SAUSALITO POEMS: Concrete Steps

Poems by L.G. Corey

Late-like afternoon.
Blue hour
of uncertain shades:
 .
smoke and fog
.
on Wolfback Ridge,
creeping down
the concrete steps
 .
to cruise the streets
of Sausalito
hand in hand.
 .
Lovers.

_______________________________

NOTE: This is the third poem in my newly-begun work-in-progress — a poetic account of the years I spent in the hippie, artist community of Sausalito, CA during its heyday, roughly between 1959 to 1961. I was in my mid-twenties back then. It was there that I had my first real taste of freedom, my first weed, my first peyote, my first living-on-the-streets, my first beard, my first long hair, my first gay experience . . . . none of which I regret and all of which I cherish. This work-in-progress will go as it will, for as long as it wants until (if at all) it reaches completion.

View original post

Advertisements

Leonard Cohen, the morning and me

A really fine poem.

thecourseofourseasons

HPIM0832

The morning and I sing
broken hallelujahs
with Leonard Cohen.
(the minor fall, the major lift)
April sun shines
on the just and the unjust
as daffodils brown around the edges
and the tulips fade,
blossoms erupt
from redbud and dogwood.
(There’s a blaze of light in every word)
Song swells from the greening wood,
the triumphant sound of life renewed-
resurrection of springs promise
and the forgiveness of all winters sins.
(with nothing on my tongue but hallelujahs)
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah.

*** The lines in parentheses and the phrase ‘broken hallelujahs’ are taken from Leonard Cohen’s beautiful song, Hallelujah. It is one of many favorite songs from this wonderful songwriter and poet.

View original post

willow witchin’

I really like this poem.

thecourseofourseasons

January thaw 2

Willow calls to water,
everyone knows that,
deep water, clear water
sweet water, bright water.
I’m going to cut me two willow branches,
rub them till they’re smooth,
smooth as silky water,
gentle water, quick water.
I’m going to take my willow branches
and wander across the land,
divining that water,
dark water, singing water.
I’ll watch my willow wands bow down
as the vapors rise,
the water vapors from the deep water,
rich water, singing water.
I will feel the emanations
of the clever water, fierce water,
call to my willow,
my smooth willow, strong willow.
I will call to the water
with those willow wands
and we will sing the waters song,
me and my willow.

View original post