Best Santa Ana Poems

Within ageless canyons we hold our breath.
Ash clouds engulf us, survival or death?
Santana stampedes, pariah unchained. 
‘Tis Dante’s hellhound of Hades renamed!

Chased from our homes...

Read more of this work...

Unbestown upon
me, you
start 
blowing in my
soul ahead
of your arrival

In your wake, still
air becomes
glowy 
and unstable while the sky 
suddenly turns lilac 
and bloody, avenging
my usually...

Read more of this work...

In November I write of winter
  for I am weary of the old year and tired bones
I visualize all hardships blanketed with fresh snowfall
geese...

Read more of this work...

As brief as summer you swept
across my heart's desert
like a Santa Ana wind's hot caress.
Now the eastern passes
are still as virgin rocks
unto a land whispering...

Read more of this work...

A glass half-full of August pours its gold
on autumn's copper turning it to bronze.
The brittle Santa Ana gusts unfold
to rattle omens hidden in the fronds

that...

Read more of this work...

Give me a void 
filled with the absence 
of human voices.
Let there be a windfall of birds
and the chime of water 
for sound.
Insert the idle...

Read more of this work...

Hot Air

The name of that wind is Satana
It’s hot and it’s dusty and dry,
Don’t call the wind Santa Ana
In error, for that is a lie.
Saint...

Read more of this work...

It's too hot and humid for September!
Even dust specks descending in the room's sunlight
are beads of sweat running down my sides.
I bring pencil, crossword and...

Read more of this work...

I see my Lords face in the scattered leaves of autumn
Hear His voice in the rustle as they move with the afternoon breeze
I feel His...

Read more of this work...

I am from

I am from my mom’s jean jacket with leather lining, from levi’s and converse. 
I am from the cracked blue painted walls and...

Read more of this work...

Seething skies like bloodshot eyes,
wailing gales assailing through canyon ~ 
weeping fits, ember storm cries
bristling tears with random abandon.

East to west, unwanted guests,
downsloping dire breeds...

Read more of this work...

Fire and Smoke.  Smoke and fire.
Santa Ana Winds like a funeral pier.

Delivering embers.  Turning homes to ash.
Peoples lives burned off the map.

Where to...

Read more of this work...

Pro Patria Mori

Missouri volunteers bit bullets, watched
as Santa Ana's baggage washed
their brazen hair, hip deep
in the Rio Grande.
The ancient river moved across the land
Like slow...

Read more of this work...

Uniform bravery blue
checked out 
before the stroke of midnight
Just as my black butt inadvertently ran into
a bullet fired by
the nervous trigger finger of officer Fife
But...

Read more of this work...

Palm fronds clatter
in a Santa Ana wind
and I am bitter as quinine.
Leaves furl 
as the dead hands of summer
and I am bitter as wormwood.
The sun...

Read more of this work...