BajaNomad

What's your best Baja-related poem?

windgrrl - 7-22-2008 at 09:00 PM

Just to get a little constructive thought going for a change!

El viento en la Isla

El viento es un caballo:
oyelo como corre
por el mar, por el cielo.

Pablo Neruda

BornFisher - 7-22-2008 at 09:19 PM

Don`t know, except for a few songs about Mexico (Merle, Willy, Jimmy).
But my favorite , repeated many times here is
"When the dust of Baja falls on your shoulders,
you can never brush it off"

elizabeth - 7-22-2008 at 09:20 PM

Quote:
Originally posted by windgrrl
Just to get a little constructive thought going for a change!

El viento en la Isla

El viento es un caballo:
oyelo como corre
por el mar, por el cielo.

Pablo Neruda


I really like Neruda's poetry...but, your heading is Baja poems...what's the history...was Neruda in Baja or is it just evocative of Baja?

[Edited on 7-23-2008 by elizabeth]

gibson - 7-22-2008 at 09:23 PM

windsurfers are like dinosaurs
they jibe and they skim
such relics, such fossils
forgive them father for they know not what they do

oh crap :lol:

fulano - 7-22-2008 at 09:58 PM

Oye como va, mi ritmo?
Bueno pa' gosar, mulata.

Written by an American who was a decorated WWII veteran, Tito Puente, but made famous by, Carlos Santana, who grew up in Tijuana.

bajajudy - 7-22-2008 at 10:22 PM

I went to san lucas for the helluvit
Wound up up side down in a world of chit
I knew I had good bait
I thought they would wait
Who put the tequila in my crème de mente

gnukid - 7-22-2008 at 10:48 PM

I met a girl from la paz
she was tall, buena, nice as-
We went to la fuente
for ice cream and cafe'
We danced caliente
then came a nino named jose'

[Edited on 7-23-2008 by gnukid]

Iflyfish - 7-22-2008 at 10:50 PM

"Where you find yourself is where you are"

Paraphrase of subtitle to "People's Guide to Mexico"

Iflyfishwhennotponderingthisveryusefuladaptivestrategyinmexico

Skipjack Joe - 7-22-2008 at 11:11 PM

Violets are blue
and roses are red
I've read your posts.
Now it's time for bed.

Osprey - 7-23-2008 at 08:41 AM

Sea Talk



Sea talk in this little pueblo by the shore is rough and disrespectful
I supposed the fishermen would venerate the old girl who keeps the fish
She has shown herself around and now I begin to understand
Rant-mad b-tch has a mood for every moment
In delirium she sometimes makes new colors
Filling up the spectrum's empty notches faster than they can be named
I've seen some of them; they are gone before I can be amazed
Now and then burlesque, she spews up great waves
Complete to the white foamsnow on the peaks
Mocking the tallest mountains that remain in her way
Mountains close to shore she has crushed into graygold strands
She mimics the African dunes with giant swells
Her salty fingers poke up creeks and rivers, holding back the blue
Til a bloodbrown bruise appears at the mouth
You can feel her runaway power; timid arroyos become fjords
Romantic sunset mirrors are among her cheapest tricks
The flat bluegreygreen does not mean she is at peace, asleep
She is unconscious, exhausted from bashing shores
Remember
She holds the bonemud of civilizations who did not listen to the fishermen
Follow these smart cowards
Pay a few more pesos
Build your little house on a hill
Keep your love for the sea a secret
Your dreams dry and lofty and
Perhaps
She will never come to share your bed

beachbum1A - 7-23-2008 at 09:08 AM

After reading "Bernie Talkin' Baja" and all his poems that it contains, I'd be really hard pressed to pick even one of those! Guess my favotite changes from day to day but it always makes the corners of my mouth turn up just a little, and my eyes roll upward as my mind starts to wonder.

Iflyfish - 7-23-2008 at 09:08 AM

"She holds the bonemud of civilizations who did not listen to the fishermen"

Whoa!!!

Iflyfishwhennotinawe

Pompano - 7-23-2008 at 09:16 AM

From my game room wall:

MORNING POEM

"Woke early one morning,
the earth lay cool and still,
when suddenly a tiny bird,
perched on my window sill,
it sang a song so lovely,
so carefree and so gay,
that slowly all my troubles,
began to slip away,
it sang of 'Baja' places,
of laughter and of fun,
it seemed his very song,
brought out the morning sun,
I pulled back the covers,
and crept slowly out of bed,
and gently shut the window,
and crushed his freaking head.
I'm not a morning person."

(unknown, but love the humor.)

--And my favorite of all, which is more to the point of coming to Baja way back when...

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Thoreau


The cabin below is Henry Walden's cabin drawn by Sophia Thoreau.


[Edited on 7-23-2008 by Pompano]

Henry Walden cabin by sopia thoreau.gif - 11kB

vgabndo - 7-23-2008 at 09:19 AM

This is a land where Osprey perch
on the desert bluff
forty feet above our anchor chain
snaking black into crystal depths.

A land where sand dune becomes mountain
and the reflections on the water
are cactus dreams basking in a sun
hot as a baker's oven.

Where nomad whales and their dolphin escorts,
mate and birth in fantasies
filled with seashell echoes and azure sunlight shafts,
whose only nightmares are of the long-departed land.

This land where a thousand roosters crow
under a city's bougainvillea;
like priests they chant to dispel
dark night's damp breath,
to push back death's promise,
once more to summon up the sun.

In this land earth's pallette
is bright color swirled in flower and bird
reflected in the deep dreams of desert dwellers
in the deep sleep of vagabonds of the sea
whose memories are Chocolata clams,
are the cactus, avocadoes,
the Osprey, are the sea turtle,
are the island, the sand dune,
the mountain.
Are the scorpion, the lizard, the spider,
are the ocean , the dolphin, the whale,

whose memories are ancient inhabitants
drawing pictures on stone wall
to tell their children, to explain
these distant dreams that dance our sleep,
layer upon layer,
this land,
of dreams.


Murdoch Hughes

bajagrouper - 7-23-2008 at 11:23 AM

BAJA
PART ONE

MY FIRST TRIP TO BAJA WAS IN NINETEEN FORTY EIGHT
MY PARENTS DROVE TO ENSENADA,I HEARD IT WAS GREAT

MY SECOND TRIP WAS IN NINETEEN SIXTY TWO
A WILD EYED TEEN WITH SO MUCH TO DO

I DROVE ALL THE WAY TO LORETO IN SEVENTY ONE
A MUDDY RIDE HOME WAS NOT MUCH FUN

SAN FELIPE TO CHAPALA TOOK ALL DAY
TURTLE STEAKS WITH PAPA AT GONZAGA BAY

CAMPING AT NOPOLO BACK IN SEVENTY TWO
A GIANT AQUIRIUM JUST WAITING FOR YOU

DORADO AND YELLOWS COULD BE CAUGHT BY THE SCORE
SO MANY IN THE PANGA THERE WAS NOT ROOM FOR ONE MORE

GOT TO LA PAZ IN SEVENTY FIVE
TECOLOTE BEACH MADE ME FEEL ALIVE

FISHED BY THE CANNERY IN CABO THAT MAY
HARDLY SAW ANOTHER PERSON ALL DAY

TODOS SANTOS WAS A TINY VILLAGE IN EIGHTY THREE
WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED WHAT IT WOULD TURN OUT TO BE

CABO PLUMO,ANOTHER PLACE I ADDORED
SNORLELING AND DIVING,YOU NEVER GOT BORED

GERRERO NEGRO A SALT COMPANY TOWN
WHO KNEW WHALES WOULD BRING TOURISTS AROUND

WAS THERE A BETTER CAMPING SPOT THAN COYOTE BAY
SWIMMING AND EATING LOBSTER THREE TIMES A DAY

SO I’VE VISITED BAJA FIFTY TIMES OR MORE
NEVER KNOWING WHAT ADVENTURE WAS IN STORE…..

Richardo Echeverria

Wrote a bunch but this is my favorite

Baja Bernie - 7-24-2008 at 03:03 PM

JR

As the earth dwindles
Thieves take hold
I wander around collecting

More valuable than gold
Just bits and pieces
Gathered here and there

Throughout the years
A shell, a stone
Pictures by the ton

Stories and memories
Friends
Around a campfire

Collecting stories
A bit of truth, an exaggeration
Sorrow and fun

Sounds and thoughts
Shoulders touch
Laughter and caring

Means so much
Boils down to good times
Memories and such

Sitting, listening
Looking on faces
Quiet thoughts


Earth dwindles
Thieves take hold
Wandering, confused

Fading, diminished
Magic dwindling
Mi Baja

Bernie Swaim
December 15, 2005

Von - 7-24-2008 at 03:42 PM

Baja por ahi

Baja por alla

Por donde es tu Baja?

Mi Baja es en BOLA>:P<

Skeet/Loreto - 7-24-2008 at 04:12 PM

LORETO

The bumpy streets, the quiet pace,
The calm content on every face.

The roosters crowing day and night,
Not one is heeding dark or light.

Profuse array of stars hang low,
Create an awe-inspiring show.

The sun is brighter, air more clear,
And when I hold my breath I hear,

The sound of living all around,
A laughing child, a barking hound.

The spark'ling sea forgets to roar
As it caresses rock and shore.

Silv'ry fish go skittering by,
Frigates and gulls command the sky.

Pelicans dive and sardines run,
To them it's life, to us it's fun.

Fishermen leave at early light,
Returning home before it's night.

Happy faces weathered and tan,
Knowing here, a man is a man.

Sands of desert and beach combine,
With lava rock from some past time.

Cactus and palms grow side by side,
And climbing blossoms try to hide

Among their branches, leaves and thorn
Splashing brightness, color of corn.

Palo Blanco, graceful Pitaya
Cirio, Cardon, Tree of Fire.

God let imagination soar
When He designed this desert floor.

And, hopefully, someday you'll find
With sham and pretense left behind,

What seems like desert up ahead
Is lush oasis instead.

Your very special secret place
Where you, yourself come face to face.

And when you do, you'll almost see
Some part of what it means to me.....Loreto.

This is More Prose Than Poetry

Gypsy Jan - 7-24-2008 at 04:36 PM

John Steinbeck on Ed Ricketts:

"Some he taught how to think, others how to see or hear... Children on the beach he taught how to look for and find beautiful animals in worlds they had not suspected were there at all."

John Steinbeck, foreword to The Log from the Sea of Cortez (1951)

Hook - 7-24-2008 at 04:43 PM

Songs are, after all, poems put to music. Strip out the music and you have a poem.

This one is not Baja specific but I bet many of us of an age can relate to it.

Beer in Mexico-Kenny Chesney

Starin' out into the wild blue yonder
So many thoughts to sit and ponder
'Bout life and love and lack of
And this emptiness in my heart

Too old to be wild and free still
Too young to be over the hill
Should I try to grow up
But who knows where to start

So I just ...
Sit right here and have another beer in Mexico
Do my best to waste another day
Sit right here and have another beer in Mexico
Let the warm air melt these blues away

Sun comes up and sun sinks down
And I seen 'em both in this tourist town
Up for days in a rage
Just tryin' to search my soul

From the answers and the reasons why
I'm at these crossroads in my life
And I really don't know
Which way to go

So I just ...
Sit right here and have another beer in Mexico
Do my best to waste another day
Sit right here and have another beer in Mexico
Let the warm air melt these blues away

Maybe I'll settle down, get married
Or stay single and stay free
Which road I travel
Is still a mystery to me

So I'll just ...
Sit right here, have another beer in Mexico
Do my best to waste another day
Sit right here and have another beer in Mexico
Let the warm air melt these blues away

Down in Mexico ...

comitan - 7-24-2008 at 04:46 PM

TO THE BIG TRUCKS
BY Carol Stagg

Rrrrrrrrrr ta ta tat tat tat
Oh I remember
the big truck serenade
as they went to lands end
and back
in Mexico on both sides
some ALL the way to Panama

Deep red or dark green
those flatbeds did gleam
even the removable slats
four big lights atop the cab a
spotlight to see over the side
red lights all around
more on Christmas nights

In front an iron grill that
slopped to the right for
sweeping cows off the road
not to damage the trucks
the canvas covered load
or the naked chrome ladies
on mud flaps

Rrrrrrrrrr The tenor trumpet
cries it’s over rev
Ta ta tat tat tat a brass drum
bangs as the truck cuts back
The heartbeat of Mexico
sings through the towns

Scalloped gold fringe
flashes in the windshields
some on side windows too
centered on the dash
like a trophy
a handy toilet paper roll

Trucks were driven
by big men
with big mustaches
and big leather hats
heroes of a
still forming road
Mariachis of the highway
Rrrrrrrrrr ta ta tat tat tat

BAJA IS FOR THE 'BOLD'

Pompano - 7-24-2008 at 04:55 PM

EL DORADO by Edgar Allen Poe.

Clearly this poem of great adventure, daring, and sheer energy depicts those stalwart Nomads who venture into ...BAJA!

Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,

Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old
This knight so bold
And o'er his heart a shadow

Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow

"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be
This land of Eldorado?"

"Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,

"RIDE, BOLDLY RIDE!",
The shade replied
"If you seek for Eldorado!"



[Edited on 7-29-2008 by Pompano]

danaeb - 7-24-2008 at 07:32 PM

Hope this isn't a copyright violation. Santiago's latest:


Nomad Haiku:

Skeet had a bi-pass
Decided to sell his gear
I almost got it

windgrrl - 7-26-2008 at 09:57 AM

What a cool bunch of people you all are.

Bob H - 7-26-2008 at 01:02 PM

Oh, can't resist posting this again.... Bob H

It all started with the philosopher Juan-Paul Salsa, who wrote, "To Bean, or Nacho to Bean, that is the Queso."

He was followed by his great disciple, Descarta Blanca, who said, "I Pinto, therefore, Cayenne."

Some trace it to ancient Grease, where the great thinker Aristortilla wrote the book Plata's RePulpo.

Meanwhile, over in ancient India, they believed in Chili con Karma - that what Casa round, Carne's around.

And back in the Holy Land, The prophet Masa brought The Ten Comidas:

"Thou Salt not Tequila."
"Honor thy Tamale and thy Papaya."
"Blessed are the Migas, for they shall Ranchero the Burps."
"Give a man an Enchilada, he'll Taco Mole."

"Arroz is Arroz by Flameada name."
"In the Picante, Guisada Cerveza'd the Hongas and the Verde.
And he saw that it was Food."

I'd like to close by reciting The Lard's Prayer:

"Our Fajita, who art in Huevos, Pollo'd be Muy Bueno.
Thy Corona come, thy Chili be Con, on Cuervo it is El Jefe.
Forgive us our Tres Amigos, as we forgive those who Seis Salsas against us.
Lettuce not into Tomatillo, but Nuevo us from Fritos.
For thine is the Gringo, the Agua and the Chorizo.
In the name of the Flauta, and of the Flan, and of the Frijole ghost.

A-Menudo."

An ode

Sharksbaja - 7-26-2008 at 02:52 PM

I remember a day in '69'
plying the route that I called mine

While testing my skills in truck repair
I filled a tire with hand pumped air

If not for the saviors of this precious land
my vehicle would have been lost in the sand

The memories of that trip can only compete
with the next one I plan from this seat

So many places for a Nomad to see
Baja is the place for me.


--------------

No Poe here!:lol:

Cypress - 7-26-2008 at 03:09 PM

Nomad poems are right from the heart.:spingrin:Thanks.

Bob H - 7-28-2008 at 08:04 PM

This is a very good thread! Thanks for sharing all this stuff.
Bob H

Bill Stroppe (off road racing pioneer)...

David K - 7-28-2008 at 08:57 PM

...is who got Parnelli Jones to try off road racing:

1) "BILL'S THE BUM

WHO BUILT THE BRONCO

THAT BEAT THE BAJA"


2) "PARNELLI'S THE PERSON

WHO PENETRATED THE PENINSULA

IN PURSUIT OF THE PRIZE"

:lol::lol::lol:

(I made those up in high school, and didn't forget them!)




(Parnelli Jones in the Dick Russell designed Big Oly Bronco, ENSENADA, NOV. 1973)