Best Marin Poems

The Poet in His Casket

Well, look at you lying there!
In your brown suit and gold tie.
How I want to hug you now!
You can't be dead, you're only forty
years old!

We lived together till you took a new
wife!
Her name was alcohol and that ended our
happy days and...

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This is my modern English translation of Paul Valéry's poem “Le cimetière marin” (“The graveyard by the sea”). Valéry was buried in the seaside cemetery evoked in his best-known poem. From the vantage of the cemetery, the tombs seemed to “support” a sea-ceiling dotted with...

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Cry me a river  cry me a river

The change has arrived

Where are all the heroes

Heroes like jolting Joe D

Hit the ball to outer space

Running from first to Homeplate

Kids cheering kids jumping

Popcorn all over the place

Heroes like Willie the say hey kid

Billy ball billy ball...

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Oh Robin my friend, I am writing this to you in the present tense not the 
past,
because to me you will always be here with us, now, and forever. I do however 
want to say a few things about when I first met you back...

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Caring is cool, my poetry is revolutionary, 
im scaring a school, the team is on my back and i carry them to, 
the promised land, atlas shrugged and gave me you, 
the world on my shoulders and i am prepared to share the truth

Too many...

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I think he's talking about a cooperative bicameral political system,
with "How to talk to the other side".

And what could that possibly mean, dear Yang?

Well,
I was watching this Ted-talk from Marin,
by Robb Willer, as I anciently recall,
while reading George Lakoff's "Political Mind",
still...

Yes, dear,
you really talk about...

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When I was a young lad
I was a boy scout
We went once a month
On a camping trip
With our father
Coming along.

Once we went 
On a camping trip
Along Stinson beach
In Marin County.

We had a campfire
On the beach
A real bonfire
Welcomed 
In the chilly night air

Fond memories
Of being a...

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In the Southwest of Scotland
Marin county Argyle-shire
Extends a narrow mass of land
Known only as Kintyre

A certain mull on which is known
What sea the eye adore
As glitter to a rolling mist
As waves align the shore

Not far from there in Campbeltown
Five miles or maybe more
Sat Duncan Blaine...

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From Chicago to Tampa Bay in a Ford Granada some time in the mid- 70's. Unfortunately, we were not interested in mountains, because we took interstate 75 and drove through Tennessee 'at night'. We felt the elevation but never saw the Smoky Mountains.  ...

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Moon night!
Full quarter, half-moon snow bright;
Mid-day, mid noon, such a boom;
a Moon lit Knight;
Son of a Jewish Rabbi;
Birth given name Marc Spector;
Was a professional boxer?
Did a tour of duty, fought as a Marin;
Leaves them to join ops. In CIA!
Later in the parlay
Becomes a vigilante;
A gravity...

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Foggy Nights, A Letter To A Friend
By Curtis Johnson

I have driven on  snowy and icy roads in Wisconsin and Illinois.  In the summer’s heat of the Sacramento Region, I have driven in cars, vans, and bobtails without air conditioning.  I have driven...

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Together, we hope to bring every aspect of Chicano art
to this region as well as the rest of the world.
We have something wonderful to give—Cheech Marin

Arts scene that encourages emerging
Latino artists throughout the Inland Empire
local colleges and universities will research and learn about 
the finest...

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5/22/17


Burning strong
From dusk to dawn
Shoutout to Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong



Just trying to hit home and go way beyond
Don't overlook every song
Migh just be here for awhile, or not that long
Regarding me being gone

Above and below clod
Near and far from plants with or without pods
And...

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The Golden Gate Bridge, like with giant feet,
spans wide San Francisco's wind-blown raw bay.
Foot's placed on Marin county shore's concrete,
the other sandal's close to old fort's stay.
All kinds of means cross o'er it every day
and commerce makes good gains for great wealth trade.
Now see the...

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Merrilyn escorts John through the Western trudges, as strangest of strangles blocks the memerrical double
Her momentous reflection: sordid, drossy, and wide to portant throttles
As whips become kisses and fainting memories open with admittance
The sorest sense of what will
She sinks down with arms befuddled, hands secreting...

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