Friday, June 24, 2016

BERKLAND As It Want To Be









It's one step beyond, baby






Who wears short-shorts?
We wear short-shorts


Wrap yourself up in
the Flag


 It's the American way
individualism




 Whatever way your tastes
may run




 There's something for everybody
whatever floats your boat



 

Some maintain
 that the golden days
have faded away



 

 We know come what may
The USA is here to stay




 We look mortality in the face
and only fear
fear itself






 

 So keep on, Cupcake
the taste of life is sweet








 Last night



Her hair had a purple fringe layer
over a white under curtain
Just as I tried to image grab it
She suddenly bent over
and showed me her can








24 June 2016









Wednesday, June 22, 2016

In Memory of The Irish Students One Year Gone





 Blessing on their souls
 and on all those hurt
by the tragedy



Sadly recalled
yet not to be forgotten
16 June 2015




22 June 2016

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Solstice Sail to San Francisco Past





Scrimshaw depicting
a saucy young lady 
of the Barbary Coast










A Child of Summer
The Flaneur welcomes its arrival
 with a small, floating
ceremony






 Historic bench 
from the Oakland ferry,
Open your golden gate




 Swanning around 
 a soigne scene,
Smoked-out indeed





Rescue at sea,
Flashing on nautical safety




 Virtual San Francisco
made of Os and 1s





We're bound to sail 
around Telegraph hill
to primordial Fisherman's Wharf




Nice to skirt 
the big-city cubism




Come on down
to the Big Dig





 Totem and taboo
Iconic diving suit man





 Gordian knot 
Woven rope
associated with the dream state






 Outside the flags were whipping




I sheltered under the boardwalk





 Out of the wind




 Still in the swim,
Hyde Street Pier




 Bob, bob bobbing along



 Aesthetic and industrious,
my inclinations



 A man in a life-preserver
as seen from the deep




 A lover of life,
unadulterated freedom




 This kid was my hero
of the day
So many come and barely touch water
He jumped in the waves with a wahoo,
His parental units never trod the sand
sat nearby on the pavement
subsumed in their individual devices


His joy was contagious





 It was he and me
and the sea
gull



 His t-shirt read
DON'T STOP
and he never did
I regreted his dull parents for him
How they ignored his vivid vitality,
Then I watched chubby Mom
shower and feed him,
Dad show him a rope demo
and realized he might be lonely
 but still quite lucky





 Swirling bottle of gold dust




 Led to the forty-niners



 The plutocrats followed



 Necessitated a police state



Happy trails
Ghost dancer



As the afternoon elongated
 I was atmosphericly high




Circling with shorebirds







I knew the way to
San Jose
in air quotes






En voyage,
jamais



I am up here now
merely need to close my eyes





Handcuffs were common
during surgery
and dental work



Industrial artifacts
imagining Philip Guston
paintings




I'm up here now
Plum tuckered


On a thin woolen blanket
I feel off to sleep




I dreamed an secret elevator lowered me into a substratum of time gone by
I was moving over my shoulders toward a train tunnel a vast gaping worm hole
I understood that my movement in the darkness was motion into the past
That I still had a boat to catch back at sea level soon





When I awoke at 6:35 PM
A vast ceiling of clouds had rolled in 
making thing even breezier and chilly 
I shivered awhile at the far end of the beach
The clouds stretched over the whole sky in strips
all variegated and interestingly shaped
The sun began to reappear toward the horizon
to set behind Mount Tamalpais,
It all lit up as I walked to Pier 41
and sat a while in Musee Mechanique
 to warm up 
The bay was traversed by the most profuse
and largest squadrons of pelicans I'd ever seen
Parading in elegant formation after fish




No battery left for me camera tonight
for my spectacular crossing home


All that remained was my return trip
I rallied but I was ready to go home for supper
and coffee and out of brandy to boot
More herb would only might me more fugue-like and tired

So the crowning irony of all
I had used all the juice in my phone camera
When, for a solid hour, the sky
just bloomed in endless mind-manifesting color 
and expression formed by the objective chance formation of clouds

Still somewhat chilled
I had to sit inside on a comfy seat
But the entire crossing the sunset all over the sky 
just got better and better
It really was all too much for my sensorium

Then followed the most transcendent occurance
when a squadron of pelican followed us
out the North bay flying at the level of the Bay Bridge
and hovering briefly underneath 
Regrouping before they began a long slow descent
parallel to our boat's path

Almost hallucinatory in its intensity, I followed them 
as they swerved toward the other side of Alameda
Then could only marvel as the sky not only stayed lit 
the colors became more intense
Great disordered clouds to the North in the forms
of Max Ernst crossed with tome the of Maxfield Parish


Then the fairy book ultimate
as we deboarded a shipmate
pointed down the estuary
There just clearing the Oakland Hills
The broad gold coin of the full moon
I walked up Washington 
ecstatic and exhausted







Let this antique San Francisco made lantern
stand-in for an truly outstanding sunset,
And all the elements of contentment






20 June 2016