San francisco
My eternal city by the bay
My home, my sanctuary, my playground
My everything then and now
Years spent hugged by your fog
Tucked between your rolling hills

Long days and sleepless nights
Cold days and rainy nights
Sitting in the dark
Thinking and plotting
Tears filling my eyes planning my goodbye
My escape
And not to return
Ever!
San Francisco

Everyone needs a fan.
Some earn their living from fans.
Some despise them, yet still do the things that attracts them.

My city attracts fans.
They come from all over the Plain.
Their favorite writer lived and died here.

His wife still occupies the only home the writer ever owned.
He's buried in our local cemetery.
The headstone isn't fancy it bears his full name, his years on earth and some boxing gloves. Though all the stories I've ever heard said he always fought in the streets.
And two words.
"Don't Try".

Fans often leave beer cans, wine bottles, cigars and cigarettes, notes and printed copies of his work.
Which to me is all fine except when they decide to visit after hours and leave their messes behind.
If you come here seeking to catch a glimpse of his home and maybe even his wife. You will only see large old Sycamore trees and giant palm fronds that hide his home like a Gisha's silk fan across her face.

If you don't already know where it is good luck asking any of the locals.
San Pedros always been a rather ruff port town the place where sailors and ****** came to spend their money and test their skills.

They'll lead you all over, up and down streets similar to his with its Royal Palms lining each side of the block.
All poking their fronds towards the heavens a hundred feet above the L.A Harbor.

When you come here you will be welcomed with white California smiles but when you start asking questions about his ivy hidden classic Los Angeles Spanish style villa with its fruit trees and grape vines.
We'll first tell you to please be respectful which will only help convince you we are telling you the truth.
Before we write down directions sending you to the wrong place.

That's how Hank would've wanted it.

we walk beneath the weight of the outside
birds sing in tune with the collective
& trees reveal their 50-year-old whispers

homes along the way glide above the sunshade
in-between blanketed shadows and sidewalks covered in gum

neighbors swim in the darkness behind blackout curtains
their beds balance on cups of bedside water
& a yellow candle glows above the city

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
It has full of beautiful things inside,  
108 of waves, you are searching for.
The true colours you love, wrapped up in a blissful layer by layer,  our doorway to knowledge path,
Expounding the absolute power,
As committed and receptive naturally.

The parcel I am sending you, to say how much I miss you.
Holding the heart- " the mystical heart",
Where you always remain, beautifully inside it.

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
The remaining just flower for you, the way the potters wheel is,
Opens up various levels of perception,  
Everytimes puts out, when it silence, gets hurts.
I am trying to be flower for you to your potential,  external  and largely fortunately internal.

I am sending a parcel  on its wings,   be careful when you open it.
Better to maintain conducive atmosphere
Is called KAVACH, create a cocoon energy inside,
That simply transmit that you wish.

The parcel , it has , things inside,  full of beautiness
That you had initiated into meditativeness,  
generating receptivity , you transmitted into me,
In a short time,
as a doorway to knowledge.

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Trying to  praise your emotional integrity,
Whatever i send, be careful when you open it.
The beautiful things inside it,  The thought
Quiet powerful transforms spiritual process.
Starting the aware of kundalini with the help of ganapati.

I am sending a parcel on its red wings.
Grounded bases of balance emotional issues.
For reduction of anxiety to energize your powerful spirituality.
With another parts of parcel  on its orange wings.
Which help you to open up for the feeling of
Maintaining harmoneous relationship together.
Because of human beings being empowered with this.

To promote your beautifully things,  self confedence and
To be continued effective manner in which you are travelling miles and miles,
See in this parcel.

I am sending a power with  its yellow wings,
Be careful when you open it.

It has full of beautiful heart , the mystical heart..
On its green wings
Having full of love , kindness,  experiencing compassion which you opened a balance of sympathetic love.
During our conversations.

I am sending a parcel on its blue wings .
When you open it carefully,  you will find positivity,
Singing a song that you most love.
It has also contain a indigo one called 3rd eye
Helps you to visualize inside
And connected the way the path of spiritual heaven.

I am sending a parcel on its violet wings
The crown you will find,
When you open it carefully.
Enjoying with spiritual connections.
Creation of emotion, bonding meditative path.
Melt completely wisdom.
Leaving probably me alone
In the world a path spiritual
Where we will be reunions
Our soul again and again.

Behold San Gabriel!
the far mountain is
stunningly ascendent
the city's smog
dissipates into a
a welcomed hiatus
white glaciated peaks
bespeak nature’s regency
a City of Angels’ crowned
in a mystic halo once again

Thunderous roads are silent
highway death tolls nose dive
life expectancy for the driven grows
Mother’s cry a million less tears
Tollkeepers palms are left wanting

For the uberites
the celestial scales
of supply and demand
have tipped gas prices in our favor
A litre of petrol costs but a few pesos

cars roaring down side streets
coating curbs with
noxious exhaust has stopped
Street running stick ballers eye
2nd base manhole covers
as safe to steal again

Some have been granted
A reprieve from a harried life
vexations of frenetic ways dwindle
The welcomed respite of downtime
Salves a bruised and battered soul

We’re invited  to dip our toes
Into small pools of leisure time
Escape to a hobby’s fascination
luxuriate in childlike frivolity

Time has opened for families
An evening’s repast
is holy communion
The wholesomeness
of a home cooked meal
Manna from heaven our daily bread
We share a sip from a cup of salvation

Climb up slide down
some shoots and ladders
Gingerly remove a funny bone
Without the red nose buzzing
Spend time in Abuela’s old kitchen
Learn her secrets of family recipes
Passed down from ancient
Borinquen forebears

Challenge creative sensibilities
Let the muse whisper a song
Into your willowy ear
Draw a portrait of a loved one
wash a buena vista watercolor
Compose a poem of perfect simplicity
record the glorious fictions of family history
Place yourself at the center of its epic struggle
Go noodle a tune on the old upright
Dust off that old guitar and flash some new hot licks
Take out the bongos and bang away
The blues are routed for another day

Sing a family circle song
where Daddy sings bass
Take an afternoon nap,
let the cat purr you to sleep
Enjoy the escape
of an afternoon delight
Than walk the dog afterward
in warm eventide twilite

The skies are resoundingly silent
Gushing engines contrail plumes gone
Jets blessedly overthrown by
silhouettes of crows on the wing
Listen to a new meditative lullaby, the
splendid symphony of avian adagios

Plug in to your body electric
Learn to breathe as deeply as you love
Listen to the rhythms of your heartbeat
And fine tune the condition of your soul

Eschew usurpations of politics
And tyrants that cajole to oppress
Seek solidarity in common citizenship
Take refuge in the courage of integrity
And dwell in the unity of the holy spirit

May a pandemic of love consume you
May your crisis open a portal of grace
May the closeness of friends and family
Restore you to a much better place

San Gabriel Mountains beckon
His halo crowns us all
stirred by the trilling trumpet
Wholly affirmed and filled
We answer his call

Bob Dylan: Thunder on the Mountain

Puyallup WA
4/21/20
jbm

If You Come to San Miguel
by Michael R. Burch

If you come to San Miguel
before the orchids fall,
we might stroll through lengthening shadows
those deserted streets
where love first bloomed ...

You might buy the same cheap musk
from that mud-spattered stall
where with furtive eyes the vendor
watched his fragrant wares
perfume your ******* ...

Where lean men mend tattered nets,
disgruntled sea gulls chide;
we might find that cafetucho
where through grimy panes
sunset implodes ...

Where tall cranes spin canvassed loads,
the strange anhingas glide.
Green brine laps splintered moorings,
rusted iron chains grind,
weighed and anchored in the past,

held fast by luminescent tides ...
Should you come to San Miguel?
Let love decide.

Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetry Life & Times and Muddy River Poetry Review. Keywords/Tags: San Miguel, vacation, summer, love, affair, cafe, cafetucho, anhingas, cranes, sea, tides, bay, moorings, green, brine

From the entire peace can see a power
Brings out a beauty would stock the soul
Highlights the strength with your smiles
sun is spreading lights Seeing your smile
warming the soul to open life enough.
When you have peace from entire enough
Opens the smile for beat of next breath.

When you smile, power me my power smiles
Shows a glimpse into you from entire peace

When your smiles comes from entire
Saves my day, breaks my peace
Nothing is powerful as moon shines
When you smile the stars blink
Unbelievable turns me to your presence
When your smile in your inner express
Speaks me your perfection of peace
Saves my day, tells me to be alive with
Every times smells staring entire
Encourages the sense to beat my breath
shows the beauty of peace in that smile
Wish to lost melting soul within you within this piece

The clicks of your smile makes my night
Gives me the light even in dark night
I can feel the vibrate of your smile
Makes me deeper and deeper and deeper
Closure and closure every time you see
Inspiring to be deep into this smile
Vibrate the heart , paint into spirit
As to make you Murali Madhuri in your smile
Makes me to be a poem watering
The beautiful words to experience perfection from your image
Feels as painter painting your picture In my heart in my soul
When you smile my world regains Its peace and happy I realize why I exist
To remember the happiest of happy.
The peace of entire peace with your beautiful smile.

a lovely person , caring; and sensitive...
I don't even think , wonderful things,
To your eyes blow warm moist.
The tension almost, draw attention,
Drop of eyes with full of tears,
Conveyed the message,
Telling me you are sensitive..

Waiting a way up and down
Flaming lips inside out
Taking long breath with a hope
Used to say, am i good?
Inspire me easing warmth,
Used to say to my soul onto you
I look deeply into your eyes,
into depths, you were unknown,
Taking you, into a knot.
Wish never loose the notion,
Knowingly unknowingly
You consumed me slowly,
With a breath, telling me,
You are sensitive!!

Never break, a slice made,
I am consumed inside you ,
feeling warmth setting me,
ease the length tightening the knot,
Telling me never break ,
Eyes out, tongue sleeps,
you are sensitive!!!!!
You are sensitive!!!!!