
SF’s counter culture beacon
expired long ago
but the misinformed keep coming
hoping for haven in a city bought and sold.
Rebels seeking sanctuary believe in legends
about commercial-free living
that never existed
Drop outs of the material world
Camped out refugees of life
some were scarred war veterans
some were abused as children
some were unmedicated crazy
and self-medicated lazy
psychedelic prophets
fool of ranting aimlessly at ghosts
empty stomachs refilled
with junk food garbage
illicit drugs and poverty
they remind me of pigeons
scavengers of our trash heap world
Summer of Love rejects
who never left the trance of utopia
eastern meditation mind flow
dancing in a ring of vibrating chants
flower children romance
LSD mind scramble
with Mary Jane’s green canopy
mellow scene puffing dream of wise folly.
SF’s over-flowing with stranded pirates
shipwrecked on lost love disasters
tricked with a fool’s gold compass
naked hippie 49ers mining philosophy.
The City mesmerized and taught us
naive passion, idealization beyond reason
even to the point of hospitalization.
We gambled our hearts stumbling through
dark midnight parks and portals
of human zoos, S & M themed
amusement dungeons,
orgies and polyamory are mainstream here
in St Francis’s Wild West liberal facade
of vegans, yogis and Mercedes Benz
driven pretend gurus and money launderers
pretending enlightenment can be sold
exchanged for sex or money.
“Grass, cash or ass” was the infamous slogan
back in the heyday glam
of free love and drop out mentality.
This rainbow city mirage
famous for gay nouveau pride
and bleeding liberal hearts
is actually packed to the border
with greedy Republican and Democrat
crusaders and hoarders of old money.
Behind the political curtain
is a faked out liberal joke.
SF’s illusion of caring is a rope a dope
This Oz is green with money bribes
and Wonderland transients cope
through science fiction’s scope
Big Brother is here and now
vagrants have no hope
they overdose on escapism.
False shamans medicine smoke
chi water wind sage fire mage
they pretend they know
the ancient wisdom of borrowed cultures
pay to live and work in a commune
but true meditation is not meant for profit
it’s a natural brain medicine
in time and space you’re boundary-less again
free to choose your mental state
but earth bound cosmonauts are sick
and polluted with nonsense
greed in excess of our senses
we strive to thrive on artificial addictions
trying to outlive our wounds
with narcissistic possession
as if we should capture and control nature
collect things and people like trophies
ending in I, not the collective understanding
of wisdom and good.
Knowledge is a kaleidoscopic diamond
of shared reality
but no one wants the truth
in San Francisco
posh young and old billionaires
drink luxury cocktails
flecked in swirled gold
their decadent lives in constant celebration
they profit from not working
in entitled generations always the master
lording over the wasteland trash
call girls in ripped clothes in decrepit alleys
while the mad impoverished
howl at the moon over subway tracks
generational tragedy of poverty
peasants and freaks toothless and tear stained
huddle in their own hated stench
like medieval time travelers of misery
until Death finally ends their life sentence.
In gilded, tech Mecca mansions
electric scooters shoot by
Strangely labeled a haven
a sanctuary city,
San Francisco is an endless sidewalk
makeshift home to the homeless
where most would ignore a dead body
thinking it’s just another passed out
skin saturated with scabs
everyday zombie hobo.
Suffering is normalized
desensitized with flare here.
Tourism profits on fantasy
techie monopolies invent new spyware
old world ruling families fund corporations
which are the new plantations of exploitation
which built this bigoted country,
massacred the natives and imported slavery
stole the natural magic and sacred respect
replaced it with gluttony with no regrets
where only the rich can afford to survive
swimming in pools of peasant’s blood
in vampiric aristocracy
psychopathic immorality
immune to compassion or feeling
raised by servant nannies in sterile wealth.
They called the original people Savages
while they mercilessly butchered their families.
On Ohlone stolen lands
is where golden gated San Francisco stands.
This poem rips the scab off the delusions of never was, not might have been.
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I like your perceptive comment.
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This poem is a masterpiece, Judy.
And I’ve never read contemporary San Francisco summed up so well.
And you manage to do this analysis in riveting poetic imagery.
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Thank you Christopher ❤️, I appreciate your wonderfully validating opinion 😊!
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A very dark picture of San Francisco. I must admit that during a recent short stay in the city, I sensed a heaviness in the air among the people on their way to work.
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Hi Rosaliene, SF is in my opinion still a beautiful and magical city but it’s been heavily impacted by gentrification in the last 25+ yrs, practically all the artists and working class have been evicted without cause or economically forced out (happened to me and many friends). All the character and liberal legend of what SF stood for is gone, but the homeless population grows. It’s very sad to me because I loved living there, now it’s very depressing to see all the boutique shops and trendy restaurants that cater to only young techies and old blue blood money. $$$ rules SF not artists anymore.
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Phew! That shook and moved me so much. I felt it all: the anger, the sorrow and the hurt. It’s not your usual flowery ode to the west. It’s intense and feels like a roller coaster ride! Great work.
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Thank you very much Nitlin, I really appreciate your thoughtful and validating comment!
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Thanks for sharing this side. I learn and get a perspective that is hardly spoken in usual media… Most just talk the language of dollars!!!!
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Thanks for appreciating this kind of writing. I dislike how materialistic our society is, and I complain about it frequently! Haha, I’m glad it doesn’t annoy you❣️🙂
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No… It’s always a pleasure to learn another perspective; especially when it’s such a genuine one
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I appreciate your kindness🥰❣️
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