Monica Therese Curran was born and raised in Southern California. She attended Walnut High School and Mt. San Antonio College. Monica Therese Curran currently resides in Tracy California with her husband, where she attends California State University at Stanislaus. She writes that she appreciates Central California for it's unique beauty, but will always love Southern California.
Poems by Curran have previously been published in the 1998 and 1999 anthologies "Poetry Heaven Quarterly"(A journal of Contemporary Poetry, Volume 1, Number 3 July 1998, and Volume 2 Number 1; January 1999), "The Poetry Guild" (Parchment, Quill and Verse), and "Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum"(Poetic Voices of America).
A place like no other in the land
The Carrizo Plains
As you walk the land over in the
Across the way from Painted Rock
In and on the outside the rock
Yes this place is an awesome place
Nestled in the San Joaquin Valley
Above the city lights and noise
Is a place where comfort is found
Once you see it
Once you feel it
There is no turning back
Are an awesome sight
The land is bare
Where there used to be
Chumash Indians
Yokut Indians
Only several Tule Elk roam free
Nocturnal are the many surviving Kit Foxes
The caretakers of the land
Distance a rock is in the hillside
This rock is special you see
For it is the Painted Rock
A sacred Native American Indian rock
To be cherished and respected
Is Soda Lake
Bone dry in the Fall
Full of salt
Wet as can be in the Spring
With residue of salt along the banks
Are pictographs of the universe
Cosmos, birds and family
Of hard times that came upon the
Chumash and how they were
Decimated as a people
Rich in history
A place we are blessed to have
As a kid my family and I
As a kid no older than twelve
Taking our hikes up to
What fun those days were
Walking along paths
Squirrels all around
Gracious is this land
Would visit the mountain
Camping in tents for a week
Seeing all that nature had to give
My family would come to
Yosemite
Feel the breeze
Inhale the fresh air
See the trees swaying above
Vernal Falls
And crossing creeks
While eating an orange
Popsicle
Seeing the enormous redwood
Towering over me like
I was nothing
Showing their strength
With forest rangers
Giving a spiel on these
Ageless trees
While showing me their
Abundant rings
Deer in the distance
Don't feed them
If you know what I mean
A blessing to me
My gift to take care of
And preserve for my family
364 miles from Los Angeles
The people are nice and keep
25 miles from Stockton
Sheltered from most crime
Nestled among the Altamont Hills
With the Dry Bean Festival in August
Tracy is a nice place to see
Is a small town
Named Tracy
To themselves
Raise their families
In some special tradition
Along the I-5 freeway
30 miles from the East Bay
Along the I-580
Things are seen
But not heard
Hush, hush is this small town
With a flowing Delta to one end
The California Aqueduct to the other
Agriculture is a tradition here
Water being the main vein of survival
And the Wine Stroll in October
Parades here and there to celebrate
A school game
Memorial Day
Even the Christmas holiday
Bringing out the lights
And the big Christmas tree
A nice place to reside
Although it is not Los Angeles
And might never be
Along the stream I
Sit and rest, taking in the scene
Of the deer drinking
A man-made wonder
An artificial river
Water taken from the Owens Valley
Where farming became a thing of the past
William Mullhulland, the man
That created the dream to
Deliver water to the Los Angeles Basin
In the midst of his popularity
Many workers lost their lives
And destroyed Mullhulland's spirit
Rumor had it, California was divided
Over the water snatched from the Owens Valley
The desert that once consumed Los Angeles
Is now thriving with their gold being
Transported by a man-made river
In her hay day
Paddled along the
Sacramento River
Carrying passengers
Here and there
Creating lots of memories
Now the Delta Queen
Resides in the
Mississippi River where
Gambling and people thrive
Like white ghosts atop the hills
Caretakers along the county lines
Stretching out their blades with pride
Are the windmills creating energy
On the Altamont Hills, over the Altamont Pass
Old Sacramento
Is where I like to visit
Riding the rail trains
All text and images in The Central California Poetry Journal are copyrighted. Copyright by © by Scott Galloway 1999. All rights are reserved. See main Journal page for
copyright information.
Authors and poets submitting original materials to this journal retain all rights to their
original work, except those rights specifically assigned in writing to Solo Publications including the right to publish the submitted work in The Central California Poetry Journal. The poems on this page are copyrighted by the author. Copyright © Monica Curran 1999.
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