Poetree
Roadtree
Nice to see
Near the sea
Redwood trees
Big Sur woods
Blue green waves
Kissing rocks
Birthing froth
Around them
And Beyond.
Poetry
Isaias & Irina
4/10/08
A Glimpse
Poetry is a glimpse
a sudden window that opens
to eternity and infinity
a paradox
how can words
speak the ineffable
but poetry teaches us
that possesion is an illusion
we are the surfer
and the waves
lead by
the deep ocean of life
where the fathomless
weaves all beings
with the substance of time
Isaias Nobel
4/15/2008
Tax Day In The USA
Rolo is planning on connecting the USA
to the rest of the world through humanism.
Do we need a Malibu market design
to learn how to share the road.
This thing of ours, this bus
seems to have a quality of magnetism,
so now we know why its so interesting
for Liz Medina
End caution sign upside down
where's Louie when you need him
back on the edge of life again
where the missionaries marked the trails
with mustard seeds
leaving behind luminous yellow hills.
It works better when I have you give me credit
than when I claim it for myself.
Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)
Critic In Bed
There are many times
when I find myself outside the national interests
picking strawberries on the ventura naval base
passing endless rows of domed tomatoes.
Highway 1 opens our hearts through our eyes
with its natural gifts
and a hitch-hiker outside Oxnard
We found a shell to empty ourselves
and fill the bus
as we switched to the 101.
Songs drifting up under the noise of our journey
from James who will be with us
until Santa Barbara.
Confusing Ojai with Lodi
but Dick knows Creedance Clearwater lyrics
clarifying the moment.
Thankfully Irina is passing dried apricots
and cheese crackers
and Erika let Ken use the women's bathroom
before her
I talk in my normal voice
and still everyone listens
we've just passed another historical landmark.
Ken and Kurt (Mobiel Poem)
From Suburbia to the Universe
Breathtakingly beautiful purple flowers
Lauren met us for lunch
on the Santa Barbara pier.
goodbye UCSB
she graduates in June.
Pelicans overhead
a seagull overly photogenic.
My favorite waffle cone with
disappointing ice cream
and Dick insisted on treating everyone to lunch.
We're back on the freeway that's always ending
And Walt's numbers are looking good
Our bus is named after Whitman by Ken and Isa
who explained our history to Richard
Philip's next door neighbor
who wanted to go on the bus with us
but like the pet sitters of Santa Barbara
he's trapped for the moment
with dependent clients.
Kurt and Ken (Mobile Poem)
Juan Bautista De Anza
Who pioneered this trail
opened a path for Walt
and we are not landing him
at Vandenburg Airbase this time
but heading to Morro Bay
Lunar alert, waxing over hills
no one has volunteered
to pay a prisoner
to clean this section of 101
it's a long time since our last flat expanse
but we're among grapevines again
covered in new bright green leaves
the wind rippling across grassy hills
fills Walt's head with thoughts of spring
his gasket's bulging.
Kurt and Ken (Mobile Poem)
Morro Madness
Visible erosion follows us
along with periodic mansions
as pinnacles of hills maintained by slave labor
the oppulence of the california coast
insults equality on the right and on the left
in almost every way we are vagabond poets
breaking the illusions of purchased happiness
with our allegience to Peace, Force and Joy
covering the outer skin of our bus
but the bus is refusing fuel
a new mystery for our driver
and the help he can enlist
it seems that Walt is on a hunger strike
Kurt (Mobile Poem)
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