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Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.-Edgar Allan Poe

Poetry is when emotion has found its thought and thought has found words--Robert Frost

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance--Carl Sandburg

I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry--John Cage

You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you--Joseph Joubert

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. ~Dylan Thomas

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Now, I Can Tell You Where I Have Been: San Francisco


Eight days ago, I wrote that I would tell you why I was not going to be writing anything for at least a week. The reason is that I have been away on vacation for seven days and got back only yesterday afternoon at around 4 o'clock. The trip that Kellie, Sarah, and I took was Sarah's choice for her graduation from high school, possibly the last trip that the three of us will get to take together for a while as she goes off to Arkansas State University in a little over a month to begin her college career as a Red Wolf. I cannot explain her choice, but she wanted to go to San Francisco. I have never been been to San Francisco until now. Here are a few pictures. Enjoy!

Above is a picture that I took of the Golden Gate bridge on our night tour of Alcatraz.


I have seen and read about Alcatraz for many, many years, and I have to say this. What you might read or what you might see in a movie cannot possibly provide the sensation that being there can. The island is literally a big rock with buildings built on it, some older parts of buildings from the 1700's, and birds are every where. Alcatraz means "isle of the birds." I took a picture of a congregation of pelicans, gulls, and others, but it did not turn out so well, so I will not post it, but, trust me, probably millions of birds were on that island.

Anyway, We were there on July 7, and it was cold and windy. Though the shore can be seen on three sides, those shores are far, far away across a windswept, choppy bay. Still, that did not stop a group of 89 Native Americans from taking over Alcatraz on November 20, 1969. They held the island prison until June 11, 1971 when their protest ended. During the Native American occupation, many of the older wooden buildings on the island were destroyed by fire. The group claimed that someone seeking to discredit them set the fire. No one knows for sure how or who set the fire. Anyhow, I don't recall anyone saying that the 19 month protest gained the group anything but media attention, but it did help unite Native Americans in AIM. All of the graffiti written by the protesting group is left including that in the picture above on a "For Sale" sign as you get off the boat on the dock. The "real" and original sign actually said United States Penitentiary with the red writing around it.


If you are a Clint Eastwood and Dirty Harry Callahan fan, you will know this shot. This is the guard tower where Dirty Harry blew up the kidnapper and murderer Bobby Maxwell with a bazooka. Maxwell had dragged the San Francisco mayor to the top of the tower, and he had just killed Callahan's first female partner whose name I don't remember, but she was played by Tyne Daly. In the movie, the bazooka blast destroyed the top of the tower, killing Maxwell but, as you can see, the tower is still intact. I did not know it at the time, but I was close to where Dirty Harry crouched behind the wall when I took this picture.


Okay, the above photo is one last look at Alcatraz. I have a lot more photos, but I don't want to overdo it. This one is taken from the Golden Gate bridge vista.

This quirky shot was taken in the Haight Ashbury district. Obviously, it is the famous or infamous Piedmont Boutique which provides costume clothing for several famous drag queens. Yep, that is what they are known for. Our one pass through Haight Ashbury was on a Big Bus tour. I highly recommend that anyone going to San Francisco do the Big Bust tour on the first day. That way, you can see a bit of everything and see what how you might want to spend your time in the city.

Anyway, as we were on the open deck on top of the bus, I struggled to get many good pictures in Haight Ashbury. There were murals of Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jerry Garcia that I would have liked to have gotten, but they were half blocked to me by trees.


Since I do not care to be a travel guide, I will finish this proof of our San Francisco trip with this picture of the Bay Ferry Clock Tower built in 1892. The story goes that this clock only ever stopped once at 5:12 on April 18, 1906 when the earthquake hit that caused fires that burned for three days and destroyed much of San Francisco. They left the clock stopped for a year before they restarted it. Whether it was actually 3:30 when we were there, I did not check.

Anyhow, I am back from vacation, I do not have classes in the Summer II session at ASUMH, so it is time for me to do some new writing. Anybody out there ready?

I have no idea what I will do, but I will be back at it tomorrow.

Oh, by the way, Kellie has more pictures of our trip on her Facebook. I have a lot more pictures. I just don't want to make my blog about pictures. You already know this if you have been reading my blog.



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I find that I cannot exist without Poetry--without eternal poetry--half the day will not do--the whole of it--I began with a little, but habit has made me a Leviathan.-John Keats

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value.-T. S. Eliot

A man may praise and praise, but no one recollects but that which pleases.-George Gordon, Lord Byron

The great beauty of poetry is that it makes everything in every place interesting.-John Keats

Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery.-S. T. Coleridge

The purpose of rhythm, it has always seemed to me, is to prolong the moment of contemplation, the moment when we are both asleep and awake, which is the one moment of creation.-W. B. Yeats

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