http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGG4kY1rwQE
The Parrots of Telegraph Hill
Come out when they want
And flaunt their beaks and
Feathers of green and red
They squawk until they want to stop
Then perch atop a chosen tree
From there to fly eventually
One by one they flutter and flap
Squawking as they do
Then swoop in front of you
As if they knew
You were watching them
Splitting into groups
Then reforming
They move from neighborhood to neighborhood
From North Beach
To the Sunset
Out to Noe Valley then
Over Buena Vista Park
They fly freely
Seemingly oblivious to their
Surroundings
Until they perch again
Somewhere hidden
Away for the night
Only to rise again
In the morning and
Assert themselves as residents
In the city of dreams
Ive been writing more creative work since weve started reading all the beat attitude. Its not a poem, and its not prose but some where in the middle. Oh and its about San Francisco.
ReplyDeleteSitting at the top of the hill, starring at the green, green grass. Playing with dandelions and breaking twigs between my fingers. Feeling the dirt in between my toes.
Dolores park has always been lovely. The palm trees provide just enough protection from the heat for 1 maybe 2 people. Maybe 3 if you squeeze. Used to read sitting under the tress, melting my problems into the dirt. Crying under the palm trees as the circled me, made me feel safe again, me again. Watching the green roll down up and above the hills, watched as it scrapped the bottom and back up into the sun, into the city sky line.
The park is huge, you can lose people for hours at a time and discover someone you never though you could imagine. Find your self and lose your self all in the same hour, same place, same city.
Spending too many hours getting lost in the grass, feeling my city surround me with love.
Getting older, playing on the swings and sliding down slides. Kicking children off the boat so we can sit and talk and gossip and laugh and sneer.
Getting younger, found my footing in the shade, smoking dope and drinking beer with the homies, watching the day turn into night and back again.
Learned all about my city. Watched the twinkling lights and sobering drunks and saw the beauty with the reality. Saw why people came here, get lost here, fall in love here, get trapped there. And know that I always want to come back here.