zz 113 Fate is the backwash

Fate is the backwash or the headtide slop,
the rip of someone else’s harsh restriction.
Fate can no more bend than the will stop.
Fate unwelcome and unwilled is fiction.

Impossible as that the world is wrong,
or that creation circles in a doubt.
Our lovers, if they seem to be so strong
as to defy the elements without,

rather combine their wills to make new fate.
For instance, we’re aground and yet a redwood
can push apart (not even excavate)
a canyon in us where we thought we stood,

until our heads are pelted like two fools,
that lovers are begetting more than souls.

poem by Edward Wright Haile
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Mystic Earth

Mystic earth restores the sacred traveller
Mountains where wolves play with sojourners
Seeds deep with wisdom grow their life

Humble villages where trees laugh
Festive mushrooms, leaves of healing
Shamans of the ancient forest

Evil men know nothing of timeless medicine
Fruit from Eden replenishes pilgrims
The meek know the garden is a door way

Tonight crickets sing, pines listen with joy
Cedars are like great owls of time
Rivers flow with sweet peace

Your never alone, they are wondrous friends
Elves are not fairy tales, wake up!
Clover grows to magnify the green spirit

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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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The Earth

Once in his life a man ought to concentrate his mind upon
the remembered earth, I believe. He ought to give himself up
to a particular landscape in his experience, to look at it from
as many angles as he can, to wonder about it, to dwell upon
it.
He ought to imagine that he touches it with his hands at
every season and listens to the sounds that are made upon
it. He ought to imagine the creatures there and all the faintest
motions of the wind. He ought to recollect the glare of noon and
all the colors of the dawn and dusk.
For we are held by more than the force of gravity to the earth.
It is the entity from which we are sprung, and that into which
we are dissolved in time. The blood of the whole human race
is invested in it. We are moored there, rooted as surely, as
deeply as are the ancient redwoods and bristlecones.

poem by Navarre Scott Momaday
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La Rana (The Frog)

I sit on a boulder in the Trinity River and make peace with my fear
of the bear. I will leave it here with the tadpoles around my ankles,
speckled stones, tall grass and the frog’s eyes just above the surface.

I will try to sit in stillness like that frog and watch water rush over fallen firs,
duck my head to avoid a swallowtail flying into me. One eye
is on a garter snake swimming S’s and the other on a lizard

beneath the coolness of a redwood shadow. There are greater
fears out there, a parent’s death, a terrorist’s threat. The river deafens
all sounds save the truth of rapids, the croak of a frog, the splash of a foot.

Maria Garcia Teutsch

poem by Maria Garcia Teutsch
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Back Alley Wanderings

It's them back alley wanderin's again-
And i got them sneak around blues
Your footsteps on gravel-crackle heavy
Cigarettes with DNA-foot prints from your shoes;
California boys and their raging Redwoods
Just workin' for: The Man-night and day
Coasting along-biding their criminal time in hours
Starlight shimmers upon your shadows at play;
Norhtern Cali leaves an indeliable mark
Just doin' what he says needs done
Always, most always, in pitch dark-
Packing, but not necessarily, a gun;
Would it totally blow ya away, man
If, i told ya-we know who you are and your aim?
Tell ya-back alley wanderin's ain't very smart...
Especially, now that we have the name of your game;
Got me a real bad case of M.S.-
And tell ya-the H.N. is spotlighted glaringly bright-
Wonder just what he'd tell ya to do?
When ya are finally arrested and questioned tomorrow night;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Started As A Seed

My love for you started only as a seed when I first look upon your beauty.
Now my love has grown as strong and tall as a mighty redwood tree. I loose my breath each time I look upon your beauty, And how your beauty touches my heart and soul. Your beauty warms my heart like the sun on a cold winters day. I know God truly loves beautiful things. For out of his heart and with his might hands he made you. Only God him self could have made such beauty as yours. If there is a greater beauty I have yet to see it with my eyes.Your beauty has reached deep into my heart and soul and I thank God for that. I can only hope and dream that my love for you has touched your heart as well.

7-24-09

poem by Timothy Honeycutt
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My Groupie

I read last Saturday in the
redwoods outside of Santa Cruz
and I was about 3/4's finished
when I heard a long high scream
and a quite attractive
young girl came running toward me
long gown & divine eyes of fire
and she leaped up on the stage
and screamed: "I WANT YOU!
I WANT YOU! TAKE  ME! TAKE
ME!"
I told her, "look, get the hell
away from me."
but she kept tearing at my
clothing and throwing herself
at me.
"where were you," I
asked her, "when I was living
on one candy bar a day and
sending short stories to the

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poem by Charles Bukowski
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Heart Of Gold

I wanna live, I wanna give
Ive been a miner for a heart of gold
Its these expressions I never give
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old
Keep me searching for a hheart of gold
And Im getting old
Ive been to hollywood, Ive been to redwood
I crossed the ocean for a heart of gold
Ive been admired by, its such a fine light
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old
Keep me searching for a hheart of gold
And Im getting old
Keep me searching for a heart of gold
Keep me searching and Im growing old...
* cover from neil young

song performed by Roxette
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True Friendship

Regardless of the relationship
Having a strong friendship
Should be the base of it
Lucy and Nenita you guys
Are an awesome fit
No matter the distance
You two I will never forget
Years have gone by
My how time flys
I have always thought
Of our goodbyes
As long hellos
Because our friendship
Runs deep in my soul
Your friendship is such a treasure
Real friendship is not easy to come by
Even if you try
One can learn much
From the Redwood trees
You see how tall

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poem by Tameeka Smith
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Put On Your Green Shoes

Gather round children and you will hear
The sound of a cricket crying in your ear
Thats mother nature, shes crying out loud
This old earth needs some loving now, so
Chorus:
Put on your green shoes
Put on your green shoes
Mother nature, shes calling to you
To put on your green shoes
Put on your green shoes and walk with me
Well go around back and plant a tree
Help it grow and you will see
The way the world was meant to be
Chorus
Wonder how the world would be
Without the shade of a redwood tree
Without all the fish, the birds and the bees
Springtime would be lonely, so
Chorus

song performed by Cyndi Lauper
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Contrast

The world has many seas, Mediterranean, Atlantic, but
here is the shore of the one ocean.
And here the heavy future hangs like a cloud; the
enormous scene; the enormous games preparing
Weigh on the water and strain the rock; the stage is
here, the play is conceived; the players are
not found.

I saw on the Sierras, up the Kaweah valley above the
Moro rock, the mountain redwoods
Like red towers on the slopes of snow; about their
bases grew a bushery of Christmas green,
Firs and pines to be monuments for pilgrimage
In Europe; I remembered the Swiss forests, the dark
robes of Pilatus, no trunk like these there;
But these are underwood; they are only a shrubbery
about the boles of the trees.

Our people are clever and masterful;
They have powers in the mass, they accomplish marvels.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Laurels Of Green

Trees filled with starlight
Wise rivers in the root of life
Cedar leaves banners of Solomon
White pine laugh with the elves
Poems of the ancient sequoias
Whispering forests by the sea
We are the fallen race of men
They have not been banished
They are free with no guilt or shame
They know no war like strife of man

They speak of the fire from above
We walk softly on velvet moss
Wild flowers, apple orchards, ferns
My darling have you heard?
Lets go out tonight in the moonlight
Blueberries grow free and wild
Eagles filled with grace and joy
Oak and basswood, grapevines
The grass awaits the savory rain

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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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An American Fanfare

I love this land sublime America
Beseeched by all the beauty that I saw
The place where mountains crown the land
Clear water from the streams ran loving through my hands
The Lakes and Parks a pleasure
The streaming waterfalls a treasure
Pacific Ocean waves touch beaches full splendor
With sand so white it is a wondrous sight
On the summit of Mt. Lassen
The view a special treat
I could not help but feel the beauty at my feet
The haunting ruins of Mesa Verde
Covered in a shrouded mist
To emerge a short time later
Seeing Cliff Palace sun kissed
I heard Old Faithful rumble
Before it spewed its plume
Of water vapor steam and mist
Made this display a truly wonderful artist
The mighty Trees in the Redwood Forest

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poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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Heart Of Gold

I want to live,
I want to give
Ive been a miner for a heart of gold.
Its these expressions I never give
That keep me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old.
Keeps me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old.
Ive been to hollywood
Ive been to redwood
I crossed the ocean for a heart of gold
Ive been in my mind, its such a fine line
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old.
Keeps me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old.
Keep me searching for a heart of gold
You keep me searching for a heart of gold
And Im getting old.
Ive been a miner for a heart of gold.

song performed by Neil Young
Added by Lucian Velea
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Forest Primeval

Forest Primeval

As I walk through
this forest realm.

Breathing in
the mellow mist of scents,
the molting leaf, the broken bark
of times past.

My skin breathes in
the cool kiss of morning air.

I exhale breathless,
in the presence,
of such divine beauty.

I reach out to touch
the divinity of life
of this forests sweet soul.

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poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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Sailing Home

In the redwood house sailing off
into the ocean,
I sleep with you-
our dreams mingling,
our breath coming & going
like gusts of wind
trifling with the breakers,
our arms touching
& our legs & our hair
reaching out like tendrils
to intertwine.

The first time
I slept in your arms,
I knew I had come home.
Your body was a ship
& I rocked in it,
utterly safe in the breakers,
utterly sure of this love.
I fit into your arms

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poem by Erica Jong
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Fawn's Foster-Mother

The old woman sits on a bench before the door and quarrels
With her meagre pale demoralized daughter.
Once when I passed I found her alone, laughing in the sun
And saying that when she was first married
She lived in the old farmhouse up Garapatas Canyon.
(It is empty now, the roof has fallen
But the log walls hang on the stone foundation; the redwoods
Have all been cut down, the oaks are standing;
The place is now more solitary than ever before.)
"When I was nursing my second baby
My husband found a day-old fawn hid in a fern-brake
And brought it; I put its mouth to the breast
Rather than let it starve, I had milk enough for three babies.
Hey how it sucked, the little nuzzler,
Digging its little hoofs like quills into my stomach.
I had more joy from that than from the others."
Her face is deformed with age, furrowed like a bad road
With market-wagons, mean cares and decay.
She is thrown up to the surface of things, a cell of dry skin
Soon to be shed from the earth's old eye-brows,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Arboriculture

You may say they won't grow, and say they'll decay-
Say it again till you're sick of the say,
Get up on your ear, blow your blaring bazoo
And hire a hall to proclaim it; and you
May stand on a stump with a lifted hand
As a pine may stand or a redwood stand,
And stick to your story and cheek it through.
But I point with pride to the far divide
Where the Snake from its groves is seen to glide
To Mariposa's arboreal suit,
And the shaggy shoulders of Shasta Butte,
And the feathered firs of Siskiyou;
And I swear as I sit on my marvelous hair
I roll my marvelous eyes and swear,
And sneer, and ask where would your forests be
To-day if it hadn't been for me!
Then I rise tip-toe, with a brow of brass,
Like a bully boy with an eye of glass;
I look at my gum sprouts, red and blue,
And I say it loud and I say it low:

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poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Song Of The Redwood-Tree

A CALIFORNIA song!
A prophecy and indirection--a thought impalpable, to breathe, as air;
A chorus of dryads, fading, departing--or hamadryads departing;
A murmuring, fateful, giant voice, out of the earth and sky,
Voice of a mighty dying tree in the Redwood forest dense.

Farewell, my brethren,
Farewell, O earth and sky--farewell, ye neighboring waters;
My time has ended, my term has come.

Along the northern coast,
Just back from the rock-bound shore, and the caves, 10
In the saline air from the sea, in the Mendocino country,
With the surge for bass and accompaniment low and hoarse,
With crackling blows of axes, sounding musically, driven by strong
arms,
Riven deep by the sharp tongues of the axes--there in the Redwood
forest dense,
I heard the mighty tree its death-chant chanting.

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poem by Walt Whitman
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Roan Stallion

The dog barked; then the woman stood in the doorway, and hearing
iron strike stone down the steep road
Covered her head with a black shawl and entered the light rain;
she stood at the turn of the road.
A nobly formed woman; erect and strong as a new tower; the
features stolid and dark
But sculptured into a strong grace; straight nose with a high bridge,
firm and wide eyes, full chin,
Red lips; she was only a fourth part Indian; a Scottish sailor had
planted her in young native earth,
Spanish and Indian, twenty-one years before. He had named her
California when she was born;
That was her name; and had gone north.
She heard the hooves and
wheels come nearer, up the steep road.
The buckskin mare, leaning against the breastpiece, plodded into
sight round the wet bank.
The pale face of the driver followed; the burnt-out eyes; they had
fortune in them. He sat twisted
On the seat of the old buggy, leading a second horse by a long

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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