Summer Site Write 2011 All ages Free
Summer Site Write 2011 will take place with events for the public
to join in: June 6-20 get entry forms at Starbucks or Alameda Art Association gallery at Alameda Towne Centre and write as
many poems as you want about the Centre for display. Put poems with entry forms attached in the "Poem Home" boxes in these
two locations. Poems will be collected and displayed at stores throughout the Centre and poets will be chosen to read their
poems at the Summer Beats Concert series, Alameda Towne Centre Center Stage, held every Saturday starting July 9 until August
13 with a performance of Dance to Poetry on August 14 from 1:30 pm – 3pm. The public can vote on their favorite poem,
from the poems posted in store windows, on Alameda Towne Centre’s Facebook . Last year over 200 poems were posted in
windows at the Alameda Towne Centre for the public to read and more than 58 poets were featured in readings and events for
the Summer Site Write at Alameda Towne Centre --- Let's do great things this year too, for poets, poetry, the community. FOR FUN, RELAXATION, RECREATION, STIMULATION, SHARING, UPLIFITING-ENLIGHTENMENT, SHOW
YOUR SKILL WITH WORDS AND HEILP OTHERS SEE THIS SPECIAL PART OF THEIR CITY IN A NEW AND POETIC WAY --- LOTS OF REASONS FOR
WRITING!!!! For more information, contact Mary Rudge at (510) 523-5980.
Alameda Multicultural Community Center
501 Lincoln Avenue, Building A, Room 6
Alameda, CA 94501
510-521-9405 or firstname.lastname@example.org
Alameda Multicultural Community Center:
A Koshland Partnership
JIM MORRISON LOOK-ALIKE EVENT IN ALAMEDA HAS A WINNER ---- MORRISON
STILL CITY'S MOST CONTROVERSIAL POET ---
As the usual crowd milled around the Farmers Market stalls at Haight and Webster
in Alameda, among perfect tomatoes, glowing orange tangerines and other colorful fruits and vegetables, while the musician
of the day played on his two melodic steel drums, Joe Altadonna, in the midst of curious spectators, wearing a
tie-dye T Shirt with larger-than-life Jim Morrison's face on it waited, possibly to be chosen a winner in Alameda's first ever Jim Morrison Look-Alike Contest.
The fun high-light of the afternoon where people were also writing haiku,
in a separate contest, was to hear poems by and about Jim Morrison, hear some Jim Morrison songs, exchange reminiscences
about Jim Morrison, see if former class mates and teachers who actually knew him when he lived on Alameda Ave in Alameda and attended Alameda High when he was 14 years old would show up
to give some input too.
Jim Morrison, born Dec. 8, 1943, would be 66 years old and there were
numerous people in that age bracket at the Farmers Market, among those with babies in strollers as well as citizens of
seemingly all senior ages, but no one said they actually had known Alameda's most controversial, and according
to some, most outrageous, poet and musician.
Christina Felker, younger than Morrison, remembered Alameda Morrison stories, and
has several times attended Wild Child concerts (the Jim Morrison Tribute Band). She said "I remember cruising down
Shoreline Drive listening to Moonlight Drive in the days we used to have bonfires on the beach... ." Christina, her brothers
and other Alamedans including 5 of the 7 Rudge children were at that time in the Weldonian band, and Jordan Rudge
began an "original material garage band " which became popular along with several other Alameda "garage bands,"
most inspired more by
The Beatles than by The Doors.
When Mohammad Kohgadai appeared at the market some girls murmured that he should
win the prize because "he moves like a poet" and they liked his hair. He actually is a poet, and translator of Afghanistan
and other poetry into English, but couldn't stay for the judging. He was quickly given a prize, a book of poems,
to thank him for coming.
Persian artist and poet, Hosse Nowrouzian, now of Alameda, told the group that
he first saw Jim Morrison in concert in Copenhagnen, Denmark, "I was so blown out of my mind, I felt I was different
when I came back out on the street."
Alameda West End's noted performer of Classical Jazz and her own original songs,Vocal
Teacher Ann Channin, was ready to sing "Light My Fire" but a steel drum accompaniment didn't work for her, so
she promised to sing in 2011 if the contest was held again next year.
Meanwhile, who would be this year's winner.-- the judges were worried --- Joe
was the most obvious Morrison devotee and told the group that, in his 20's, he heard "Light My Fire" and became
an instant and lasting fan. Others put in
their opinions of the song, that it had meanings on so many different levels,
it was for most about aspiration and about passion, passion people could inspire in each other. Those linking it to drugs
were very limited, including officials who wouldn't let the song be played at school dances, was the consensus of
Morrison fans and trivia collectors at the Alameda event.
Joe Altadonna said he was a young kid in the U.S. Navy, in Subic Bay at
the time he first hear "Light My Fire and became a spontaneous Morrison fan, but others in the Military got down on him about
Morrison, he remembers. Servicemen considered Morrison's songs against killing, against violence, and against
war unpatriotic--- "even Morrison's Navy dad went bye, bye from him/" Joe said wryly.
Joe never got to see Morrison in person, but he began collecting Morrison memorabilia
and never stopped; his Castro Valley trailer home is filled with Morrison clippings and photos covering the hallway and into
the living room.
He bought numerous T-Shirts with Morrison and The Doors on them, the Jim
Morrison scrapbook from Best Buy with a copy of Morrison's death certificate among many other collectors items. He also
attends Wild Child concerts, in San Francisco and lately at a theater where they have been playing near San Carlos. "They
sound just like The Doors, and the lead singer looks like Jim Morrison," he said.
Well, who knows what Morrison would look like today at age 66, had he lived? In
Alameda's contest. could Joe be the choice?
As interviewers and interested persons at the Market were mulling the decision,
Joe rolled up his sleeve and showed the tattoo of Jim Morrison on his upper
right arm, gorgeous in brilliant artistry. At that moment, he became the instant winner --- no one else had a visible
body part that looked more like Jim Morrison. Joe was immediately awarded a bag of groceries by Steve Cochran the Manager
of Saturday's Farmers Market while Kyesha Thompson and other Market personnel looked on. Joe also received an envelope
of $25.00 in BART tickets, gift of Richard Angilly, a poet with Artists Embassy International, and books of poems from Alameda
Poet Laureate, Mary Rudge. He was also introduced around the corner to the LuckyJuJu Pinball machines and the Pacific Pinball
Museum and told that any time he wanted to claim it he could have one afternoon of Pinball play.
July 3, 1971 was Jim Morrison's death day, but, in Morrison's once home town, where
he began writing poetry walking on the beach and where he actually may have written The Horse Latitudes and other
of his famous works, in the little island city of Alameda, Saturday, July 31, 2010, Jim Morrison lived again
in memory and was celebrated at the Jim Morrison Look-Alike event, one of many in 3 months in a project begun by Alameda
Poet Laureate Mary Rudge with the Alameda Island poets and Artists Embassy International, and three business districts of
Alameda, called the Summer Site Write.
The Summer Site Write invites people of all ages to write poems about whatever
inspires as they stroll the streets, into the stores and cafes, with their poems to be posted in many store windows
making the city an Open Air literary celebration so people could enjoy reading poetic insights about their neighborhood
shopping centers and marking the city, in a world wide public notice, as a place of poets and the Literary Arts. For
the summer months, poetry readings have been held in bookstores, at cafes, and on an outdoor stage, numerous events creating
this insightful rite for summer with words about everyday events and lifestyle in the city. Over 54 poets wrote
98 poems posted in 24 stores at Alameda Towne Centre, 17 poets wrote 56 poems about the 15 block Webster Street business area,
and poems about Park Street are uncounted at the time this article is being written. An exhibit of the poems
and photographs were also exhibited at the Alameda Multicultural Community Center.
Some of the poems maybe heard again September 11th at 10 Am when Poets take the Central
Ave at Webster Street stage at the Webster Street Jam, an annual community street faire. Several of Alameda's Elvis Look-Alikes
may be on the scene, strolling around. Will Joe, or any other Jim Morrison Look-Alike show up to give autographs and
enjoy being seen? The public is invited to come and see.
|Jim Morrison Look Alike Winning Entry
|Joe Altadonna Sporting Prize Winning Tattoo Artwork
ALAMEDA Towne Centre SITE WRITE POETRY:
WINDOW AT ZEYTINI
There is a squirrel in the roses sitting there looking at me, a squirrel in the roses standing up, statue still, what does
He sees shoppers so hungry and laden with prizes – required purchases and impulse buys sundry. These shoppers are
rushing or strolling by in all sizes.
He sees people gathering treasures and fancy food The same as he gathers nuts and acorns for storage. He hears chattering
– – loving, innocuous, sometimes rude. He listens to kids and watches others of more age.
The squirrel stands and seems to listen intently as I stand looking at him. Contemplating this squirrel statue sends me
behind convention's scrim to see what he sees on a whim.
Copyright by Judy Hardin Cheung
MANIC ON A HAMBURGER Or contemplating the significance on my menu choice at Applebee's when I usually eat
Fast life Fast change Fast food Instant gratification quick change artists grab the quick prize then run to the hierarchy
to question Success Cooperation to judge who receives Benefits from pigeon holes with monetary fences to keep the fat eaters
from the lean needers now that freedom seems to mean obedience to sameness For today's lunch I will go a little bit slower
and chew my life
My Mother Believes in Books
Books you can hold in your hands,
Books you can place on your shelf,
Books you can own.
She believes in reading
To yourself, your children, your family,
And that reading aloud makes the best readers.
We had all the Oz books.
The Narnia books. Dr. Seuss books.
My brothers and I could hardly wait
For the heffalump chapter of Winnie-the-Pooh.
We could hardly contain our glee
To see where Harold's purple crayon
Would take him.
We watched with wonder to see where
The runaway bunny would run next.
As I grew up I had Mary Poppins
Meg and Charles Wallace.
My shelves still hold The Secret Garden
On the Banks of Plum Creek
My Golden Press Fairy Tale Book.
In bed at night I read my son
Charlotte's Web, Frog and Toad
The Phantom Tollbooth
To Kill a Mockingbird.
My mother believes in books.
I believe in books, too.
Copyright by Cathy Dana, 2010
Visit my website: http://cathyedana.wordpress.com
"At the Center of Alameda Towne Centre"
In a Courtyard of Rest, of Thoughts, of Sky,
of Dreams that weave through The Passers-by;
Such a charming place... on a favored bench space
to ease one's pace... and enjoy a taste
of some hide-and-seek senses...
Especially when they're edible expenses.
How about that Tapioca pudding?
Simple sunshine is mine.
And isn't it conveniently, companionably Divine?
Sweet as Serenity... soothing... sublime...
Oh, Nectar of Light and Air... Help me humor some daily cares...
As playful as the fountain that sparkles there; (Pond-ering)
These are the "premises" of Humankind that we share. (As I go a-wandering)
I love to see what new product "crops" are ripe for The Harvesting
in This Season's assortment of shops... Multi-media garden fields...
A mosaic of Memorabilia blossoming and beckoning;
What A Curiosity might yield ~
Treasure is an unexpected contagious smile.
Perhaps I can extend my visit for awhile.
Copyright by Isabell T. Zeviar
An intersection of ideas
invites the Mind's eye
at Borders Books and Music,
like a game of "I spy."
Up and Down the aisles
and aroud my heart;
Peruse my inner files --
Where does anyone start?
with flashy photos --
Windows to Worlds-So-Conceivable;
How easy to long for the Make-Believe-able.
Recipes of Romance, of Action, of Adventure...
of How-To's, of How-Not-To's, of Journeys Beyond Measure!
Cards and Crafts and Gifts and Prints...
A dizzying array of inspired refreshments... for the Soul.
Could all these categories make one whole?
Let me sip it down at the cozy cafe.
I like so-called Society better with a chai latte...
Then set it all "free," and let it all Be... whatever it will be...
at the audio station for some Music alchemy.
And I must ask: Have I changed... or been changed?
Sometimes I feel somewhat rearranged. How strange.
Or have I only just learned how to relate a little bit more
to the ever-revolving-evolving archetypal range
that could be activated and shared and "stored"... inside of me.
Oh, clever companion of Diversity! At Borders Books and Music,
like flirting with a playground of commercial props... and the senses of Possibility!
Copyright by Isabell T. Zeviar
"Thank You Alameda Artists Association"
A Gallery is a Mythical Invitation;
Nothing else quite like Local Art(ists) work... in congenial congregation!
Such a lively animation... like gems... all across the Nation.
"Art" is in the eye of the beholder... so it must be "beheld!"
If to Celebrate community (Come Unity!!??)
and inspire other diverse Creatives so-compelled.
(And build some kind of solidarity and group-wise "Immunity")
Walls-columns-tables of Originals or Prints for sale --
A display of many Talents, many Stories, many Veils.
If a picture is worth a thousand words,
and painting is thousands of Choices;
Each Stroke, each Color, each Breath, each Change,
Each painter knows myriad Voices...
Of Universal languages... Of Human Senses,
from Birth to Death,
If to magnify and refine The Collective "lenses."
And the human endeavor... would be so clever...
And sometimes Blessed. Yes.
This is a Treasure Hunt, not just a test.
For There it all is... and Here we all are...
So Twinkle, Sparkle... like any magic-made star.
How I wonder how some Soul Years can + must go so far.
How I wonder... to keep The Arts (and Muses) alive
amongst all the casualties and generations of war.
If to Re-member the Magic-in-the-mundane...
Or is it "merely" the cosmic dance of the left and right "brain."
And the poet in me will play with some more fun word games again.
One never knows what will happen when Imagination finds a friend!
copyright by Isabell T. Zeviar
Thanks to Amazing Grace... wherever It shows Its local "face."
Or fascilitate a make-me-more-mindful Meditation,
Perhaps catalysted at Alameda Artists Association (waystation).
a little bit more.
copyright by Judy Hardin Cheung
ON ATTENDING THE MONTHLY
FIRST WEDNESDAY NIGHT OF EACH MONTH
POETRY READING AT BORDERS
"I've never read in public until now,"
a 70 year old man begins, "and WOW
I'm feeling so empowered. Why did I wait
A seventh grade student begins the same way;
voice quivers on the first line --
by end of poem grows strong.
audience helps the poet along.
Like endback with the ball the words run bold,
in poem the poet knows touchdown, score,
"My poems tell inmost secrets," one poet said.
Another said "I've faced an audience
and overcome my dread."
all have something their heart burns to tell,
and before the friendly faces, tell it well.
"I am so glad to read here,"
new poets say,
"I learned how great it feels to be a poet today."
The other poets have nodded, smiled, they know,
too read their poems here and can agree it's so.
copyright by Mary Rudge
WALKING OUT OF TRADER JOE'S
AND FACING SUNFLOWERS
Arms full of Trader Joe's exotica, import foods
from trade route countries everywhere
to mine at home)
I walk out to see sun on a wall of sunflower mosaic,
surround for fountain. Oh ! My
the light gleam
on gorgeous petals, open flower faces,
beauty in the mall!
Could I gleam golden with such sunflower
Will I eat all these foods and healthy glow?
The thought is planted in my mind, such bliss.
I mental note to
always future add
sunflower seeds, sunflowers, to my shopping list
Copyright by Mary Rudge
BUYING GROCERIES AT SAFEWAY,
WITH A SHOPPING BAG FROM BORDERS
So often I am at the store next door
to Safeway's store,
-- that's Borders ---
in, in their upstairs café
where computer devotees and writers meet.
Tonight I'll read ingredients
on labels on boxes
read a new recipe,
cook something delicious, spoon by spoon.
But I'll be soon again plugged into poetry.
Towne Centre Safeway has tables too;
with coffee cup near, someone is at their laptop
Writing what? Thinking
maybe emails to
remembered loved ones? Shopping list?
Maybe a poem?
Copyright by MaryRudge
4 LINE TITLE FOR BEGINNING A
POEM ABOUT A MAGICAL MYSTERY
FANTASY SHOPPING TRIP TO
(Poem begins) Driving my Toyota into the
Towne Centre parking lot
where all chrome silver car bumpers
like smiles. In my pocket
is my shopping list,
all that I choose – my list of dreams.
Although you cannot
see it, if we shared,
would mine be same as yours?
Let's meet and then compare.
I'll find you in Towne Centre's
some day so fine.
Look for my dream Toyota. And your dream
Toyota too can park right next to mine.
Copyright by Mary Rudge
EATING LEMON CHICKEN SOUP AND DOLMAS
AT DAPHNE'S. DREAMING OF GREECE
I was in Greece before and soon will be
again, island to islands in that turquiose sea.
I see the flecks of golden
in this soup,
before me, dolmas wrap my taste buds like the sun
on olive tree leaves on a mountain side.
When I am
there I may be thinking then
of home, Towne Centre, and the sight of
San Francisco mistily across the Bay,
But now, I think of poets who will be gathering there,
the Muses of Olympus welcoming.
in Daphne's take my heart,
bond Alameda/Greece in harmony,
and I thank that Poetry Muse, far from her home,
me now in Daphne's, stays with me.
Copyright by Mary Rudge
(dedicated to Natica)
How I became the fastest
gun in the West --- that is, West Coast!
So legendary I could boast
I felt no fear –
no danger near --
I could make a stand
when I held my famous trusty gun in hand.
You see, this place named after
empowered me. What a fantastic entity.
That gal sold me this gun at Alameda
Towne Centre (West Coast. South
She would have sold me more
but one fast gun was all it took. Look! Look
there on the wall, a good old-fashioned
yes, I did it all —
mosaic, sequins, tapestry, I framed and hung them,
my kind of art. I even made
my fancy clothes, you see.
Decorated them most speedily.
I did my best. And I well deserve a place in history
to be remembered by posterity
as the fastest glue-gun in the West.
Copyright by Mary Rudge
The sun god raced his horses across the sky
in hot pursuit of her beauty, but Daphne
wasn’t interested in Apollo, his golden hair, fiery chariot,
his red mustangs. Other girls envied her,
"wooed by a God – OMG, "they wrote on her Facebook page.
"OMG - 2 old," she replied, "2 n-tense – OMG."
Too many suns had he run from East to West,
too many woman had that chariot pursued and caught.
Still in high school, she loved running, dancing, joking around
with her friends, trying on personalities like new clothes,
slipping back into the comfort of her old clothes, the ones
that still fit, that is. That boy in Math that liked her, touched
her arm gently at Choir practice when she squeezed past him
on the runner stair, him she liked – somewhat - liked the safe
feel of him, liked the way he smiled into her eyes, embarrassing her
just a little, liked him around her, smiled at him from
her insides out. So, when Apollo made his move against
her one day at Crown Point Beach, after parking his chariot
at sun’s set in Alameda, she ran, as fast as the winds blown up
by Poseidon to help her, snatched that boy by the hand, running
toward her along the sands, till both, done with running, stood
together on a spot, believe it or not, that Gaia, the earth, loved
more than a lot. Out of their love for each other, their mutual respect,
Gaia transformed that spot on the spot into a Greek Café where, until
today Daphne’s picture hangs, a beautiful display - Daphne’s Café,
and where that boy and she still sometimes stand today,
ordering combos for four or more - disguised as moms and dads.
© 2010 Mary Loughran
Read 6/26/10 at the Frog Pond, Alameda Towne Centre, as part of their Summer Site Write Program
Crow Drops a Feather
Crow drops a feather beside the right rear car door, where she will find it, reaching for the groceries. She picks it up,
seeks to offer thanks to him in the tree above her head. He shies, flies off to deliver messages of warning, answer calls
for meaning, check his email, text a friend, alight beside dark pretty maidens, fluffing feathers on other blocks.
She does not hear him nor any of his kin today, kin whose caws disrupt this quiet street, blend natural voice with clock
alarms at 6:00 a.m. except Tuesdays, when recyclers percuss on large blue cans. Plastic or not, they clang, compete, assert
a neighbor’s right, legitimate as the street sweepers whoosh on alternate-side- of-the-street parking days, to encourage
early bird behaviors in residents rushing to move Toyotas, Cherokees, Pathfinders, an occasional old Mustang. On this chatty
lane, live mocking birds, robins, wrens who nest, raise children, party, spend time on power lines above humans laughing,
barbecuing, trimming vines, exchanging information.
Crow eyes Falcon swoop in one morning, set up house atop the redwood tree, feels tall branches quiver at Falcon’s
sweep in graceful arcs above the neighborhood. Crow keeps his distance. Feathered neighbors notice Falcon, go about daily
chores in the shadow of her shade. Her, squirrels busily ignore, run par course on tree trunks and porches, pluck budding
plants for appetizers, chitter arrogant at the woman chiding with "shoo’s" and sweeping broom on the sidewalk floor.
Dinner brings discussion time in plume-y homes, what to do about Falcon, listed under "Birds of Prey" in every pocket guide
to bird watching in Borders Books just across the way at Otis St. "Only a matter of time," they say, "until someone gets hurt."
Crow and family, one street over, by second sight confined, bide their time on telephone lines. Too soon, Falcon feeds on
carcass on a trimmed front lawn. Next day at Falcon’s window – feathery sounds, then the cawing fast surrounds,
as a darkening black cloud spirals its way up the redwood tree. Hours later, Falcon flees. On his way home, Crow drops a feather.
No police report is found by stringers for the local papers.
© 2010 Mary Loughran
Read 6/19/10 - Borders Books, Alameda – as part of their Summer Site Write Program
MYSTIAL FROG POND
( A site write )
Alameda Towne Center
From the Pacific Ocean, going through the Golden Gate, the beautiful San Francisco Bay.
In this spectacular bay - - - the island, Alameda
On it’s shore - - - the enchanting Towne Centre.
Oh! Yes, It looks like any other shopping center from the outside.
Walking into the interior on cobblestones, under an arbor
Like entering a rainforest, plants and shrubs of every description
One entrance leads you past the bronze sculpture, “Buena Vista.”
To the enchanted Frog Pond, were five frogs frolic, one floating happily on its back.
It was stated in the Alameda Sun, if you made a wish at the Frog Pond it might come true. A copper penny will suffice.
Bronze butterflies land lightly on the walls of some of the stores. Outside cafes with cuisines from around the world.
At one end of the mall is a boulder garden with lounge chairs surrounding an outdoor fire pit.
Follow the cobblestones by a fountain with a charming mural of Sunflowers - - - further another arbor.
Pass a squirrel setting on a store’s window ledge.
A deer grazing, another laying content along the cobblestone walk.
Every avenue filled with flora, lamps, and benches for your comfort.
A great bronze sculpture, “ Into The Calm II.”
A modern mural concept of “Old Neptune Beach.”
It’s been rumored that on certain nights when not a soul is around,
This enchanted mystical garden comes to life.
The frogs croak and swim. The deer romp, and chase butterflies and squirrel.
A great place to spend a relaxing day or afternoon.
Copywrite by Peter E. Sandholdt
Poet and Spinner of Yarns and Tales )
WEBSTER STREET SITE WRITE
EATING ON WEBSTER STREET
(another poem for fame in Alameda)
How many words are there to say delicious?
Are succulent and savory the same?
Yiu can expand your taste vocabulary
with Barbecue of Alameda's fame
Everett & Jones is the name,
copyright by Mary Rudge
A nation of poets is what we are
who meet at cafes like this one
writing with friends, exchanging lines,
tasting our latest imagination masterpiece
like piece of cake.
We savor words with hot coffee or
ice chunked tea, later something to go.
Our books are like hamburgers on buns,
sesame or plain, sandwich on rye (wry)
juicy stuff between covers.
And every time
we meet, rhyme or without rhyme,
is always salt and spice of poems we bring,
is always a romance for poetry lovers.
copyright by Mary Rudge
The Summer Site Write
This month this street becomes an open book,
a street library of pages, poems eye level
as people go their shopping walking way,
reading poetry taped on windows, doors and walls.
4th graders, 6 graders, high school students, adults, all
responding to the Summer Site Write call
with haiku, sonnet, lyric, free verse, ode,
with every meter, style, to become book or song,
write poems of shops, cafes, all kinds of things to buy,
but most of all poems telling us to try
the fun of finding words about adventure
of the place, the day, the sights, the site;
saying, you too, come
shop, and eat, and, bring your Muse along,
copyright by Mary Rudge
The bands were playing a rhytmney beat
Colorful strollers danced in the street
A wandering musician hopped on the bandstand,
Made a washboard sound like a baby grand
Sir Webster P. Nut suited in his Sunday best
Handed out coupons to bystanders at the Peanut Butter Fest
Kids of all ages, playing and wiggling
Eating peanut butter on crackers, squirming, giggling
Half of all Alameda appeared at this scene
Not a cloud in the sky, Bay waters?
Upon returning to Alameda Phyllis Diller has been known to mutter
She left her heart in San Francisco but not her peanut butter
Because fresh peanut butter is delicious gourmet
It's highly recommended by the FDA
Either smooth and creamy or thick full of crunchies
A good hunger suppressant when
you have the munchies
Peanut butter was born on the corner of Webster and Atlantic
In 1914 roasting peanuts was the next best aroma to romantic
The wellspring of Peanut Butter, Alameda’s historic glory
Guess what you’ll be hankering for at the end of this story
There aren't many items that will turn a boy into a man
Like a glass of milk, a sandwich, peanut butter and jam
Little girls in doll houses set their doll's eyes aglow
Making peanut butter'n'jam sandwich lunches to go
The bands keep on playing, hands of time keep on turning
Webster P. Nut loves new recipes with his appetite for learning
How to cook goobers into the finest culinary treat?
We’ll see at the next Peanut Butter Festival on Webster Street.
© A.M. Fonda
VIEW OF A PEACH
A ripe (or unripe) peach
Is Nature’s paint box.
The fingers of time and water and sun
Mix the colors, artists known, yet silent
at their work,
Their fame as ancient as the earth
That produced their numerous opea.
It is a marvel, and nothing less,
That boredom and fatigue
Have never intervened nor interfered
With their artistry;
Instead, each paint box
Patiently and uncomplaining Rolls off its
gnarled assembly line,
Yet none ever alike.
© Alysa Chadow
PARK STREET SITE WRITE
Park St. Predicament
Choose my fav place here on Park Street?
Alack! Alack! Oh my, oy vey!
Do I pick my beloved Books Inc.,
or Starbucks where they make my latte?
And what about dear Dogbone Alley,
or Daisys or Bowser's or Sway?
Not to mentions Scott's Shoes
where they're patient while I shop all
And how do I not vote for Tucker's,
with their terrifically tasty ice cream?
The long lines at night are powerful proof
that their scoops are the stuff of our dreams!
But what about Alameda Bikes,
where they sell the best fixies and trikes.
Or Toy Safari from whence come the "yikes,"
from the overjoyed toddlers and tykes!
Linguini's is great, Ching Hua is the
Oh how can I pick one and make sad the
Okay, I can do this, I'll risk dirty looks,
and choose the one place with all the
the one that has wonderful chapters and
to tickle the fancies of folks of all
as a teacher and parent --
if I stop to think --
there's only one choice,
it must be Books, Inc.!
copyright by gene kahane