Quinn: Favorites

Nov 2013 Quinn

Conrad Aiken

It is now two hours since I left you,
And the perfume of your hands is still on my hands.
And though since then
I have looked at the stars, walked in the cold blue streets,
And heard the dead leaves blowing over the ground
Under the trees,
I still remember the sound of your laughter.
How will it be, lady, when there is none left to remember you
Even as long as this?
Will the dust braid your hair?

Nov 2013 Quinn

33 degrees celsius

Nov 2013 Quinn

The Noose

33 degrees celsius

The sun looks and feels as though it seeks revenge
The sweltering heat exarcabating the chronic fatigue that plagues this youthful body
All of the grumbling and screaming turning into a silent whisper
And subsequently, a yawn
I feel oppressed by mother nature

The wind is blowing in fiery-like gusts When it touches my face I can feel all the energy oozing out of me
Justifying this idleness

The air smells of wilted Jacaranda tree blossomings, strewn across the lawn
Which would be blissful if inhalation of these smells didn't spur on pesky allergies
It feels like the end of days

I yearn for the feeling of relief in the air and within myself when the infinite skies flare up and release the rains
And the pleasure of hearing the water murmur when it flows over the stone work in the front yard

Endurance
Endurance.

Nov 2013 Quinn

The Land Of Dreams

Nov 2013 Quinn

William Blake

The Land Of Dreams

Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.

“O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lillies by waters fair.

Among the lambs clothed in white
She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn—
O when shall I return again?”

Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wandered all night in the Land of Dreams;
But though calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.

“Father, O Father, what do we here,
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the Morning Star.”

Nov 2013 Quinn

Eulogies

Nov 2013 Quinn

rachel

Eulogies

Old, and weak
Laying in a casket full of cala lilies
Hearts beating slow
And tears spilling fast

"you're dead, my dear."

Words spoken in whispers
Collapsing out of the mouth
Thoughts of grief
Regret
Sadness
Anger
Denial

Standing at a podium
At the center of the holy place made for whorship
Say goodbye to loved ones
Write a eulogy and tell the world

"you were an amazing person"

"but you're dead now"

Nov 2013 Quinn

Aloof

Nov 2013 Quinn

Jeremy Bean

Aloof

I know that I'm not all there
scattered pieces everywhere
I had to let parts of me die
just so others could survive
joy, pain, angst and rage
are just shards of the puzzle
I have to learn to turn the page
to break free from those struggles

doing so time after time
has taught me not to try
investing in attempts to find
whats not worth sacrifice.

Oct 2013 Quinn

the ephemeral meerkat

Oct 2013 Quinn

Joaquin Andres

the ephemeral meerkat

A.
a child hears fairrie wings
amidst a damp forest, the meerkat
morning is peering over
the womb of night
is emerald - within the dawn :
a spectral spark
nature
B.
harmonious pristine in essence
imagination staves a longing
a lifetime, unseen to the human eye
moss, fern, gully green
grace immortal, golden, true
meerkat's observant utter innocence
sunlight now settles over day
clay is the sky, clay is the earth
clay is time .. spirits spiral out
into twilight, soft as electric rain
steaming, luminous pond water
let go
C.
that dream,
the most youthful childhood
by the light of the moon
dreamt, and dreamt a little harder,
a went on to grow up ..
..and dreamt
-of a far away lagoon
where meerkat looks on
as undiscovered as imagined
maybe real
on another planet, -in another galaxy
as real as hearing a flying fairrie's
wings sing.