Sunday, September 21, 2008


White caps on black sand
on the northern California coast
where I learned how to drive with my thumbs

Green trees on sharp turns
on the way down to Big Sur
where Seeley gave his Thanks to Gravity

Foggy memories on monarch shore
on a timeout from the cause
where I learned destiny was following me

Condor dots on blind sun
on a moment to myself
where I learned how big the world could be

X spot on blue line
in between San Fran and Crescent City
where I earned a single moment of free

Closed eyes on rhythm waves
on the northern California coast
where I wondered what home would be

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This kind of puts me in mind of Jack Kerouac.

I like the bit about destiny following you. Kind of made me ponder the meaning of it. To be followed by fate, rather than led by it.
i want to go there now ..
to home in so i can create my own homing ..
but then again, really, i aleady have.
to me these read as memories.
X Spot.

I see what you did there.

In all seriousness, very well done.
Crushed: that was my favourite line too. It's a lesson I learned on those travels - don't worry too much about your fate, it's just whatever happens to you. We don't follow it, it follows us.

Foam: Memories is exactly what they are, of a pivotal time and place that helped me get from there to here.

Rayke: ha, didn't even think of that - maybe X got into my subconsious. Anyhoo, good to see you still rocking out.
feels like almost being there, cruising down the street...


I especially like that last stanza:

Closed eyes on rhythm waves
on the northern California coast
where I wondered what home would be

Condors on the horizon.

I am told they are too dumb to go extinct, and crash their eggs against rocks, to no avail.

Sort of like yours truly. :)
I tried to say how good this ride was yesterday but the computer dumped me over the cliffs into the roaring whitewater of rocky disconnection.

We must be eating the same stuff, or drinking the same stuff....

Probably not smoking the same stuff....

Actually I've been smoke free for a month... Gasoline, food or cigarettes.... cigs can win only for so long....

Got my on the road poem up right now too.

Glad to be back, I'm home once more

peace out
I love how much locations can hold somehow, such that even the most generic of postcards will erupt a flow of memories.
Funny how when I read this it evoked thirty five year old memories of Big Sur, the place where I got the TWM name.
Hey Yas if you're out there - I can't get on your blog no more, what's up?!
CD: thanks, i imagine all your travels help you understand that feeling very well.

Ivan: ha, interesting form of backhanded (or taloned) survival instinct.

Toast: hey hey, way to one-up me there, you! ;-)

Rubenh: Welcome here. But, different than what? It is different than my usual stuff. A new direction, perhaps.
Eric: I had a feeling you'd be here today! Vulcan mind meld perhaps? Looking forward to checking out your 'on the road poem'.

PP: speaking of Vulcan mind meld, wow, crazy you talk about "the most generic of postcards" because I wrote this as a writing exercise, staring at an old generic postcard of a beach in northern california, that actually had scripted across it, 'northern california', that i bought in 01 and never sent to anyone.

TWM: Big Sur is a place you never forget.
Oh I just love that last line.
Thanks Monique. I visited David's myspace and the youtube poems - fun stuff with some unpredictable turns. Especially the ending of Willy.
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Ahh, so you're a Trekie too, ehhh?


Live long and prosper...
Eric: well, wouldn't go that far, but I did recently re-watch the search for spock, so, well, i'm certainly not opposed to the show.
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