Sacramento Poems | Examples

Ode To Fruit Friends

I was despondent that I had to leave them.
Moving two thousand miles away, it was
unlikely that I would ever see them again.
They were trees, but it seemed somehow
They knew that we would be forever apart.

The lemon and orange trees stood strong
on opposite sides of the backyard. The
Santa Rosa plum and another plum tree
of a different variety graced that same yard
along with a Rose of Sharon in between.

Two tall palm trees rose high in the sunny
Sacramento sky. Two nectarine and two
peach trees lined the eastern border of the
property.

Eight fruit trees. Seven offering nothing but
sweetness, and a lemon tree producing the
best-tasting lemons. And we were leaving
'Bitter-sweet' behind, unable to explain.

If lemons could talk, they would have said,
"Take me with you"!  If they could utter words,
the plums, the peaches, the nectarines, the palms,
and the Rose of Sharon would have pleaded with us
saying, "Please don't go?"

But we moved away, and our dear Fruit Friends
became the possessions of the new property owners.

My Friend, Time

From Sacramento to Indianapolis, she accompanied me
on the plane, ever reminding me that she was there.
She lived with me day and night for a year or more,
tightly holding my hands both physically and mentally.

Her presence  was most pronounced in my hands; so much so,
that it was very difficult to tie my own shoes because of her.
She even encouraged me to refuse seeking medical attention,
suggesting it would be better to bare and embrace her.

TIME, she said, heals all wounds, especially ailments like mine.
She was right because none of my friends' remedies worked.
She insisted that many illnesses are helped by medication,
but in our modern world, most of us are 'over-medicated'.

Moreover, she indicated that in my case, without predicting
when, TIME would prove to be my best friend. Prior to meeting
Miss Pain, I had experienced bits and pieces of her presence here 
and there, but never more intimately than in the year of 2012.

Sacramento

SUNDAY mornings and sunsets at their very best

AND my neighbors were among the very best people

COMMONALITY and Community embrace her atmosphere

REALISTS make room for both optimists and pessimists

ATTITUDES tended to mix with a sense of balance

MORE like home to me than was my birth home

EVENING heat often surrendered to Delta Breezes

NEVER thought that I would ever leave her until 2021

TODAY, reluctantly, I'm learning to live without her

Of places I've lived, for 35 years, Sacramento was the best

081423PS

I Miss Sacramento

I have lived in three out of the four regions in America.

My experiences in some of them have been less than civil.
Issues in life, good and bad, may linger with us for life.
Stories that plague one's beginnings need not inhibit one's end.
Shielded from destructive effects in life, I did rise and thrive.

Satisfaction saturated my entire being
After we arrived at our new residence in '86.
Community spirit was there, alive and well,
Rendering a sense of family with great neighbors.
Anticipation of a better life for our kids was paramount.
Most experiences in this Northern California city were positive.
Every thought of leaving her filled my heart with grief and sadness.
Never had I lived for so long(35yrs.) in one community and loved it.
To every family member and friend, I say, "I brought you with me."
Of this I am sure: They say that home is where your story began; but
                           where I was born never felt like home to me. Like
                           nowhere else, Sacramento felt like home to me.

051223PS

Peace

Peace

The lonely island
The soothing water sounds
The various shaped marshmallows in the sky
The fish which live and travel under the water
Wherever there is only pace is where I wish to be

Wither it be a yacht out at sea
a sailboat on the Columbia River
a fishing boat on the Sacramento River
An island in the Pacific without smoke
Or a cruise ship with a sweet lady

Even Ireland where the clovers are always green
And everybody dances while
Wearing green and white clothes on refreshing day
Would be a welcome stress-free change- Peace where are you?

Embraces

Do you remember the days when handshakes were standard?
Hugs and embraces were reserved for 'that something special'.
Although I am not aware of such, I suspect there has been some
study about 'the embrace's rise'. There has to be an explanation.
Anyway, about the embrace and my relationship and experience with it:

There is an embrace that never leaves a trace.
There is another embrace that can never be erased.

There is an embrace that greets you and says hello.
There is another that heals when you are feeling low.

I once experienced an embrace that held me tight in Toledo.
There were many more that held me ever so warmly in Sacramento.

When life beats you up and leaves you weary, lonely, and cold,
God provides hugs and embraces for the healing of our souls.

031823PSCtest, A SIMPLE POETRY CONTEST. John Lawless

O Whispering Wind

Good morning, O whispering wind.
I hear the sound of your awesome voice,
but I do not understand a word you're saying.

If I Had a recorder, I would document 
the sound of your captivating presence.
I would study your arresting melody
and seek to interpret your language.

I have known you in several different ways.
In my retirement years in Central Mississippi,
you are whispering soothingly in unmistakable tones.

In my youthful early years 50 years ago,
across the Great Lakes in Southern Wisconsin
and in the Windy City, you blew me, often with
hostility as I walked along the sidewalks.

For 8 years in San Francisco, in the early mornings,
your Pacific winds blasted me ever so liberally.
In Sacramento, for 35 years, your Delta Breezes
cooled me down from a long and hot summer day.

9:15AM022213PS

Unplanned Landings

I have not been on a plane since 2019
That was some three months before COVID-19.
The 2019 trip was one of the worst of my flights.
However, although uncomfortable, it was planned.

But I prefer to tell you about our unplanned flight.
In 2016, my wife and I boldly decided to fly one way.
The flight back would be 'up for grabs'; go with the flow.
One way, Sacramento to Chicago by plane.  Not a problem.

Chicago to Jackson, Ms. by train.  Longer time.  No problem.
One way ticket from Jackson back to Sacramento.  Problem!
Our affordable and preferred carrier did not operate in Jackson.
So, we rented a car that turned out to be a truck and drove to Memphis.

Out of Memphis, we boarded our flight with three stops to Sacramento.
Are you tracking me so far? Can you see the 'venture flight' unfolding?
Jackson to Memphis by ground; Memphis to Houston; Houston to Portland;
Portland to Sacramento.  Some 879 additional miles of unplanned
travel, but two senior citizens who boldly went with the flow were home at last.  

071822PSCtest, Flight three Poetry, Chantelle Anne Cooke. 3P

On Being Totally Healed

Thanking God, His most graciousness, I am all healed.
Totally at peace, my grateful body now feels.
Crushed knee, thigh broken in two pieces.
I howled uncontrollably,with no ceases.
Trauma center,six hour surgery.
Hospital, heaven on earth! 
Food for royalty.
Kindness galore.
Perfection!


Tribute to UC Davis Trauma Center, Sacramento, California
Thank you, miracle workers!
Pangie Romios 

Note to poets. Horrendous fall in November. Took 6 months to heal.
How great the ability to walk is! It feels akin to flying.
Thanks to all of you who wrote, read my poetry and supported me.
And a first class family, who stood by me, on this long road to
recovery.

All of you are angels!

5/21/2022

In the Doctors Office

In the Doctor’s Office


A poetess, sits and waits.
Wondering his pronouncement
on her future fate.

I realize at times, other poets, this 
process, you have endured.
The tension, the mystery, one
feels as a sentenced Moor.

Please do call my name, i beg, do
let me go!
This morning in icy cold, Sacramento!

        
                       12/9/2021

Travelogue

I stuffed my pockets full of California minutes,
Set out from Bakersfield before the break of day.
Checked out a waitress at a coffee shop in Needles
Then blew through Flagstaff on my way to Santa Fe.

Cut loose and rootless, making random left-hand turns
Straight razor whiskey, gotta love the way it burns

Pulled up at Pueblo for my ration of tequila
Long after hours in the Garden of Repose.
I paid my lady love a call in Carson City,
Got tanked in Reno with a Sacramento rose.

Street lamps and neon on a warm midsummer’s night
Drawn toward the tunnel at the end of so much light

Broke bread in Stockton with a Guatemalan dancer.
Shook down a flop house called The Shady Rest Motel.
Laid low in Fresno for the balance of my paycheck, 
Got back to Bakersfield in time to raise some hell. 
	
I’m gonna ramble till the swallows leave for Egypt. 
Gonna ramble till the Happy Prince goes blind.
I’m gonna ramble till I’ve gathered up my troubles. 
Gonna ramble till I’ve left ‘em all behind.

Might put my suitcase under the bed, 
But I always leave it packed for later.

Route 66ish No 11

Route 66ish No 11

A young girl from near Sacramento,
Was chewing a tasty pimento,
She then bit her tongue
And although very young,
Cried out "Shucks! NOW I've got a memento!"

Praying For Autumn Rain 2

In the Sacramento Valley where I RESIDE,
This Summer has been long with high TIDES of HEAT.
Every season has its purpose, often refusing to RETREAT,
As if at war with mortals and refusing to concede DEFEAT.

Heat wave after wave has often hoovered from time to TIME.
This Summer, it's taking her longer to cool down and go in DECLINE.
Although many times we are very blessed with a cool night BREEZE,
There are times the Summer heat SQUEEZES, putting us under SIEGE.

This year, September came in as if angry with a three day heat wave,
which added fuel to the hundreds of wild fires already burning up the WEST.
We must learn more about the seasons, realizing against her we cannot PROTEST. Mortals are never a match against Mother Nature, but we must learn to love her, work with her, treat her gently, and prayerfully leave the rest to The Lord of All.

091020PS

Pony Express

It is said that in the good ol' wild west
the promptest postal mailing was the Pony Express.
greatest agile riders in the nation
the ten-day journey of mail
what could go awry?
Johnny fry was the leading jockey
Mail deposited in a mochila saddle and
POW!!!
the explosion of a cannon signified the commencement
of the dash against trains.
Galloping onward at a near ninety miles per hour
the mustang relaxed to a halt as 
Harry Roff seized the limelight.
And there you have it, cowboys and cowgirls
all the way to Sacramento 
mail was delivered.

Sacramento River Wordscape

Redding Poem 2
"Sacramento River WordScape" 

These descendent waters swim like mad lagoon fish, 
Heading decidedly south with a fiery mindless turn,
Their cool liquid urgencies reaching to all sides enticing
The bosomy turning earth and its pectoral indecencies,
With an impotent power unknown to anyone alive now,
As watery signatures knife their way into the crestfallen sand bars,
Adrift in an ambiguous undertow of death-marked reticences;
Swimming and floating lazily as a red lily floats downstream,  
Enveloped cooly in blue clarity, absorbed by diamond sureness,
These arching trees lapping inward the reeking salmon atoms,
As rippling currents of heaving hands and wild bone sneezes,
Salvage the unsalvageable, and a solitary blue bird
Jiggling a crimson ring, as it bobs upon its ascended perch.

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