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I entered this poem into the County’s “Poetry Is” contest headed up by our poet laureate, Caroline Goodwin. The poem had to have the city name in the title and it had to be about your city in San Mateo county. Alas, it was not accepted but still I share it here.

arms that cradle water’s salt

legs that stretch from marsh to hills of oak

my belly, the bay

from hay colored loaf to mist-sprayed forest

a landscape of my fertile form

my roots swam deep, even before shell mounds

of ohlone heart and lips of costanoan

my seed springs diverse beauty, a secret kind

i call new strangers home

on tracks that still carry, familiar train whistle blowing

and through the wind of time, the accent of voices change

then converge into one language of praise

my body they relish, vistas they divine, my gentle sun breath turns their faces upward

like meyer lemon fruits they grow, in my green and luscious

to these home-comers, i am garden

and each afternoon is washed fresh by coyote wind

from the elegance of the bonsai, to the fragrant bay laurel

i hold you in this treasure

together we live this secret

this beauty

this

is san mateo

 san mateo

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Poetry Reading in Pacific Grove

Ode to Maestro Klein, Peninsula Symphony Orchestra

Performance for San Mateo County Supervisors

Poetry Reading by Maurine

Past Posts

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Blogs I Follow

Gary Direnfeld, MSW, RSW

Can you relate...

Bill's Blog

I love a statement I found attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi: “I wish to be known all over Europe for my humility.” Throughout my time as a writer and musician, I’ve tried to harbor a similar inclination, a sort of quiet pride in what I’ve done, but I am also well aware that, as far back as 1959, author Norman Mailer espoused, when it came to calling attention to one’s own work, what is a more efficacious attitude. He published Advertisements for Myself—and set the tone for a future we are all a part of now. So here’s Bill’s Blog.

Red Wolf Journal

A literary compass for finding your voice..."You turn toward me, your lips move, wanting to speak."--Stephen Dobyns, "Wolves In The Street"

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My recovery from Heroin Addiction & my journey to build a new life

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a reminder that sensuality is a portal to the Divine

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Dimitris Melicertes

I don't write, I touch without touching.

O-My Fragile Hart-O!

Life with a heart so fragile in His hands.

smcpoetlaureate

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Marie H Curran

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off the margins

off the margins…into the wild terrain of women’s writing

Moon Mothers of Half Moon Bay

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Speaking the words of my heart.

Beyond Words

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Eunoia Review

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A magazine for those who love all things paranormal

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Kourtney Heintz's Journal

Believing In The Unbelievables: From Aspiring Writer to Published Author

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Dean J. Baker - Poetry, and prose poems

BOOK PRICES! most at $9.99, up to $13.99 - https://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM

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WHAT REMAINS UNSAID now on Amazon.

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Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

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brianbakerwrites

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create dynamic stories; raise funds for valuable causes

Carmen the Chicken Killer by Sarah Curtiss

This is the story of my 2-month stay in Costa Rica a few years ago. It wasn’t my first trip. I had visited the year before with my partner, William Solis, who is from Costa Rica. But this particular year I wanted to learn Spanish. My initial plan was to take an immersion course in Mexico. However, William said that if I was going to immerse myself in a Spanish family it might as well be his. They don’t speak any English so I would be forced to speak Spanish and I could get to know them better. I told him that when I returned I would know more about him and his family than he did and so it has proven to be true. William joined me for the last 10 days. This is my journal plus emails I wrote to family and friends and a few comments from my current perspective…six years later. I drew a picture every day using pencil, pen, colored pencil, water colors, and acrylics. I wrote in my journal almost every day. I took photographs.

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