Long San francisco Poems
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Lombard Street Memories
San Francisco, 1975
~~~~~~
I felt totally stupid cooking my first turkey, as I had never cooked one previously...Neither had my gorgeous fiancé!
Anyway, you all know what the intoxicating smell that wafts like magic up into your nose and brain. It immediately triggers signals of Thanksgivings,past.
The table was set, best friends there, I was getting more excited
to taste that gorgeous bird.
I had noticed when we were preparing "Tom" we couldn't get the stuffing in. I thought, how odd!
Cooks reading this will know my error. Oh, Lord, I left the giblets in!
We both laughed and kissed at our holiday error gone amiss and removed them, before serving to our unknowing guests.
Everything else was perfect as things seemed to always work out
those precious days on Lombard Street in San Francisco.
In that small apartment with bay windows that overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge.
Ah, dearest city! You were such a joy and a win. Kissed by the sun in the day but at sundown,
covered us with a fog coverlet and
the soft music of foghorns.
It is true what Tony Bennett sings. You surely can leave San Francisco~but your heart stays there with golden memories.
Lombard Street Memories
November 22, 2019
Moved my things
And said she didn't
Move it
tryin to make me
feel strange
she knows what
she's doing
Me constantly complaining
That aint me ya'll
Stop playin these games
It aint just you and me
Whats true with devotion
In love if you don't really
Mean it
Is tryin to make things
Change
I wanna beleive that
Something needs
To be said
I need to get up
Off my knees
Beggin don't make her
see things my way
Guess I have to
find another way
to get her to agree yeah
I recommend it
she thinks it over
and still disagrees
Talk to my freinds
They say do whats
Best for me
What they know
I am talkin about
more than me yeah
I love my wife
Love our lives together
Even though we disagree
From distance far,
Steady as the stars,
Your broad waves flowed in
As tides blown by the winds.
I first met you in 1978 when
We moved to San Francisco.
We live just four blocks from
Your beautiful sandy beaches.
I observed the beauty of your
Harmonic rythem and ryhme.
Time after time, those roaring
Sounds of the sea came rushing
To the shores.
Amazed and wowed time after time,
Walking tall across your sea walls.
8 years of delight filled my heart
Whenever you would call.
On many a night, safely upon the rocks,
without fright, I sat and comuned with God.
In the presence of sea gulls and your company,
I would forget about the clock.
Yes Pacific, there was something special
Between you and me until I left you in 1986.
Oh how quickly the years have gone by, but
The memories of you will forever linger.
I finished high school in the 60's, a decade of 'Change and Revolution'. Got married in the 70's, the decade of 'Accountability and Resolution'. Yes, I became a man in the 70's, a college graduate, a father, a voter, a missionary pastor, and a homeowner. The decade of the 70's was like building a foundation and a platform in anticipation of the decade of the 80's.
The 80's was a decade of 'Reconstruction, Reconsideration, Reconciliation, and Revision'. The 80's, also a decade of Fiscal Responsibility, Vision, and Expansion, gave birth to the formation and rise of the Reagan Democrats. I suspect that Jimmy Carter was no match for the 80's because the 80's ushered in his defeat at the hands of Ronald Reagan, who also took on The Air Traffic Controllers and weakened the hands of America's Strong Labor Unions. The Spring of '81 brought us the failed assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan who nearly died but recovered and went on to become a great president who said to the head of the Soviet Union, "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall". There were great catches, great runs, great tackles, and great touchdowns as the 80's brought the rise and reign of the San Francisco 49ers. In the late 70's, Americans were captured and held hostage in Iran and released in the early 80's. My first vote for a Republican presidential candidate was cast in 1980 for Ronald Reagan. Our third and last child was born in 1981, and after moving to Sacramento in '86, unable to find work in Sacramento. I commuted to San Francisco for two and a half years. The Aids epidemic broke out in the 80's, and suddenly the sexual revolution was being brought to, if not a halt, at least a pause. Early on with very small attendance, an Aids Seminar was held at our church.
10132018PoSoupContest, Remembering The 80's, Michelle Faulkner
Bay area's crown jewel, The Claremont,
Where age 24 Steve Jobs and I talked,
Well, him--as to the future--I was shocked,
The guy aimed high, humble, who want for naught.
An unscheduled stop by a young Prince Charles,
That shook the hands of this Hawaiian kid.
Isabel Sanford's inebriated,
Big Head for A. M. Talk Show With The Stars.
The moment when Chris Kristofferson and,
Geraldo Rivera stuck in the lift,
Then there's Joan Baez mom, a bit of a rift,
Some more late check-in, Waylon Jennings band.
The resort, like San Francisco, midway,
Pearls in an oyster, San Francisco Bay.
***Same hotel where the late Ricky Nelson band stayed with wife Kristin who's actor Mark Harmon(--sister) from the show NCIS, who also visited there, whereto, I have already submitted a sonnet.
Date: 08/26/2019
The Buena Vista
We met innocently, yet always at the famous,
crowded, Buena Vista Cafe.
Renowned for Irish coffee and it's view
of the spectacular, San Francisco Bay.
Over Irish coffees, we shared our days.
You, the journalist and I, the teacher.
After awhile the jabbering ceases.
We are now out in the Sam Francisco
foggy night.
Kisses blessed by the moistness of the fog,
It feels so tenderly, touchingly right!
A magical cable car appears and whisks us away.
Up, up, up, those picturesque hills.
Then romantically down,down, down,
Into a candlelit night of delectable night of
Osso Buco and risotto.
The scent of aromatic garlic and oregano,
Pungently slithers through the thyme-filled,
still night,Bay Area air.
Panagiota Romios
4/13/2018
San Francisco God and Goddess
The softness of your lips, have never
left mine.
Strolling the sweet, confectionary San Francisco streets.
The all knowing stars to us, whispered,
"For now and forever, she is all thine!"
Suddenly, mystical rainbow bubbles came from nowhere.
Our souls rose with them, most joyfully!
Headed for celestial planets!
You and I, your lovely Isis.
You my most torrid lover, Osiris.
With my plentiful, long hair, Isis, I,
Creating a total veil concealing our lovemaking.
Thus, a child is created so utterly and phenomenally, breathtaking!
Panagiota Romios
4/5/2019
THE BEAT POETS BEAT
In the heart of San Francisco, Beat poet and publisher, Lawrence Ferlinghetti's City Lights bookstore shines bright, where words dance like shadows and the Beat poets ignite the night/
October 7, 1955 history takes a breath and five souls step onto the stage at Gallery Six, defying convention, flirting with death/
Allen Ginsberg, with fire in his eyes, unleashes “Howl” with a thunderous cry, a manifesto of madness and a rebellion against the lie/
Philip LaMantia, haunted, reads to his dead friend, his poetry, weeping, echoing a voice that refuses to bend/
Michael McClure paints images, Gary Snyder sings with the trees and Philip Whalen whispers wisdom, each line a gust of the breeze/
Jack Kerouac, a slick cat, the pulse on the side, cheering from the sidelines at the Six, his heart a drum, a ride, his “Beatitude” was full of pride/
Man, he was having a poet’s blast and wrote about that first gig of Beat poets at Gallery Six in The Dharma Bums/
Dig it people, Kerouac was a hipster and juicehead all rolled into one, his words will last into the beat of a new jazz thing/
The rhythm of jazz where poetry flows and grows, drunk poetry fans are lost in the haze, sipping inspiration, caught in the craze/
So, dig the jazz of Charlie ‘Bird’ Parker, Miles, Diz, and Monk where each note is a heartbeat, each beat a junkie’s funk/
Bebop intertwines a new vision in the structure of their poet dreams, crazed improvisational jazz solos are a tapestry of spoken word screams/
So let us raise a glass to words unchained, to the Beat Generation, where poetry reigned/
The echoes of City Lights, let their legacy shine bright, for in the lines of their verses we find our voice, our fight/
The sky was sunny, the temperature was mild, and the wind was calm and mild. Tornadoes are known to rarely occur here, but the winds can get rather gusty. There is no hurricane season here, but the summer heat can often be rather terrorizing. In these parts, there is a rainy season in winter that often produces very little rain. Earthquakes are widely common in California, but not so much in this valley region.
As I was saying, the sunny sky had created such awesome beauty on a late spring day. As I drove home, I looked up and into the west and observed a sunset in this month of May. I tell you, the bright clouds nesting in the western sky is enough to take your breath away.
Clouds are said to be the 'Dust of God’s Feet'. Perhaps today he portrayed his feet being comforted in the setting sun. The clouds were snowy white and perhaps, they too were staring at their own beautiful sight.
San Francisco once embraced us with beautiful views and captured us with the flight of kites. Whether renting or buying in the City by the Bay, the views were always a part of the price. Clouds? I don’t remember clouds there, but most days, after the fog, turned sunny and nice.
Where I live presently, there’s no Golden Gate Bridge, no super curving street, but there are views. Yes, I miss the fog and the foghorns, and I wish we had the cool San Francisco chills on those hot summer days. But no, I wouldn’t take anything for the cloud views that never cease to overwhelm me.
Yes, my mind sometimes flows to the city of hills and chills and the views from Twin Peaks. But I like Sacramento with views of the High Sierras, and I like the clouds I saw today.
06012015PSContest, Sky Poetry, Anthony Slausen
Contest entry 101620, Old Poems, Free Verse (003)
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A. 8P
Virus Covid Carrie is coming if you don’t watch out.
She’ll enter silently. There will be no shout.
She’ll hand over the virus without any big show.
‘Cause the fact that she has it, even she does not know.
Covid is hidden, a secret killer you see.
There are no lesions or pox on your face or your knee.
It preys on unsuspecting victims like you and like me.
So invite Virus Covid Carrie in, she brings a grocery.
Virus Covid Carrie just went to the San Francisco beach.
She is bringing you disease, and she is just out of your reach.
You greet her with a hug, a yell, a yelp, and a happy screech.
Within a month you’ll both be dead. Now ain’t that a peach?