Best Francisco Poems
Roll back the joy of golden, painted years.
Hold me in that rapture, of joyful cascading tears.
Place the engagement ring on my soft hand.
Allow me to hear the notes of passion’s band.
Oh, how deeply in love in the City by the Bay we were!
Then~abruptly dismissed by Cupid’s, stinging, sharp spur!
That glorious moment though, outlives the painful march of time.
When I was wholly yours, on love’s, long, enchanting, cascading vine!
8/27/2022
~1~
If I only had one wish be granted me tonight,
To be forty-five, again,would be a blessed delight.
To be able to walk in high heeled shoes,
Not in Skechers, no, they give me the blues.
Nikes and running shoes were indeed my fate.
Dawn runs, next to the esteemed Golden Gate.
Dancing till dawn at Club Montmartre,
My life akin, to an expensive piece of art.
The clang of the cable cars rings in my ears.
Memories of those days, fill me with tears.
I can actually breathe life back into my regal past.
Ride a ferry boat, hoist high my heart’s mast!
Have you ever seen a metropolis glow at night?
Walking with your love in a hazed, foggy night?
That treasured city cast her spell on the poetess, that was to be.
San Francisco, I, no doubt will pen about you and love you, eternally!
3/8/2023
How could hands touch with
such tender velocity!
Eyes, with bolts of lightning,
electric.
Yet have the softest, velvet
synchronicity?
That WestCoast night, hearts
bound and eclectic
Your arms about my waist,
in the windows, fog-glossed
reflection.
A moment’s, Monet’ sacred
masterpiece!
That cried out for human creation.
Of you, of me, to bring to life,
a being in God’s own time and divination.
12/31/2021
10/20/2023
Those tanned, shapely legs of mine,
where have you gone?
No longer have I the ability to run!
Nor feel the glorious, salt water spray,
from my beloved, San Francisco Bay!
That kissed my sweating, dawn face.
Those foggy morns, the busy hands of
time have erased.
Some other body now, in its place?
This ghost of a runner,soulfully does state.
Who took away my youth in a dream?
If so, nobody heard a scream from me,
For now…left with joyful memories.
I am sitting here, composing soulful poetry.
Is this really how my life ends?
Stationary, on an internet device?
Prefer to be the woman on the run.
Than enduring ….no earthly fun,
Return me, please, to the “Bay to Breakers Run!”
There was a sense a feeling a consciousness
Ill and loosing friends long ago in San Francisco
Visiting when I was sharing vanilla shakes
All that he could eat and enough for me
We both tired so quickly, sitting together
Watching a tv show, washing his dishes
There was so much fear and ignorance
People did not want to learn or read
I miss him even now after so many years
Remembering those young days gone by
Blue skies, gray fog, white clouds
Tall Eucalyptus trees aromatic leaves waving
High up in the hill, a white cross waiting for Easter
Moments soft and quiet, caring contemplation
The worries, the pain, the uncertainty, still there
That sense of awareness, even a presence
A kindness, a Force seemed near
As we struggled to be alive as much
As we were allowed as the fog rolled in
And the nights grew dark and cold
The city lights, and the soft winds,
Gave us a kind of ease and even acceptance ensued
A sense of a Force that was close by
Ready to receive us and bring peace
Something — a presence without judgement
Was there -- that ended the burden of life when it was too much to bear
A Force universal, a Force that was waiting a Force that was aware
A large toothy Chinese dragon spirits me away.
To lively San Francisco street with paper lanterns.
Trinkets of all shapes and forms. Smells wafting in
Reminding me of Sweet and Sour Chicken and Pepper Beef.
My mouth waters in anticipation of my next meal here.
A dragon! A child’s shrill voice screams. An old woman smiles.
I realize then it has not been my imagination. I grin at the old
Woman, before I realize it is my reflection in a storefront window.
The sun did not rise with me this morning.
The cold, grey mist was there
Embracing all the places
We had been the night before.
The music, too, was gone;
And emptiness enfolded me
Like silent fog
On city streets.
Were you ever here?
Did we sing a song
And dance in the moonlight . . .
Embrace, laugh, and
Hold each other?
I cannot find you now.
I want to sleep
With the windows open
On a night that believes
In winter winds and falling snow
I want to taste your dreams
On a California bed
King sized on the Richter scale
Our dreams begin to open on the ninth floor
of the Marines Memorial Hotel.
Clean tombs equipped with all that is needed
for a weekend to die for.
Guests view what they can see at their level.
Flags wave from rooftops of skyscrapers,
like spring flowers praising the high winds.
Below a jungle of souls
in hypnotic allegiance flow past
concrete fields choked with roads.
Fatigued, dormant dreams weakly climb
praying to continue, to go on,
Hoping to recognize
silence as it sings a sacred invitation
to follow the fire of morning.
In our room we listen to the
television flicker between old graying movies
and a war in Kosovo.
At the window we have the luxury to turn away. . .
and witness the massacre of our afternoon.
Hail stones bullet the sunlight,
day bleeds pools of darkness.
Night falls to the light
Colors resurrected in our hearts
glow triumphant, emblazoned with life.
Who do you tell what your heart sees?
Who would believe the sound of it?
Oh Love, Oh Light--
"Please stay with us,
for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over." luke 24:29
There once was a chimp named Francisco
Who loved to eat gooey Crisco
When given the chance
He'd laugh and then dance
The waltz, the tango, and disco.
Giant Squid
In warm waters
Alarmed divers don't saunter
Never faulter
To escape
San Francisco Bay
Quietly they come
Inquistive by nature
Diving can be dangerous
Grab diver pull down to deep water
In fear of their lives
Always try to escape
Nerves are shattered
Totally afraid
San Francisco Bay
Quietly they come
Inquisitive by nature
Diving can be dangerous
(Heard a report on educational radio about these baby giant squid in San Francisco Bay. The
person said that they had been coming in there for several years now probably due to the
warming waters of the ocean. They are a threat to divers and others because they can get
hold with their eight arms or legs which either they are and pull the divers to very deep
water.)
Cornices, and Gargoyles with eyes turned low,
hold fast the passing in a frozen stare
as slow vapor rising from vents below
is churned by soles into thick city air.
Undeterred, the well-heeled leather bottom
wingtips fly past sandaled sloths at crosswalks
while clicking heels kick dead leaves of autumn
and wind their way through crowded city blocks.
Just above a breezy sidewalk café,
sheer fabric wafts a low-loft window sill,
two pair of empty vamps and laces lay,
removed in shameless haste and lustful will.
Beneath the sheets, a naked feet affair,
entwined, aligned, with dreamy souls laid bare.
Michael F. Lewis and Thvia Shetley
3/6/2013
Just one little brave boy and an entire city
Gave this heart so much joy in seeing such glee
For Bat Kid has arrived to fight for all the children
A true fighter who survived and a hero among men
For they came from near and they came from far
But one thing was clear it was a glimpse of who we are
With so much love in the air and such a true spirit of joy
A whole city took the time to care for this one little boy
In his cape and Batman mask and his hero by his side
The whole city would bask oh that Golden Gate pride
Lining every single street and cheering so constant and loud
Getting a whole nation to their feet boy San Fran we are proud
And as for little Miles my new favorite Super Hero
Showing how most of our trials basically add up to zero
Thank you for your example putting such courage on display
The blessing of you is so ample as seen in this glorious day
Beautiful San Francisco
In Northern California,
By the Bay,
There it is,
That beautiful city,
It’s the city Tony Bennett
Sings of
“I Left My Heart in San Francisco”
Those lovely trolley cars,
Make it so unique,
Nob Hill, a street we all know,
Fisherman’s Wharf, an interesting
Array of shops,
That famous Golden Gate Bridge,
My Dad told us he sailed by it
On his way to Korea,
During the Korean War,
My whole family got to see
San Francisco,
For my Dad, it was special,
Home to the 49ers football team,
Beautiful San Francisco,
In Northern California,
By the Bay,
There it is,
That Beautiful City,
It’s the city Tony Bennett
Sings of
“I Left My Heart in San Francisco”.
Celine Rose Mariotti
Shirley Brown was a very beautiful girl,
And her brunette hair
Hung down her back
And as the wind blew thru the window,
It waved around. It waved around.
She was making sandwiches,
And was packing them with fruit,
And two massive bars of fruit
And nut chocolate.
She lit a cigarette, picked up the basket,
And with a nod of her head,
Waved her hair backwards
And walked out the back door
Into the alley where,
Propped up against a fence
Was a blue mini-moped.
She mounted the bike,
And with a little trouble, started it.
And the rider made a sudden jump
As a horn blew behind her,
And a leather jacketed youth
Sped by on a butterfly motor-cycle.
People turned away
And the music blared on
And the youths talked on.
Then, a park keeper came
But the youths took no notice.
"What are you kids doing?"
The keeper shouted,
"I've had complaints from all over,
Clear off, wilya,
This is a park,
Not a meeting place
For all the Beatniks in San Francisco."
John Hemmings started dancing:
"Cool it, grandpa, get on,
Get going, don't bug me!"
The kids had gone too far
And they knew it.
Some of them turned away,
As the radio blared even louder,
Litter was scattered everywhere.
"I ain't chicken of dying,"
John Hemmings then said,
"We've got to go on,
ALL RIGHT! Who are the crumbs
Who want to chicken out at this point?
Just take your bikes and go.
We're free people now.
Nothing can stop us,
We'll rule the streets,
The young people will triumph."
He was perspiring wildly
And his black hair
Hung down his back.
It waved around. It waved around.
("For all the Beatniks of San Francisco" is based on extracts from one of my earliest
existent pieces of fictional writing, dating from when I was about 15 years old.)