Shooting Stars, a poem

by J. Kirkendall

Shooting stars,
A shot in the dark,
A shot of whiskey,
And shoot the moon.

Shoot the breeze,
Shoot the bull,
Shoot the pier,
And shoot a beer.

Shoot in self-defense,
Shoot anything that moves,
Shoot at will,
And shoot to kill.

Shoot some pool,
Shoot some dice,
Shoot your wad,
And a shot in the arm.

Bamboo shoot,
Target shoot,
Movie shoot,
And shoot a slingshot

Shot heard ‘round the world,
Shot through the heart,
A shot at the title,
And a backside full of buckshot . . . Oh, Shoot!!

Shoot clay pigeons,
Shoot a photograph,
Shoot a glance,
And . . shooting stars . .

I love . . shooting stars.

*    *    *     *     *

Deep Naked: a book review

 by Jeffery Kirkendall

I accepted a free e-copy of the new novel Deep Naked by Riley Hill in exchange for an honest review on


I confess I am a grandfather, and I have never read “young adult / Deep Naked_EbookSmallernew adult paranormal” before. The title caused a pause in my decision making, but oddly enough, I really liked the Acknowledgment section and wanted to know, “What’s a Nacken?” So I read on.


Riley Hill’s word choices, phrasing, blending of sentences, richness of imagery got me hooked on the book. I could have been reading any genre. I was there with the story teller just for the satisfaction of listening to the music of her literary style. The pleasure of her prose.


The book was a page-turner, or I should say, Kindle-clicker. I was pleased to find that the story was not sexually exploitative of any characters, not gruesome in its violence, but still psychologically creepy. A fine balance.


The story welcomes us all into the contemporary life of Crystal, an ordinary young woman turning eighteen, who is called on a hero’s journey by her unique “tribal” elders, their ancient teachings, the deep naked spiritual power of the violin, the reality of soul-mates, soul-families, and soul-threatening forces. And Crystal might do all of this by transforming herself.


Riley Hill has written a labor of love. The plot has a consistent internal integrity and easily imagined authenticity. I suspect it is a narrative grounded in some of her own ancestral history and life experiences, especially where fiddles are concerned.


The story reminds us that essential parts of the past are in the present and reach into our future. The story reminds us that not all truths are written. Some come to us only through our elders’ oral traditions, and in this story, aural tradition.


It could make a fine movie, and I would definitely buy the sound track, especially if it includes Donna the Buffalo. I look forward to Hill’s trilogy being as true to her cause as this first volume.


A special ‘thank you’ to this emerging author who also reminds us, of all ages, that the rewards of a magical life come from stepping off the cliff of what we believe we know, and building our wings on the way down. . . courageously, in truth and love. Good message.

Rain, Rainbow, & Snow!

The rains and winds lingered and rested periodically.  Great mountains of clouds parted, and moments of sunshine peaked through to gentle landscape.

A full rainbow formed north-east of Apache Wells, Arizona stretching in a long, low arc from the northern foothills to the plains south of Big Chino Wash. Scattered homes on the distant plateau were shaded in all colors of the spectrum.  Human activity paused in reverent solitude.

The nation of clouds re-united, colors faded into shadow, and snow began to drift to-and-fro, falling as feathers might if dropped from heavenly pillows. Friendly flakes held hands and groups took the form of heavenly confetti.

As the temperature dropped, a breeze began to build, and the weathery feathery crystals moved into a quickening  swirling dance.

Then, as carefully choreographed by mother nature, partners  suddenly parted, streaked sideways, settling motionless on the grasses, trees, wooden fence rails, and all visible earth.

(February 15, 2009)snowy morning 001

Wishing you a cool interlude on a sultry summer day.


Jeff & Carol


Homecoming – the poem

This poem is dedicated to all the brother and sister veterans
who deserved a hero’s welcome in the past
and those who deserve a hero’s welcome now. – Carol Jarvis



If I had been there

I would have strewn your path
With lilacs and lilies-of-the-valley
I would have anointed your head
With lavender
And placed a hero’s laurels
On your brow

If I had been there

I would have bathed your feet
With rose water
And covered your face and hands
With kisses

If I had been there
When you came home

You and I
Are here and now
And there is still time
For a hero’s welcome
Like you deserved
And I would have given

If I would have been there
When you came home