Tinder dame, early September,
kindred flame I'll long remember.
I crossed her path & she crossed mine,
attraction shared was so in line.
A close encounter, nothing serious?
I'd never tried, she had me curious.
Commitment for us to meet soon,
tonight at 9, nearby saloon.
The tension built 'til she arrived,
a warm embrace, my fears subside.
All the while my stomach in knots,
we cleared the air & shared our thoughts.
Talk of cribbage & our pasts,
hopes for futures built to last.
Face to face, our eyes spoke words,
reading minds, beyond what's heard.
Telling I could use a nudge,
She told me she's not one to judge.
Rainier cans & shots of whiskey,
holding hands & feeling frisky.
She opened doors, established trust.
Leaving together was a must.
One more dose of nerve eraser,
another first, a pickle chaser.
We walked along, enjoyed the view,
talked and smoked, Camel's for two.
The house of love, our room awaits,
we tiptoed through the noisy gates.
Alone at last, where to begin?
The curtains drawn, a lovers den.
Our souls & skin soon came together,
kissing lips soft like a feather.
Arousal swelled, and time stood still,
as I explored her lakes and hills.
A loving gesture I did get,
the best one I have ever yet.
Overcome with thoughts of lust,
the mounted madam felt my ******.
Upon her neck, my hands feel right,
She'll teach me more another night.
Our scissored legs ensured a ride,
within so deep I could reside.
Both of us were so perspired,
we drank some water, cooled the fire.
On through the venture we pursued,
enjoyed each other in the ****.
I found it such a great surprise,
my hands controlled her rolling eyes.
A luscious lass with her own way,
her glass half full began to spray.
I found it far beyond appealing,
it gave us both a special feeling.
Afterwards we're side by side,
I couldn't sleep, my smile's so wide.
Bursts of sleep, I dreamt for more,
was not prepared to close this door.
In morning light, our eyes would meet,
I kissed her more beneath the sheet.
Our bodies rested now and ready,
I gave her mine & took hers steady.
I lost my focus in her eyes,
My ***** release, between her thighs.
A perfect evening, morning too,
a shared passion with someone new.
A breakfast spot, that we both know,
Sandwich, omelet, cups of joe.
It was so nice to share a meal,
two new friends who made a deal.
As we went our separate ways,
I hope again, her eyes I'll gaze.
When I felt lost, inside myself,
I found my way through someone else.

Lenticular clouds
Quickly mask the mountain top
Morning chill persists

If I could climb every tree in this world, I wouldn't dare. There are far too many places where the trees aren't worth the climbing. I pick my trees like I pick my teachers, there are lessons in this world that I need more than the others, lessons that make me gasp with the grip they are holding on my tongue. If there were a temple at the base of Mount Everest, I would be the first person to go there without asking for anything in my prayers, knowing that this mountain held everything I could possibly use inside of its belly and I had only to reach its core. But if the temple were at the top I wouldn't bother, there are things I need to learn to do and climbing mountains isn't one of them, I've got plenty of problems here on Earth and I don't need to touch the sky to know that Heaven's got 'em too. I couldn't imagine a Heaven without a good climbing tree. There is no such thing as pure unadulterated joy, if I'm going to be happy for eternity I'm going to keep climbing knowing that boredom will be the one thing that is always out of my reach, because joy without anything to compare it with is completely and utterly pointless. My God, She'd understand that. She would bring me up above the clouds but continue to put obstacles in my way so I could know the glory of feeling proud for what one has accomplished. But my God exists only in my poetry so while I am still alive, you can bet your *** I'll still be climbing. Those trees will not have a branch untouched, there is a whole forest waiting to breathe its secrets into my veins and I plan to live there until I'm full. When I am full, I will be happy to go to your Heaven so long as it has volcanoes with bellies deeper than I think I will ever reach. There is always something different to learn.

Fuji, Rainier, now to Africa’s pinnacle
she followed, behind a parade of sycophants  
marching, single file behind his greatness  

few made ascents with him  
she only Fuji, on a windless day  
though others made the trek up Rainer,
surviving a blizzard that hit halfway
down  

she told her lover
his faithful must have thought his presence
imbued them with immortality  
which he seemed to possess    

maybe it did, the lover said  
seven decades and one, still *******
old mountains and young women  
and she was still there, despite
the doctors’ bleak sentence    

she was painting, moving
while she still could, a water color
of Rainier in mist, hanging in some
haunted hall in his home

now a pale pastel of Kilimanjaro
for which he would spend a fortune, to hang  
somewhere he would not spend a minute    

when her extended contract expired  
she would be ashes scattered in Big Sur  
and he would still be climbing higher  
breathing heaven’s ether, a color
she never captured  

but her signature
would be on overpriced art  
which from the start, he commissioned
to keep her from leaving without
having seen rarefied air

Tonight I chose a path, followed to its end and it was
Closed off
Kept driving down the road, to find another way
Evening air burned sweet as incense over the green water,
Clear and cold snow run-off, up in the mountains
Where otters made their play
A hummingbird came to say hello, singing in my hair as I
Shook my head around to see it, retreating and returning
My car died, I just lay in the sand
Sticking my toes in
That river running down, if I could only bear it
I'd slip into its current, grow leathery fins,
Oh I'd never go back, but for the memory
Across the way, heavy with trees and a rock face
Scorched by fires of travelers passed by
There are antlers, elk and such, oft in the forest
Their hoofprints in the beach I walk
My toes trailing across the rocks, fingers trailing wind
A small stone, caught up from the water, gleaming emerald,
Pocketed
I wish you'd come dream here with me
For I fear it's all just a dream within my head

Hello old friend,
With your tall sweeping evergreens
Towering almost endlessly
Into a blue clear sky
The endless swell of traffic
Cars peeling down the street
The smell of roasted coffee beans
From some hole-in-the-wall cafe
The obvious transplant donning an umbrella in the Autumnal warm rain
The light sprinkling of water enough
To nurture the verdant green

Hello old friend,
Mt. Rainier, she greets me,
Looming ever majestically
Over expanses of tree and road
Her white peaks cresting over
Fields of blossoming flowers
The tulip fields scattered across the sloping
Skagit Valley, her vineyards spanning for miles and miles

Hello old friend,
Seattle's grungy nature
Masked by her streets of trendy
Cafes and farm-to-table restaurants
Her mom and pop cafes
Her canvas gray dress marred by graffiti
And street tags
The busker on the street corner panhandling for change
The homeless sheltering under a cardboard blanket outside of a Starbuck's
The transplant with the umbrella stopping down to drop change in their jar
The crumpled dollar
The locals who pointedly ignore him on their way to work, to school, back home, to somewhere...anywhere...
The constant dazed bustle
The stench and pungent odor of ****
Curling around every seedy corner and
Affluent street crossing

Hello old friend,
It's been a while
Let me nestle into your newness
A new coast greets me across the horizon
Replaced by homespun everything
Pastoral fields where the bovine and equine reside

Hello old friend,
I suppose you're home now
I suppose you're home...

Mr. Scott has 3 shirts
His style to me it hurts
He has an Is Alpine shirt
He is running low uh-oh fashion alert!

He also owns the shirt with the U.S. Ski Team
To own more than 3 is surely his fashion dream
Mt. Rainier is the 3rd shirt he owns
This kind chap also often times wears pants that are green

Oh Scott oh Scott!
You mustn't be stuck no your number of shirts is not a lot
Fear not o' fear not
Is Alpine and the others are all you need and all you got

I was driving through Washington yesterday,
we started our trip in Renton and made our way
down to Moses Lake; and in the process,
we had to pass through the Cascades on our way there.
As we drove, I watched as the exits flew past:
Newcastle, Wenatchee, Snoqualmie, Ellensburg,
and as we sped past each of these, Mt. Rainier
loomed in the distance; her snow-capped peak
standing tall and piercing through clouds,
as the winding road passed through hills and valleys.
As I gazed upon the jagged sheetrock
towering all around me, I could not help but feel small.
We've been told our whole lives just how big the world is
and how much bigger the universe is in comparison
But I've always had a hard time conceptualizing
how infinitesimal and insignificant my existence is.
So to be surrounded by thousands upon thousands
of rock and stone that have withstood
floods and storms and winds for millennia
and still stand strong, well into the stratosphere,
is nothing less than humbling.

The Sprout and the Bean are genetically the same:
Born from the same mother plant,
Planted in the same mother Earth,
but one had rain,
and the other still waits for a rainier future.

ascend the Space Needle, O starchild!
             though lonely, lonely!

Snowshoeing in heavy rains
ground beneath is slush
Picnic peanut butter sandwiches
beside the water's rush
Resting on a hill
take a deep breath in
Narada Falls keeps flowing
as a gentle snow fall sets in

Let's taste the ocean water together 
just you and I
we will dive into the deep blue sea 
holding hands til our heads are just floating on top 
riding with the waves 
and let's dive in even further after that 
until we're kissing the ocean bottom 
gulping in copious amounts of sea salt and shrimp brine 
lets just dive in 
dive in 
dive in 
and sink with the mollusks and octopi 
give up on living this sham we call a life 
cloistered in our clam shells we don't have a room with a view 
always protecting our pearls from those that are out to poach us for our inner treasures 
remember all the gold memories we've collected in our troves 
like we were hoarding them away for some rainy day 
well it doesnt get any rainier than drowning in these murky depths 
we're like treasure chests sinking to the bottom fast 
lost from some forgotten shipwreck 
we're collecting on the ocean floor waiting to be discovered 
over centuries we'll rust and be covered in barnacles before we're found 
Crumbling in the hands of those that try to rescue us 
lets just give up 
give up 
give up 
but we can't give up 
Not yet anyway
Not while we're treading these waves
with sharks lapping hungrily at our feet 
With rows of ravenous razor sharp teeth
savoring the slow taste of our defeat
as we inch closer 
And closer
With our heads fighting to stay above water
til we can no longer tread with these useless arms and legs
we take that last gasp of treasured breath into our lungs 
and feel the water pressure collapse around our tired bodies
feeling the ache of our worn out limbs 
we sink and we sink 
We sink
We sink to the bottom of where we started 
filling our deflated hearts with all the failed dreams and squandered hopes of all the shipwrecked treasures that came before us 
And all those that join us sooner or later on these murky endless bottoms
We've been here before
And we're all destined to be here again
And again
And again 
So let's just keep treading these waves for as long as we can
Maybe we'll luck out and find an island in all this oceanic bliss
We'll crawl on shore 
Grasping for dry sand and a warm place to hole up in
Before we find ourselves back out
Lost in the sea
Treading water
With sharks licking hungrily at our feet 
With rows of ravenous razor sharp teeth
Savoring the slow taste of our defeat

Climb Mt. Rainier, O male.
       But lonely! lonely!

She came down from Mt. Rainier
wearing khaki park ranger's garb,
a female Moses descending Sinai,
clutching a leather chapbook,
survival notes for a “Dangerous Life”.
Nightingales were songbirds for the grief,
as MS stole in like 'Frisco fog,
unnoticed by a comet-blinded public.
And when the awards came,
strokes of jackpot luck,
acquired enthusiasms soon were
dropped in excruciating back spasms.
She touted poetry as civic-glue,
paste for a populist purpose.
Olympia’s oracle rarely leaves the house,
curtains drawn, newspapers unread,
writing feverishly, as “The Body Mutinies”.

I walk forward,
'nets gripping my thighs
and goosebumps raining from my arms
while warmth spreads through my body,
shedding the chill
as if by magic.

Silk and buttons and pretend lace,
cheap boots,
expensive lipstick,
a night out
with confidence by my side.
There's a laugh here too;
it keeps echoing across the bare valleys of my collarbones
and finding its way to my ears.
I resist the urge to turn and share.
Instead,
I smile, taking half-part,
saving a few for a rainier,
colder day.

A shoulder bump,
warm skin brushing against thin cloth,
pulling away from the wrong
and inventing the right;
stepping to the left
and creating space,
solidifying the distance.

I walk forward,
'nets gripping my thighs,
holding onto my skirt
and letting that chill back in,
discarding the easy warmth.
I walk forward,
giving it up,
giving it away,
shedding the feeling,
shedding the idea of it
as if by magic.

Fishnets,
holes,
spaces,
filled

by warm magic.

Rilke's angels
11:11
More Muslim than Christian
2237

I was in Austria
Just a few days
Sonnets to Orpheus
Shakespearean plays

Rainer Maria
Lesbian poets
Roses and thorns
Goes forth and so its

Angels above me
Jesuit justice
Alex attentive
Gonna break, Gonna bust this

                   Chicago!

The nights are getting darker,
The days are getting colder,
But it's okay,
In every way,
Because fun and laughter still happens.
It's getting rainier,
More daily,
But it's okay,
In every way,
Because fun and laughter still happens.
The ground is getting icy,
The clouds are getting darker,
But it's okay,
In every way,
Because fun and laughter still happens.

Utopian slaves
In praise
To an appraiser
Carved from clay
With a razor
From a braver man
That took a stand
In rainier days
And fenced them in
From the judgments within
Amen is man
Clouded in sin
We are one
Without
Look within

My Country
This of THEE
SWEET Land of Liberty
Of Thee I Sing

Gods Grace upon thie Sky
Earths Love with Wings
We Fly
OhCountry Tis of Thee
Your Wings are Mine

This Earth
Is all we have
Our lives
A  half Raised Flag
Oh Country Tis of Thee
For Uou I ask
Look Now and See

Our Soul
So Clear
With Arms  for All
We gave, we Tried
Don't let this Fall

Come Peace
With Power
Love and Wealth
Send Troops
Of Voting Mind
And Stealth

A Spangled  Flag
Falls from the Sky
First Chase
then Ford
then Pemco Die

Denali
Rainier
Farms
So dear
Please God
this Home
do Keep
To Share

Together
We play, We eat, We sleep
Forever
the memories I will keep
With or without dimes
we are partner in crimes
Rainier
the name so fine
Artsier
he I can find
With or without dimes
we are partner in crimes
Brothers that are bound
Happiness ye shall found
For with or without dimes
we are partner in crimes

The mileage added up to just a grand
Not a lot for 20 days,
No crossing of a dateline
Or a continent’s divide.

But still that world seemed somewhat foreign
and I saw streams of amazing things,
That were echoes of my teenage self,
As different now as I was then.

A hazy forest, dark and damp
Where the mist turned into fairy snow
And we walked on in muddy shoes
To learn the mysteries of falling water.

A midas treasure of wave-borne findings
Spilling from a cavernous hall
Pieces of so many lives found
Floating on the morning tide.

Stories of a Nippon sailor’s life
From things that got thrown overboard
Images of fishing boats
In round glass ***** and floats of cork.

Carve the circle with a line
That led to a reunion of
The ones that I grew up beside
But never quite was welcomed in.

A rounding up of recollections
Shared at tables set for eight
Where those left out still don’t fit in
And bonhomie was the music played.

To the ocean of my childhood days
Waves that tell me who I am
And fill up all the empty spaces
City life drained out of me.

A shining tower with ninety steps
That wound around like pizza slices
And tripped me up to ******* blood
As balsa airplanes spiraled to the ground.

No time for wounding on the schedule
Shedding blood but never tears
The leader of the band played on
Admiring a Tsunami boat

Come all the way from far Japan
With cargo of the local fish
Still swimming in the unspilled sea.
A miracle born from true disaster.

Another beach, not like my own
A warmer, calmer span of sand
With jutting rocks in shallow surf
That dare you out to climb them.

Drawn once more to city lights
And the grassy ***** where mother lies
There were other gardens to enjoy and
And contrivances with just two wheels.

How quickly we grew shuttered in-
Just two days in big city life,
The restaurants and funny shows
Still told us it was time to go.

Longing for the beauty of the Gorge
We were met by smoke and blackened stumps
And exits blocked to waterfalls, ravaged
By the fires of hell, and ugly now for 50 years.

A teenage boy with fireworks and no sense
Destroyed the loveliest drive on earth
And bragged to all his awestruck friends
That all the news stories were about him.

With fingers crossed at Mount Rainier,
The sunny weather turned to slush and
Fell two inches in an hour.  I ate fresh snow
Off branches as we hiked, and froze my tongue.

We wore the heavy coats we almost didn’t bring
And cheered when sunshine took the snow away
And we could walk in forests once again
On trails we never knew were there.

A wonderland of cast off parts and metal bits
Became giraffes, seahorses and other marvels
In the hands of a roadside welding artist
Who sold a giant piece to my home town.

A visit with a sister who shared my youth but not my soul
Who grew one way and I another
Leaving not a thing in common for us
Except the love that comes from blood.

No way to avoid the final city
Hellish place of one way streets
Endless detours and construction
Pay all you own to park two hours.

Yet there was the comedy and
Segways once again to ride.
A troll under a hulking bridge and
Poor Rapunzel in the tower.

Passing up the tourist musts,
Visited in journeys past, we saw
The small and quirky things
That make a foreign city yours.

Twenty days, almost no rain
Unheard of in that rainy clime
A lot of sun, some cloudy skies
A bit of snow to frost the cake.

Twenty days to drive a circle
On the map of who I am
And where I came from
To bring it all back here with me.

To this place so vastly different
I wonder how I found a way
To fit inside this giant tumbler
And plant a seed that actually grew

A would-artist long ago
I wonder how I mixed the paint
To make a life so changed, in colors
Blended from Seattle’s soils.

Painted on a Portland canvas
With a brush of Longview bristles
Wetted with Pacific water
To present my image to the world.
                       ljm

Long ago
Long before the dawn of his youth
Lived a boy, a young boy
A boy who had a dream
A childhood dream.
He would lay at the forest glade
And gaze, gaze in wonder
At the peculiar workings of the earth.
He would count all the birds of the sky
Wander into the dark forest deep
Stroll by the humming river
And paint with all the colors of the earth.
The night's inner glow,
The wild's cheerful tune;
All of earth's splashy marvel
Would prompt his thoughts
To travel the world
In search of a secret.
The blue waters of the Pacific seemed a decent start, he thought
Perhaps a swim in the depths of Waikiki Beach
Or a hike up Mt. Rainier
A stroll in the scenic wonderlands of Northern Idaho
Maybe a nice dinner in Broadmoor Hotel at Colorado Springs
Or build a cabin in Minnesota's lake country
A day picnic at Mt. Chocorua
A quick walk down Boston Common
Or a Tulip time at Bronx,
Drifted his mind.
Bend of Susquehanna, Cayuga Lake, Chesapeake Bay, Rehoboth Beach
Flashed upon his sight.
Then one day, not long ago
To his surprise
He found the secret
Veiled in one who owns his heart.

When Bach and Amadeus
Died in their sleep and agony
I wonder if they knew
What they had achieved

Was it worth the cost?
When the Alps were 145 centimeters
distant from today
and the earth still folds your music
In between its subducting page

I want your great stratovolcanical violins
To extrude pumice and grindstone
to crush sweet music in between
Mt. Rainier and an unknown garden
made somewhere deep
in my quantum dream

The sky takes your notes
It is a great teacher as well
and swell, it does

It tells
me a quadrillion dreams
in every iterative puff of smoke
In every collapse of possibility
of every cat ground to paste upon the street
and all the ones that purr locally
In the arms of some caring soul
A lesser spirit dreaming
In the arms of their god

You play with a broken leg
or an unattached eye
or shaved cilia
And yet still
Your skill
Outmatched
none but ourselves

The bats got drunk when the belfry sunk and the church vanished into a hole,
Cardinal Pole said, 'bless my soul it looks like the vicar has shrunk'

Oh, but Jesus saves for a rainier day and the sunken church will just have to stay where it is.

Sketches on the radio
they're heathens and
what would they know?

Coffee calls me,
not to pray,
not to the church that has to stay
but to the kitchen which in
my place
is the safest place to be.

he asked lots of questions.
he reminded me of the type of person who
would shotgun 4, 5, maybe an entire
6 pack of rainier at noon on a sunday then
go take a very long nap with a fluffy cat (or 10).
sweet fruit, hot april days, future hendrix
on the highway. his eyes sparkled like sun rays
reflecting through window panes when he
was on deck and you know there’s no way
i woulda told him that when i went home
that saturday night i could still feel
his tears burning through the fabric of my t-shirt.

i had never met anybody so passionate
about the life they lived. i had never met somebody who made life seem like a dusty pink haze
where everything was
beautiful and nothing hurt, a silver screen dream etched into a harsh reality.

the man behind us in the check-out line at the
texaco off of 525 could tell from my
messy hair and blank stares that number 4 would die for me but i wouldn’t do **** for him.
they all thought i was sick because
i didn’t cry when my friends went
to heaven. lola said all i needed was
someone who would listen.
i hated emotion.
we weren’t ever close and i don’t know
how he did it but something about him
made me want to live like i wasn’t gonna
be alive by friday night, and i’ll never know
how i felt compelled to do it
but i suddenly wanted to show him the words
that i swore i’d never let anyone see.

he fired ‘em white rats,
he loved ‘em OG hally rats,
he was a lil’ crazy kid who made the girl
who wrote 3 page poems about nothing and had a weakness for nicotine feel like she mattered.
and i wrote about him a lot that year – it wasn’t
because i was in love with him or
anything like that because i still,
to this day doubt that anything or anyone
will ever change the fact that i don’t
believe in the webster’s dictionary
definition of love.

i was intrigued by him.
so intrigued that i couldn’t tell anyone
how i felt without them thinking
i was insane in the head.
so i put him on paper.

-*z. vega

Star Lite
Star Bright
Your Twinkle
In the Pane
Last Night

Bright White
Set High
I Waved my Hand
Hello not Bye

With Wonder now this Day
What Values
Are Your Friends
My Love for All I Share
To Share is How I Bend

A Gift
of Silver Made of Light
to You Returned
Today, This Night

A Forest for a Tree
A Heaven for a Star
That All the Earth
May See Man's Love
For Natures Friends
From Crow To Dove

A Mountain
Named Rainier
Is Calling For Your Help
Protect Earths Lands
of Clay and Sand
Live Life
A Color
Clear

When it first happened
Everything in sight
Taller than I
Seduced me
Urged me
To flee the earth

Western red cedar
Sooty brick chimneys
Rainier caps
You.

I could climb and clutter and choke and caress and cling
Oh to have a moment of solitude
With the blue
If I was vertical enough
Would the fever fade?

I could mutate into molecule
A drift of snow
An aphid eaten leaf
A maroon berry
Caught in a sparrow's beak
Would I be alleviated by elevation?
If I get close enough to God would I be washed of my sins?
I vow never to touch soil again
Tree limbs would be my salvation

Meet me there.