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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: San Franciscodots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: koster
    ASL Info:    51 So. Calif deser
    Elite Ratio:    6.89 - 185/105/78
    Words: 498
    Class/Type: Poetry/Nostalgia
    Total Views: 934
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3617



    Description:
       i know it is a tedious subject, but i thought I'd give it the old try...nit oicking details and if you get a good sense of the history of the place making up so much of its present day mystique, it is actually a pretty run down and dirty place.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsSan Franciscodots
    -------------------------------------------


    something more than the post card views
    of the famous bridge of china town
    of cable cars of winding streets
    of fishermans wharf of the barbary coast
    of beatnik cafes and the summer of love
    of golden gate park of the strip joints neon flash
    of the missions trail of the mexican war
    something more calls the traveller
    to keep returning here
    the stranger sampling all is made aware
    of an insistent enervation affecting mood
    through hectic cars blurred crowds push
    there is a newness an urgent surge
    adding energy to the wheel of thought
    giving wider compass to its revolution
    a radical cry an exuberant shout
    a certain vitality a song bursting free
    that escapes and echoes frantically
    rebounding against victorian tenements
    layered hillside slums bay view villas
    and towering financial battlements
    high glassy cliffs slice through
    the lifting streaks of fog
    encouraged by some spirit passing
    will at sunrise sometimes reflect
    ghostly heaps of blackened rubble
    that once lay scattered
    where now the pigeons feed
    illusion weaves into the freeways traffic chant
    echoes of buffeted canvas sails
    blown taut above listing tar stained hulls
    below the wooden masts
    sleeping vessels creak and moan
    now lost in dreams forever
    left to rot when their riotous sailors
    spilled into the glittering mother lode
    building a drunken babylon
    that collapsed and burned
    in a splendid raging conflagration
    looking down today from any rocky hill
    into such busy confidence behold
    how serenely placed between clouds and sky
    and a glittering grey-green sea
    this city holds its heart
    high aloft like a signal flare
    marking the end of a seekers quest
    promising even a turbulent outcast
    a quiet shelter from restless schemes
    somewhere in the plunging quilt of streets
    love is found life exchanged faith renewed
    lies told bodies fall and hands reach out
    like quicksilver sinking into fissures
    tantalizing expectations bleed away
    leaving a lightning bolts path in memory
    here love is an old desperate need
    a fairy tale dream a dizzying belief
    and on the streets every smile seeks
    reassurance that everything still remains
    and in darkened tenement rooms
    under ceilings cracked and aged
    every kiss tries to reunite the lost
    who will forever search for peace
    and above beneath and around it all
    the slumbering earth wraps a hand
    loosely around time itself
    throwing every minute
    into an overburdened eternity
    because the next second
    might really be the last
    the sun the fog and the sidewalks
    merge into a milky twilight haze
    and this city awaits tomorrow
    for contributions offerings
    embellishments of the myth
    at night the moon still brushes
    the skyline with silver light
    the power here is graceful
    brooding in the alleyways
    brazen where civilizations
    spill together and blend
    like a thousand cans of paint
    thrown suddenly to the floor
    and those who are chasing after beauty
    believe it still can be found
    blooming amid this city
    whose grandeur is vapor
    whose souls refuse to grieve
    and somehow cling to good








    Submitted on 2006-04-01 11:36:32     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      Hi there,
    You are really devoted to Cali. This is good, I love pieces like this. I call them "add 'em ons".lol! Why? Because there really is no end. You can actully keep adding sentence after sentence and continue describing the subject. I love it! Take care, wanda
    | Posted on 2006-04-04 00:00:00 | by bigfineq | [ Reply to This ]
      I could imagine this being read in one of those beatnik cafes it has that kind of energy one associates with the beats. I love the flow. It has such energy. You grabbed my attention from that first line of ‘something more than the post card views’ and paint a picture of a city that brings it alive and recalls its history too even if it is a 'pretty run down and dirty place.' The catalogues of disparate buildings and vehicles like the cable cars of winding streets and sleeping vessels that creak and moan in dreams of riotous sailors. It is a feast for the senses, one can hear song bursting free to escape and echo against victorian tenements and ‘layered hillside slums’ and one can see the glass curtained architecture of towering financial battlements as high glassy cliffs Albeit, I imagine that you intended leaving a gap between ‘morecalls’ and you have three t’s in scattered but only one ‘l’ in traveller plus you have an added ‘d’ in pigeons and desperate in misspelled. These are minor nit-picking details, whereas, this is definitely amongst my favourites of your poems.
    hugs
    nessie
    | Posted on 2006-04-03 00:00:00 | by comradenessie | [ Reply to This ]
      That was amazing. Truly great imagery. I liked one bit especially:

    and above beneath and around it all
    the slumbering earth wraps a hand
    loosely around time itself
    throwing every minute
    into an overburdened eternity
    because the next second
    might really be the last

    The idea that earth can control time (in the view of the people, since that is all they know), and the people realize that any minute could be their last (and not only souly theirs, but everyone else's as well). I think that's everywhere, and you have captured the people from San Fran especially well.

    You're descriptions of not only the places, landmarks, and stores, but of the people. And I quite disagree with Amber, I think these lines:

    the sun the fog and the sidewalks
    merge into a milky twilight haze
    and this city awaits tomorrow

    especially added some mystique to your poem. I love the imagery, it really makes me wonder why I try to write poetry (as someone once said to me). As for the punctuation, I think it's best that you didn't put any. It has a natural flow, almost as if you know where there is a comma or period. And sometimes, parts flow into another invisible verse, and it could be interpreted two different ways, and maybe that's what you're going for.

    I definitely like that you 'scrambled' all of your stanzas together and gave to guidance to the reader--it made it more free. It's experimental and I'm glad someone took a risk of not doing a traditional piece. That's creative.

    Okay, that was kind of long, but I really enjoyed it and oddly, I have no critique. It's not that it's perfect, it could be improved I"m sure, I'm just not the one to tell you how.

    Thanks for the great read.
    | Posted on 2006-04-02 00:00:00 | by lemonpromenade | [ Reply to This ]
      Well you most definetely had so much imagery and description here, it almost takes away from the rest of the piece. Like i would read and get entangled in all the describing words, that i completely lost my train of thought of where the piece was headed. So after reading this a few times over and over trying to get a good
    feel for the piece i think it could be calmed down a bit. Its not the i don't think your descriptions are bad or anything it just gets to be a little to much at certain parts of this poem

    the sun the fog and the sidewalks
    merge into a milky twilight haze
    and this city awaits tomorrow

    Those three lines are the ones that seemed to give me the most trouble, other then that though i think this peice went very well considering there were no commas.... and well i liked it better that way too! Well hope i wasn't to harsh on this one. Ciao for now, Amber
    | Posted on 2006-04-02 00:00:00 | by amber_in_wyomin | [ Reply to This ]
      Well I have to say you really captured the essence of San Francisco. I've been there quite a few times(Last year was the last time) and it is a very unique place. I actually just posted something about the bridge in SF on my journal so finding your poem fits exactly in with my current state of mind. You have a style of tell it like it is and you tell it so eloquently. I enjoyed this one a lot. Great Job

    Eddie(ERA)
    | Posted on 2006-04-01 00:00:00 | by ERA | [ Reply to This ]


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