Poems For Today - April 17

Loved the poem about our beautiful "sparkling" Aunt Bernice!
How I wish I could be on the road with you guys
sparking all that creativity and celebrating life together!


Riding Along The Road

riding along the road
with you
riding along
with you
writing along with you
writing along
spinning along, weaving new
spinning along with you
i'm the shenachie
the teller of stories and weaver of tales and singer of songs
singing along with you
in spirit i travel and sing
ringng out new tunes and
soon we find harmony together
riding along the road
with you

Shalom, paz y bien,
Kevin aka "que bien!"

James

James the boy who wanders
His youth all spent
He never pondered
Or understood
Why he must wander
He sang off key
But played his guitar
In a great key
He is so determined
To be someone
Who is totally free

June Robinson


HOY

Hoy estuve receptivo,
escuche, observe,
abri mi corazon
y mi intencion esta presente.
Soy uno,
intencionado,
conectado con los demas,
buscando las seniales,
andando.

Hable a mi Guia interno
y me ha respondido,
me ha puesto al paso de los peregrinos,
a compartir la mesa
y alimentarnos de luz,
de lo Sagrado.

Hoy, sensorial y espiritual,
inicio mi conexion
con el proyecto de mi vida.
Que ya lo conocia,
pero estaba dormido en mi.

Gracias al amigo que siembra el Mensaje.
Gracias.

Manuel Nava - Los Angeles - 04-15-2008

Poems For Today - April 16

Riding on the Back Tank from Morro

Let's see how far we'll get
A climbing road twists through the alpine hills
Of golden poppies and purple vetch
Moss covered trees anticipate the arrival
Of the dinosaur park
Let's turnaround and stop for photos.

A teradactyle hung from an oak near the house
A simple case of shameless roadside seduction.
We find ourselves in bed with a T-Rex eating surfboard.

Back in Morro it was easy to superimpose
The image of the monolith on the smokestack
And the image of the sala over the rock hill
Remembering Punta de Vacas.

Last night we watched the preview
of Silo's first monthly transmission.

Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)

Negro In Black

Automatic transmission service atmosphere once a month
Fairground music with Chinese tones bending notes behind voices of happy children
Andean flutes and dust whirlwinds beside us
He stood behind a crystal clear podium opening a consise world view
That pointed Humanistic action towards the future
How odd we had referred to lifting up parking lots and spirits throughout our journey
To now find Negro decreeing the need to lift the enormous wall that stands between us.

Almost too much clarity for three minutes
We had to watch it three times last night
And another three times this morning
Carrying it with us in our heads on the road.

Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)

We are on the Fast Course and Walt's flying on an apparently bottomless back gas tank

The plains dotted with farmworkers planting an empty field
Our Ceaser Salad of the future
Crop after crop, it's Steinbeck country minus the mice
Jose wouldn't let us into the bathroom in Greenfield
Because he wasn't finished cleaning it
June told him to back off,
I explainde the concept of fixed image in Spanish
And Erika gave him our tour postcard.
You can tell it's a poor town by the new Launderette
On Main Street.
High school kids passed the gas station in droves
Once asking questions for her sister the poet.
Moved by the parade of young lives,
Alone in Soledad's soltude.

Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)

How can the young rise above the market forces
That steer their needs with such mastery
That often old age comes sooner than one's awareness
Of the manipulator's expertise.

Cut off by a school bus on 183 heading West to Santa Cruz.
This is leafy green country with infinite perpendicular rows
splaying out from the highway.

Passing through the artichoke capitol of the world without Fidel
Seems to be missing something.
But I've never been more wrong since we were received
with thousands of laughs, giggles and bubbling joys
By the crew of girls who managed our culinary dream of
Deep fried artichoke hearts.

Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)

Isaias was going to pass you his pint of Rocky Road Ice Cream but he accidentaly ate it all

Kurt wondered if Watsonville was named after Sherlock homes,
which ken said was elementary my dear Kurt.
Purple ice plant carpets the sides of the freeway,
as the joy of the girls from Castroville
lingers in our hearts.
It's a Buena Vista Drive up Highway One to Santa Cruz tonight.
The cynicall revenge is removed from our hearts
By the open interest we encounter at every stop
we make these days.
Freedom Boulevard showed up right away.
We held our breathe as the frantic flashing lights
Of the Highway Patrol sped by in front of us.
I think we should drop cynical revenge from this poem
And Dick agrees with me.

Kurt, Ken & Dick (Mobile Poem)

Poems For Today - April 15

Big Sur Landscape

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)

More Poems From Today - April 14

You Just Can't Ride On The Bus

At dusk
In the quiet places
Of my mind
I sing a song
I wanted to say
Say often
Out Loud
Say how
Can you look at humanities suffering and ...

June Robinson


Writing About Reading Poetry Out Loud
By Jimmie Orlando

The first time I read everybody clapped halfway through the poem.
On the second poem I started making mistakes and going back to correct them,
ruining the time and feel of the poem on the page.

Which is another difficulty for me because the feel I have for line breaks
on a page means nothing when I'm reading the poem out loud.

I've been writing for the page and these line breaks seem funny and clumsy
when I read them to the audience.

On top of all that, I make a lot of mistakes when I read, because I am
simply not good at reading. And when I read for myself I do a lot of
doubling back so I can maintain the context of the author's intention
and not superimpose my own context over their words.

I remember writing a love poem for my girl friend a long time ago
while she was sleeping. I knew that my sentiments were true
and that I had expressed them with what I felt was a beautiful,
soft and lyrical manner.

And the first thing she said to me was that I had mis-spelled "intrepret",
which I have probably misspelled again here on this page.

So what I will do from now on is leave the poems on the page as I see them.
And when I read I will tell you about the poems and that will be my reading.

Poems For Today - April 13

Inside The Song


Memories of the rhythm
color visions we can feel
in the magic way the fantasy
dances to the real

In the naked changes
beauty blazes up as we hold on
to a rhythm we remember
all at once inside the song

Hold on to your song
and sing it high above the fears
Of drowning in an ocean
that's filling up your years

When your heart is sailing truly
Life is just a breeze
as we dance across the diamond waves
our love has come to see.

And anything you say
will find a way to sing along
With a rhythm every body
sets to sea inside the song.

Dick Lasater

Goodbye San Diego

He's out checking the oil before 8am.
Karl can't be bad on the coaster express
Gifts of purple wildflower blooms
The Sonic envrionment on our bus has changed
Into the San Diego Wild Animal Park

From 6 to 9 park and ride, like Dick did
Passing through another mission
Caution, possible dust clouds for the next few miles
The vacuum is in the eye of the beholder

Kurt and Ken (Mobile Poem)

Call Box 08

After being encouraged,
Miguel told his dad to join the boy scouts
We've got the border patrol up our a**
Swimming near the nuclear power plant
Makes my skin turn green
It's Nixon's fault
Rolling through San Clemente
Were crossing the Orange County Line
Leaving his lies behind us
Count your blessings instead of sheep
On the Camino de Los Estrellas.
Windshield Art and faraway snow
It's hard to know
Where we'll be staying next
Taking our time,
Making good time
Lifting the bus up with us
No rush hour traffic update
On Sunday

Kurt and Ken (Mobile Poem)

Restaurants On The Run

What is the inverse of 12 volts?
Add a zero and that's close enough for our refrigerator
And charging the video camera
Balsa Chica Road
Just passed the Highway Patrol
So hide the co-pilot so we stay out of trouble
Paranoia about police
Is perfectly reasonable in Los Angeles
Riding down the Long Beach
We just saw a deep blue Pyramid
Leaving Swami Yogananda's palace
Far behind
Twenty minutes from LAX
Playing bumber cars with the Bravo Trucks
Separation Anxiety.
Are you feeling that?
No, the bus is full and so are we
With joy left over for all of you.

Kurt and Ken (Mobile Poem)

More Poems For Today - April 12

You May Be Wondering

You may be wondering

Why I called you all together

On this fine evening

More than six billion strong

When everyone knows

That more people make more problems.

A modest gathering would have been nice

A comfortable size

But six billion, megacities bursting at the seams?

What possible good can come from this?

Unless…Something New is waiting to emerge

In six billion hearts

Six billion Answers, starting softly

A beautiful concert, so many voices

Distinct tones, unexpected harmonies.

A Universal Human Nation.

-Paul Tooby

SNAPSHOTS

Awestruck

Exquisite, brilliant, sea-swept, cragginess,

crisp, vibrant, blue aqua marine, fading in and out

of sudsy crests and profound turquoise beauty.

The stark power of raw color blinds me with it's intensity.

It was a breathtaking ride, the ocean and jagged coastline beckoned us...

The Open Road

Green sign-age floating by us on spindly legs,

announce our arrival and departure as they recede

into the infinity of our past.

Bumpy and jostling; soft drafts breezing through our open traveling windows...

Expanses of ugly fast food and used car franchises, sprinkled by incongruous

quaint pink arches covered in orange terra cotta curling tiles,

And the ubiquitous, ever present, pole topped palm trees, in rows everywhere,

like so many hollywood housewives having a bad hair day.

This was Ventura...

Silly Animals - San Simeon

The sleek, grey, torpedo shaped blob,

one among a multitude of sunning roly poly others,

nonchalantly flips wet sand onto his back

in the brilliance at ocean's edge.

Limpid pools of shining depth stare back at us with utter unconcern,

as if to say, "and who are you standing there, invading my domain".

Seals are funny ...

Elephant Feet!

The ancient elephant footed palm trees ride by us,

Solid presences amidst the bustle of an LA afternoon sidewalk,

Our van, a passing, silent witness to their incongruity.

Erika Teahan

4-12-08

Poems For Today - April 12

SPARKLING BERNICE


Shining blue deep sky
hills,
birds,
old high trees,
old living silence on the wind
surrounding us,
and then, like in the fairy tales
she arrives,
wrapping up all of us
with her tender regard
with genuine interest
Each one of us,
our inner life,
our dreams,
what we are
and where we are going,
smiling and sparkling
with childhood mischievousness
the wise shaman
sitting on top of the mountain of life
welcomes all of us,
embracing each one by one,
offering
inexhaustable love
for human kind

Smiling and sparkling,
opening the poetic path,
the inner, real one
to our hearts,

Aunt Bernice,
our aunt,
my new old friend
stands up.


Isaias Nobel
Santa Cruz, en la maniana del jueves 10 de abril de 2008.


101 SOUTH THROUGH SANTA BARBARA

Off shore oil
Three heads on a hill looking back at
swathes of yellow flowers
We are inside the post industrial highway
spewing oil around us
like a sun burst artery
on El Camino Real
Barbara is an odd name for a saint
And we're beginning a freeway that just ended
Whats up with that?
America is becoming hard and brittle


Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)
4/11/08


Tall Giacometti Palms
Historical Luminous is very tired
as we pass Krishnamurti's Ojai town
Through La Conchita mussle shoals

We called it the flame of attention
which begged us not to let it go out
on the Ventura highway

But now we are more concerned with
the quality of that attention
as if the palm trees were trying
to lift the parking lot into the sky


Kurt & Ken (Mobile Poem)
4/11/08



City of Expressways
surrounded on all sides
buy the new cars inside LA

Sepulveda vienen y los carros
son lleno de grande casas y estoy no boy
anymore

Avenue of the stars and more cars
we were cut off by a big black convrtible mercedes
As bodies hung from the street lights
drivers oblivious

And you've been holding out
I'll give it to you

Monica is another odd name
for a saint.


Kurt and Ken (Mobile Poem)
4/11/08


Tonight Saint Diego is feeding us
So we can read for them tomorrow
without sorrow or regret
I'll bet

In fact I'm throwing out
All my expectations and speculations
On my own
Before Ken even told me it
was the right thing to do!

I can't tell him how kind
the traffice is acting this evening
Its a surprise party on the 405
And Jeanie is out of the airport
And on the bus

Car culture rules
with an iron fist

Bless the bus


Kurt (Mobile Poem)
4/11/08