KAILEA QUINN'S FIRST POEM

Ziku just turned three.
I just turned three too.
My bear is sixty-five
And my froggy is five.
My mama is forty,
No, yeah, thirty-three.
Today my mama's
Having another birthday,
But I don't know why?
Ruby just turned, she's
turning, I don't know.
Can I push the buttons?

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RELEASE

Read Vonnegut.
Pray for peace.
Eat organic.
Love to pieces.

90 DEGREES TO THE EAST

Still sweating from bikram
so on up to the tower;
(where laziness might often
add a word like power
i won't cuz don't is the name
of the game these days);
but power was at the tower,
in all of its majestic grandiosity
as the masked sun set
on the midnight me
in all of my half-drunken
Bacchic revelry, leaving
Bacchus bawling his eyes out
and Kokopelli fluting
for easier fare, having come
to the conclusion that
i'd rather be here than there.

(no subject)

You Know i got it and i love it
and i'll read it a thousand times
like i glance at your pictures, but
what do i do with that? what t'
'he fuck do i do now, save for
feed the leather of my cleats,
do the laundry and the dishes,
call a million friends or two,
sit on my hands, making wishes
that things were different?
cuz shit, i've done all that,
and thinking along those lines
i should maybe widen the scope, no?
and grant the world world peace
or a starving baby a chance to eat?
i've done all that time and again,
so, again, 'the fuck do i do now?
i can't take any real action
and there's no satisfaction
in anyone any place anything else,
so the question remains in my brain,
and bubbling up in a rare form of logic,
it seems the answer to all this pain
is to lovingly embrace nothing and -ness.

BE THERE NOW

Right now I'd rather
be anywhere but here:
Virginia, California,
Thailand or Tanzania.

2 WET CAPP

I tried to write a little something
but even I couldn't stand to read it,
being that it was a laundry list
of everything I do these days
to keep my mind occupied
so my heart will sit silent.
So that's what I'm left with,
just the taste of a thought
lingering on wine-stained lips,
a "Trapeze Swinger" sung softly.

IN SECURITY

When did our country
become a "homeland"?

DIRTY MONEY

If I had a piggy bank
I'd smash it to smithereens.

SUCCUBUS

You crept
into my dreams
this morning
until i awoke
and you were gone.

XO

Rose bushes rising ten feet tall
make a midget of a man like me,
who would surely go and clip them all
for but a kiss from a lady like she.

SPARKS (C)RASH

The ceiling keeps leaking
Through white lightning flash.
My ecstasy's peaking
As I make my mad dash
Past beer breath and Spark smoke
And eyes made of hash.
The keg is all frothy.
Know the Monster Mash?
Is it really good luck
To blow an eyelash?
And where is my bacon?
And where is my cash?
It up I was making -
There's no sword for my sash.
If I were that night
Then myself I'd rehash.
But I'm only that guy
That's fixing to crash.
I'll tsunami you too
With my iron cross splash.
Guess it's time I got going.
Many thanks for the bash.

SOLE SOUL SNUGGLE

I slept through the snooze
button for four hours,
my early morning vetoed
by my bodily warning
to get more sleep or die.

MOON AROUND THE RING

The Capricorn full moon
Punches holes through the
Patchwork of quilted clouds.
Skippers steer slow sloops
Through uncharted channels.
Smoke rises off the fires
Of the sun's re-reflection.
Stars, planets, planes
Play tag in the dark,
Gazing at my twinkling eyes.

MAKE A WISH

So many stars in the sky.
So little time to space out.

LOVE IS

Love is the sun.
Love is a rain cloud.
Love is a rainbow.
Love is lightning.
Love is the last day of school.
Love is a cold river on a hot summer day.
Love is sushi.
Love is sake.
Love is cheesecake.
Love is wine.
Love is chocolate.
Love is tequila.
Love is a warm fire.
Love is a purring cat.
Love is a dog's kiss.
Love is birth.
Love is death.
Love is blindness.
Love is sight.
Love is beauty.
Love is delight.
Love is the answer.
Love is the question.
Love is family.
Love is friends.
Love is the means.
Love is the ends.
Love is all there is.
Love is everything.
Love is nothing.

JESUS CHRIST GETS SCHWILLY IN PHILLY

i had the same plan
as Dan the man with the
volvo instead of the van
but beat him to it
or so I thought
and met him back at the car
(where he told me
he'd been screaming
"polo" or "pancho"
or some crazy thing
or another or the other),
where the line danced circles
around us and our where? abouts.
i Billy Breathed
and in so doing dropped
a big and beautiful balloon.
no sooner had it left my hand
than did a stranger fellow than i
Hoist it up and return it,
as full to the brim as before,
if not more.
the crowd pirouetted once, twice,
singing Juntas of Rifting Round Rooms
and dancing Law Boy jigs,
Pictures of Nectar dripping from them.
we went Undermind, underground,
over hills and valleys of ether
and whither we went they followed.
they danced on our lawn
'til the suncame up
and we found ourselves
once again at home
in the Farmhouse
telleing over and again
The Story of the Ghost.

. . . TRANSIENCE

If I slow down enough
I find myself at peace
With the inertia of my . . .

GREEN FLASH

Lucky lighter
superstition.
The light is brighter
from this position.

ELECTRIC

Long nights
Long-awaited
Too soon in coming
Mornings
Full of inside jokes
And minor gaffs.
Smiles wide as Venus.
The promise of a brightening
future together.
Glittering golden skin tones
And wide eyes.
The sunrise.
The headache.
The couch.

EAU DE MOI

I do not smell like roses.
I am not a flower or an herb.
I am neither rock nor mineral.
I am not a bead of dew,
even though mostly water.
I am not a beam of light.
I am a million beams.
I am matter.
I am mammal.
I am man.
I am beast.
I eat.
I drink.
I sweat.
I stink.
My scent cannot be bottled.

BLESS

Lightning flashes on my
Sneeze-clenched eye lids.
Outlined shadows dance
Through the darkness.
In that glint of gold
I catch a glimpse of God,
my eyes wired shut
by my body's blessing.

VERMONT LAWS

In the Green Mountain State
it's legal to skinny-dip
if you go "'round the bend",
but illegal to whistle under water.
If someone trespasses thrice
you're entitled to shoot them.
And while yellow lines grace
the paved roads, they are but
a suggestion, a helpful notion.

SUNDAY'S SILLY SIGHTS

Waiting at the train tracks
for the barricades to lift;
then the train stops and
starts backing up until
it's cleared the intersection,
when what do i spy but a
warning on the cargo tanks:
"Do Not Hump". Ha! Hee! Huh!?

Back in the town I call home,
at least for the week,
and there's this red Jeep
in front of me, oncoming
with a stakebed red - the Jeep
swerves across the lines,
directly in front of the truck
before the driver clues in
and speeds back to safety.
The truck driver passes me
with a shit-eating grin
and a big thumbs up
for the other guy,
my favorite response,
showing grace and humor
in light of a no harm,
no foul coulda been but
wasn't, win-win incident,
what I call a wincident.

AWAKENING TO RAIN

This is not a summer rain.
This is the kind of shower
that graces NorCal winters,
Coming down for hours,
Widespread and tender.
Energizing my powers,
cleansing demons, doubts,
and loving on the flowers.
This is the rain of the goddess.

TAKE A HIKE

the cave and the cliffs
remind me of that which
i have yet to discover

the tree growing out
of sheer rock asserts
that anything is possible

the chipmunk carrying
a mushroom reassures me
that i am never ever alone

A DAY WITH ANY OTHER NAME (WOULD FEEL THE SAME)

When all thoughts center on
loving lust, addiction, and lists
and the coffee's not working,
my circles growing ever wider...

...I retreat to my wooded lake,
where polychromatic ripples remind
me of the beauty of the moment,
lapping rhythmically their language,
blowing ever downwind to shore.
Sunlight sparkling sequins, spotted,
here, there, and everywhere.
Wind-rustled leaves, like a river,
light breezes blowing clouds over
ever so slowly, on universal
Time to reflect like the water,
to be grounded and found
in the losing of the chaos,
to see the order in the patterns
around me, surrounding me.
Time to feel the only feeling
worth feeling today or any more,
that of peace, tranquility,
serenity, serendipity,
synchronicity in symmetry
no matter the score,
to Feel Alive Again and at home
by my lake, on the shore.

KEEP IT COMING

What a fucking tease.
More wasabi, please.

PASSWORD

/ / E
/ L O
/ V /
/ / /

IN THE AFTERMATH . . . HER

...I wished it was
I dreamt it was
It shoulda been...

MADRE DE DIOS

If indeed "man" is modeled after God,
Then surely God must have had a Mother.

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN

There’s a room in my heart where a little you lives.
Some days I can feel your pulse passing through
Out-stretched hands as you hear my heartsong.
I imagine my hand on your own (heart).
Most days your heart is light, and you sing to and through me.
You sing and you dance, swirling and twirling,
Spinning and grinning, showering the room with sweetness.
Sometimes you play dress up, sometimes you go out for the eve,
Taking wing, wafting off through wide, open windows.
But you always return come dawn like a fairy to the light.
Some days you are quiet, still as a summer day in the desert,
Just sitting and watching the gardens below, the birds above,
Cooing in time, sighing, smiling, winking at the sun.
Yes, I can feel the smiles. They are warm to the touch.
I cannot see you but I know you are there.
And that is all that matters any more.
That you are a part of me.
That I am all around you.
That we are inseparable.

ANGEL DUST

If we put our faith in the pix
that god is 7
and the devil is 6
then it's 42 steps to get to heaven.

Make of it what you will,
just like the rest of it.

Make of it what you would,
as if it were as it should
be, as if the world could
consciously conspire for good.

5 TO 5 ALIVE

2 Satellites passed like stars in the night.
I sang “Angel” songs - not well, but alright.
The stars, they shot, the fish, they jamp.
Crickets a-cricketed, serenading the camp.
My heart twittered and patted, soul twitterpated,
My belly over flowering, my mind satiated,
Full up to brimming, and my body, if twinned,
Most likely’d be spinning and swimming and
Offering my smooth and slippery face to the wind.

STRIKE X OUT

I’m pretty much yours for the taking.
Strike that.
I’m yours for the taking.
Strike that.
I’m yours.
Strike that.
Yours.
Truly.

This ain’t bowling,
Yo, it’s baseball.

Three strikes.
I’m out.

FALSE RHYMES

Lightning flashes
in purple,
Spurts from on high.
One satellite,
Another, the same orbit,
by my eye.
Asking for a shooting star,
I get it, then
the showers fly.
If I could share this
with one I might
just be satisfied.
But all I want
is more and More
from this night’s sky.
The thrills come in spades
But I paid
for the full ride.
Then the music comes
In From a car
down the drive,
And I gather my
Things And take
myself inside.
This stellar show
is over, But I got
my piece of the pie.
Though I’d teetered
And giggled, I’m
Content just to sigh.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE

Pretty, please
don't scandal us,
Little Miss Scandalous.