"mendocino" poems - Hello Poetry

Stomped earth with broad feet Fastening fresh saplings into Whole forests Eight feet by eight feet, the grid Through winter month's To early spring Line of tree planters, twenty Sometimes less, sometimes more On Shasta, on Lassen, on Trinity Alps Douglas Firs and Ponderosa Pines In Mendocino, in Eureka Planting baby giants, Redwoods Sequoias in Sequoia National and Klamath Young men with hoe-dads Knew some old ones too Women as well, though few If you could bear the snow, the rain If you could bear back-breaking pain The glory is yours As was once mine Reforestation Go plant your line To be eternally in Mother Nature's good graces And kinship known by campfire

0

Dec 26, 2015

Dec 26, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC

pj-poesy

Cold Feet, Warm Hearth

Stomped earth with broad feet Fastening fresh saplings into Whole forests Eight feet by eight feet, the grid Through winter month's To early spring Line of tree planters, twenty Sometimes less, sometimes more On Shasta, on Lassen, on Trinity Alps Douglas Firs and Ponderosa Pines In Mendocino, in Eureka Planting baby giants, Redwoods Sequoias in Sequoia National and Klamath Young men with hoe-dads Knew some old ones too Women as well, though few If you could bear the snow, the rain If you could bear back-breaking pain The glory is yours As was once mine Reforestation Go plant your line To be eternally in Mother Nature's good graces And kinship known by campfire

25

Any feeling that I have comes from my throat but it's brewed in my heart and buried in my soul. A bitter ale beyond red tail and Mendocino swells. The grapes in all the wrath of fall and stories that we tell.

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Mar 27, 2013

Mar 27, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC

cardboard-grey

Annapolis Road

Any feeling that I have comes from my throat but it's brewed in my heart and buried in my soul. A bitter ale beyond red tail and Mendocino swells. The grapes in all the wrath of fall and stories that we tell.

10

The other night when it was foggy on the coast, we went indoors. Mendocino has not changed since we first camped here in the 60s. The Point Arena lighthouse strobes through the density of that darkness. I sat at the wooden kitchen table with my volume of Rexroth. The new twisty bulb over me gave off a pale light. I had something in mind to tell you about, but I forgot to say it. That full moon rose over the rain-fattened Garcia River. Don't the different testaments on our shelf back home need a new addition? A Now Testament, with new chapters always coming along. The experience of our full evenings becoming subheadings. Our early days held a war to worry about. We are far removed from the sorrowful explosions. The new ways of dying don't excite me much. Torn holes of hatred in the earth expand, while older ones smolder in our memory. Life could be filled with goodness. Maybe goodness is life and it is all that simple. What is not good is not life. Yesterday we went around the outer edge of that poor farm town. We sat in that small church with all the vaqueros, while the baby behind us cried and cried. I knew what she might be crying about. The place we were staying, out in the country, so far from it all. And lonely. Your voice hushed when I thought about writing these lines. I didn't say anything that might make you wish to be silent. The moon, soon buried in that mist blowing in off the sea. Everything here so slow and dark. It happened this way before. Even though it is a different form of darkness and loneliness, it is still here now. A few more years might make it go away. but that would no longer be now.

0

Mar 26, 2016

Mar 26, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC

tom-mccubbin

Mendocino Revisited

The other night when it was foggy on the coast, we went indoors. Mendocino has not changed since we first camped here in the 60s. The Point Arena lighthouse strobes through the density of that darkness. I sat at the wooden kitchen table with my volume of Rexroth. The new twisty bulb over me gave off a pale light. I had something in mind to tell you about, but I forgot to say it. That full moon rose over the rain-fattened Garcia River. Don't the different testaments on our shelf back home need a new addition? A Now Testament, with new chapters always coming along. The experience of our full evenings becoming subheadings. Our early days held a war to worry about. We are far removed from the sorrowful explosions. The new ways of dying don't excite me much. Torn holes of hatred in the earth expand, while older ones smolder in our memory. Life could be filled with goodness. Maybe goodness is life and it is all that simple. What is not good is not life. Yesterday we went around the outer edge of that poor farm town. We sat in that small church with all the vaqueros, while the baby behind us cried and cried. I knew what she might be crying about. The place we were staying, out in the country, so far from it all. And lonely. Your voice hushed when I thought about writing these lines. I didn't say anything that might make you wish to be silent. The moon, soon buried in that mist blowing in off the sea. Everything here so slow and dark. It happened this way before. Even though it is a different form of darkness and loneliness, it is still here now. A few more years might make it go away. but that would no longer be now.

34

Droppin rows Lil sweet hoes Starting to show Ah, new growth Bout another month Tie those ******* up Scroggin arms to buff Makin knuckles rough Outdoor grower Both a grower and a shower Homeboy didn’t you know, I grow outdo Organic food, sprinkling Had an idea, inklin Gonna try feedin in the evenings Prevent these girls from shrivelin See I Take care and pride Don’t let em get fried Use hemp string to tie Dog, that aint no lie Cause I grow out door Still liven white boy poor But I grow like a muthafuckin roar Build slow Leave ya wantin more I’m an outdoor grower Don’t really **** wit food crops Don’t really make friends with mad cops Don’t really like to eat pork chops But I will make you top drop with my Super green Grown squeaky clean Nothing obscene Goes in-between These rows No hoes Use my hands Part of the land Scan the horizon Make a new plan to Expand this outdoor grower I’m an out door grower Never use a mower Or snow blower I’m a outdo grower Got this **** wrapped up like a boa And you know Out door grow Doin 20 different strains Some seed, some clone brains My soil built to drain Up on the Willamette Valley plain See I hear all this **** About Mendocino And northern cali But the mid willamettre valley Grows better than anything in cali And I back that **** up Dab nail on leaning on a coffee cup Bruthas tryin to just stand up After rollin and smoking one of these blunts But I Try to stay humble Donate my wears to the needy I aint greedy Its about growin the best **** me I do that all day er-ry day To late Spetember from early May While farmers out gatherin hay I be growin the best **** in the USA I’m a outdo grower Half-assed rhyme flow-er Getting ******* to bend lower So all those buds get equal sun –

0

Jun 29, 2015

Jun 29, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC

s-lyman-temple

growing (junk rap)

Droppin rows Lil sweet hoes Starting to show Ah, new growth Bout another month Tie those ******* up Scroggin arms to buff Makin knuckles rough Outdoor grower Both a grower and a shower Homeboy didn’t you know, I grow outdo Organic food, sprinkling Had an idea, inklin Gonna try feedin in the evenings Prevent these girls from shrivelin See I Take care and pride Don’t let em get fried Use hemp string to tie Dog, that aint no lie Cause I grow out door Still liven white boy poor But I grow like a muthafuckin roar Build slow Leave ya wantin more I’m an outdoor grower Don’t really **** wit food crops Don’t really make friends with mad cops Don’t really like to eat pork chops But I will make you top drop with my Super green Grown squeaky clean Nothing obscene Goes in-between These rows No hoes Use my hands Part of the land Scan the horizon Make a new plan to Expand this outdoor grower I’m an out door grower Never use a mower Or snow blower I’m a outdo grower Got this **** wrapped up like a boa And you know Out door grow Doin 20 different strains Some seed, some clone brains My soil built to drain Up on the Willamette Valley plain See I hear all this **** About Mendocino And northern cali But the mid willamettre valley Grows better than anything in cali And I back that **** up Dab nail on leaning on a coffee cup Bruthas tryin to just stand up After rollin and smoking one of these blunts But I Try to stay humble Donate my wears to the needy I aint greedy Its about growin the best **** me I do that all day er-ry day To late Spetember from early May While farmers out gatherin hay I be growin the best **** in the USA I’m a outdo grower Half-assed rhyme flow-er Getting ******* to bend lower So all those buds get equal sun –

75

What a rush, a terrible rush At my own expense Running blind like always My sordid adventures But I'll be back soon I don't know how to drown In your tall trees yet And I envy them a little Embraced at their necks By loving ghosts Please hold me, too? Find me when I'm lost? Perhaps I'll kiss you with my eyes closed Pull you under me Wade more gently I'll cool you down Leave you just long enough To shiver in my absence Or taste the salt I left on your lips

0

Jul 8, 2015

Jul 8, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC

mmildbeast

Mendocino.

What a rush, a terrible rush At my own expense Running blind like always My sordid adventures But I'll be back soon I don't know how to drown In your tall trees yet And I envy them a little Embraced at their necks By loving ghosts Please hold me, too? Find me when I'm lost? Perhaps I'll kiss you with my eyes closed Pull you under me Wade more gently I'll cool you down Leave you just long enough To shiver in my absence Or taste the salt I left on your lips

20