City Lights Window

[revolutionR]

I was writing this when you were still a child
playing with colored balls of the aeon
as the tiger rain fell on the nameless city
I lived in hotels inside books of poetry
some days I had only words I dreamed to eat
in the basement of City Lights I took up
residence in the minds of beat writers
a favorite poet lived in North Beach
The Black Rimbaud as they called him
favorite in Europe lived there too when I lived near
China town, I walked the streets looking
for the poem to manifest like a ghost
in broad daylight on the window of City Lights
those Frisco days and San Francisco nights
roaming down town looking for a book
that lived on the corner waving its arms around
a red river poet with his spare change cup
those days went by like the wind with a silver coin
I floated between tall buildings looking up
through the narrow cracks at the too blue sky
sometimes catching a wisp of saxophone note
in the alley through the enchanted air

[creativesoul]

yes- the poems do appear on the street sometimes- like a person whispering a secret in your ear-
sometimes in san francisco-
there is a voice of courage
standing on the fault line
in defiance of all logic

the truth is i loved looking at that bridge as a young woman, and now again as an old woman- somewhere in the bay
is my youth
or was that new york city- milano and nigeria?
all is not lost-
the vision is priceless-
thankful as i look up at the starz




nice---very nice- thank you

[Lostwire]

Another life or 3 ago '73-'74 I walked those north beach streets, that bookstore like a beacon amongst the hills....

[creativesoul]

Laughing I think...
I might have partied
With y all