine of Siena)
It's not a thing we go for any more,
that hierarchy malarkey, but in fact
the medieval mind set mega store
by stairs and ladders. All things interact,
and therefore can be neatly classified.
(There's endless fun in drawing up these lists!)
The lowest rung is "is", all pride aside:
a rock is "est", because it just exists.
Your jellyfish can breathe and reproduce,
so up we go: it wins a badge named "vivit".
An antelope can feel, get scared, hang loose,
so "sentit" is the title we can give it.
So living, then, is better than existing,
and feeling better still. Take Esther Blodgett.
She's capable of pouting, outing, twisting --
so humans come out tops again, with "cogit".
So all these so's, I hear you say: so what?
Well, what if humans almost reach "divine"?
Suppose there's something Esther Blodgett's got
that takes her over life's Dividing Line?
"Sublunary" means "underneath the moon".
"Diurnal" means "divided, night and day".
(Now, please don't chafe: the point is coming soon.)
Below the line means "subject to decay".
The moon was key for medieval man,
because it marked the mortal azimuth --
Above, eternal, there since time began:
below, corrupt, unwholesome, marked for death.
And now we come to Pius, making saints.
There's Catherine of Siena, looking flirty:
They must have used an awesome box of paints -
The chick had been a corpse since thirteen-thirty.
Above, the Pope, the Cardinals and Kate.
Below, the groundlings watching it go down.
Above, all spirit, high, inviolate:
below, all bulging groin and earthy brown.
If Kate was Sienese, that's nepotism?
Why ain't he canonizing Capistrano?
It's all to do with black and brown and schism.
Dominicans are gold, the others guano.
Franciscans are Heart,
Dominicans are Brain.
Franciscans use Love,
Dominicans use Pain.
Franciscans are Italy,
Dominicans are Spain.
Categories:
capistrano,
Form:
Quatrain
Like so, our fingers gently entwine
We are in Capistrano again
Gazing at young swallows perched on boughs...
The perpetual murmur of reeds finds me
Entranced by gerberas as they
Unwrap yellow petals along San Juan;
And destined amorousness smiles at us,
This hunger for joy’s effervescence divine.
Unto paths, a slow walk in the chapel
Invites deep prayers humbly offered—
A noble reverence from two soul mates
Knowing this fervidness to love, to give vigorously,
Is one rare pledge without vehemence or question
Where ardor’s thirst reflects a grant from heaven...
Our disquietude tamed by sacred bell chimes ,
Embracing this fate never to be duplicated
In this lifetime when refrains of gratitude knell
At the edge of Capistrano's twilight...
Our long distance affinity armed by flames of hope,
Awaiting God’s will, His veneration.
2/18/2019
Free Verse On Love--10 Words
Pick A Prize for Lu Loo's Contest
Categories:
capistrano, devotion, love,
Form:
Free verse
Mission jewel seen near ocean's close shore.
Place where white gulls fly and breaking waves roar.
Tiled roofs, colonnades all make a fine tour.
Show birds nesting
Babies resting
Priest are chanting, voices rising, they soar.
Categories:
capistrano, religious,
Form:
Pre-received, by some to be,
A bit of a shallow fellow indeed.
I followed the swallows
down the road to
San Juan Capistrano
In search of a better life for me.
Better a sight there, did I see.
Appearing & leering angry unto me, was he.
I didn't know, had never seen.
Not one to show fear
I glared back, with a sneer.
But looking closer, I did see here.
It was only,
me in view,
of me,
in a mirror.
David Caldera
03/24/08
Categories:
capistrano, imagination, uplifting,
Form:
Monorhyme
I wanted to see sailing ships again so I went to Dana Point last week to revisit the Brig Pilgrim, gift from Denmark to the United States honoring Henry Richard Dana’s voyage around Cape Horn in 1835. A brig is a ship with two masts, square rigged, or rigged nearly like a full-rigged ship’s sail mast and foremast.
Vessel is exact replica of the original Pilgrim, a common sight in the 1850’s picking up lodes, at the various mission ports between San Francisco and san Diego. Here in El Embarcadero Cove , the ship took on board hides from Mission San Juan Capistrano. These “Leather dollars”,as they were called, were carried to the east coast and made into shoes, wallets, and women purses. Ship owners made good profit for a relatively small investment.
Categories:
capistrano, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
There was an old lady
Who flew like a swallow.
She weight sixty pounds
‘Cuz her bones were hollow.
She flew through the air
Wherever she went.
She slept in a tree
And didn’t pay rent.
One unlucky morning,
She fell from the sky.
Her arms were all heavy
And she couldn’t fly.
Seems she was anemic
And feeling quite sick.
She ironed her shirt
And that did the trick.
Went south for the winter,
Flew into a cliff;
It seems she’d used starch,
And her arms were too stiff.
So now she takes Delta,
When she takes the skies:
San Juan Capistrano
To see butterflies.
One bright sunny morning
The monarchs came in.
The old lady decided
To take flight again.
A bit out of practice,
She thought that she’d try;
She opened her mouth
And swallowed a fly.
There weren’t any spider,
But swallows instead.
She choked on a swallow
And ended up dead.
So now you’re stuck singing
A song that’s absurd
And trying to remember
If there was a bird.
I can’t seem to end this;
I’ll try to comply.
At least you know now
Why she swallowed that fly.
Categories:
capistrano, nonsense, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Rhyme
Ye lovers of song,
musically inclined,
Sing loud, Sing now,
All the birds of the earth are listening
while we sing all over the world.
Sing like
...the mockingbird
where the weeping willows wave.
... the swallows
as mission bells ring.
... the nightingale who
croons in Berkeley square.
Sing like
...three flamingos
pitched on Bob Marley’s doorstep.
...rockin' robin with Michael Jackson
on Jaybird Street.
... the Blue Jays
at the 7th inning in Toronto.
While we sing all over the world,
all the birds of the earth are listening.
Sing now, Sing loud!
Ye musically inclined,
sing, lovers of song.
April 27, 2020
Credits:
Listen to the Mockingbird – Alice Hawthorne
When The Swallows Come Back to Capistrano – Leon Rene, sung by Ink Spots
A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square – Eric Maschwitz
Three Little Birds – Bob Marley and the Wailers
Rockin’ Robin – Leon Rene, sung by Bobby Day and later, Michael Jackson
OK Blue Jay’s - Jack Lenz and Tony Kosinec
Categories:
capistrano, 11th grade, baseball, bird,
Form:
Free verse
Written By: D. Collins 10/25/24
Don't pitch to a pitcher, they know how the ball drops.
What spin is upon it, to put it out the park.
Don't pitch to a pitcher, if his name is Shohei.
Your ball might end up in the Frisco Bay.
The Dude has eyes that none of us have seen.
Knowing what pitch is coming to raise the team.
There's nothing 'mo betta than putting juice in the tank.
Then, one of them crack, cracks in front of me and Gang
You know that's what's coming because that's what he do.
CRACK, CRACK right in front of me and you.
Don't pitch to a pitcher with name like Otani.
San Juan Capistrano may become Camp Shohei.
Categories:
capistrano, baseball,
Form:
Crown of Sonnets
“Springtime”
The dark days of winter have passed
The snow gone at last.
The cold, a memory forborne.
As the Earth awakens
Will the meadows turn green?
Will the bluebirds sing?
Will the mission bells ring?
Will the cherry trees bloom?
Will mankind repent,
Make way for new dreams?
Will she return to me?
How I long to see
The dark winter of war
Be gone.
The cherry blossoms
Dress the DC mall.
The swallows return to
San Juan Capistrano.
How I long to see
The newness of it all,
The birth of a lamb,
The budding of trees,
The greening of grass.
It is time to seed the earth,
To shake a neighbor’s hand,
To repair the hearts and land.
Let it rain spring
Across this land and
In its many hearts.
The Meadows are greening.
The Bluebirds are singing.
The Mission bells are ringing.
The Cherry trees are blooming.
It is indeed a time to celebrate.
It is indeed a time to reflect and repair.
She returns to me
She will return indeed
To the many in need. 3/23/2022
Categories:
capistrano, dream, earth, green, spring,
Form:
Free verse
I want to sing like the birds sing, NOT worrying about
who hears or what they think."
~ Rumi
And so, it is penned with each poetic verse I write~
I become a nightingale trilling in the dark of night
A mourning dove, tenderly crying for a lost soul
Spring's first robin, tempting a worm from its hole
I'm a warbler, a thrush with songs that need singing
A swallow in Capistrano, north with my flock, winging
Hummingbird searching for sweet nectar to drink
Ebony raven whose observant eye can give you a wink
I'm a wee sparrow but my voice demands to be heard
I know the lyrics to sing for I've memorized each word
I'm part of an avian chorus crooning like a symphony
Musically arranged for our voices in harmonic polyphony
Categories:
capistrano, bird, encouraging,
Form:
Rhyme