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User:Lisa Jeanine Winett

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Lisa Jeanine Winett is a poet, an entrepreneur, a intentional community creator, and a yogi. She was born October 25, 1971 in Harrington, Kansas. In 2008 she joined The Outsiders Writers Collective just as it was emerging and was an active member from 2008-2009. Her poems have appeared at The Outsider Writer's Collective, Hello Poetry, Carbon Based Life Form Blues, and Shoots and Vines. In 2010 she founded The EarthChild Collective, an intentional community and educational nonprofit.

She graduated with a BFA in Art History from The University of Kansas in 1995. Her emphasis was contemporary art and sculpture. She studied under Phil Blackhurst, David Cateforis, and John Pultz.

In 2009 she collaborated with a group of writers to create Haikai No Renga (Kerouac).

Haikai No Renga (Kerouac) by Aleathia Drehmer, Beto Palaio, Lisa Winett, Scot Young, and Jason Michel

Rode the F line down Market with Micheline’s ghost dreams of Mingus jazz

Chinatown alleys city filled with strange faces words and fried duck mix

Inside nursing my last beer outside hookers wait for the light to change

Too stiff to resist falling unrestricted in I forget your name

I laugh at the old woman in the moist doorway crying in madness

Quietly stable tile floors hold my footsteps I dodge a man’s fist

Shoes scuff on pavement beats lingering in fallen steps, hands in pockets

Lost in a haiku night with out a syllable of light to my name

I’m already gone corner behind a corner inside yellow cab

Night moves, arm outside window catching stars in mind, backseat full of dreams

The house felt colder she bit down and squeezed his hand he took a deep breath

Delight in taboo a short walk to peyote cactus clairvoyance

Distant oasis bluer than lapis rings on his lover’s white hand

Meditate on words astral projections awake at the sound of birds

Under the Milk Way waves of mosquitoes swarm low just near Lake Tahoe

Hushed on the dark road coveting a Ford Pinto waiting as deer cross

Dream sequence of past lovers crack in the desert sun, buzzards wait

Mexico City car roof top, sun warmed flesh, two worlds peel in darkness

Quetzalcoatl sings mother-of-pearl amulets a woven Mojo

A nearly empty table, some thin rows of books fifty cents on ground

A tree’s silhouette naked against the winter’s sky A brutal negative

I believe loons mate for life as the eerie night yodel calls your name

A trout breaks stillness starts the ripple pattern to end on polished rocks

Behind the pace I cradle the tornado wind rippling the lake

Mudra hands rest easy knees burn in the bending, an emptiness complete

It looks like Japan pilgrimage long to Great Rocks heirloom pinks around

Roar of waterfall a floating trunk passes by under sunny day

Pressed pages of sun one collection, songs in beat fading in distance

The perfect sunrise is hard to hold like tail lights over the last hill

Passing through Duluth I see Bobby fishing from Desolation Row

Wait for fading light to kiss the soft of angel wings warmed by the day

Asphalt trembling under a terrible sun walking Route 66

He speaks in meter sun lifts from vibrating chords breaks night with few words

Said come to the light Hollywood bullshit no light tunnel ends darkness

Light underground blinked on and off onaoff on off un the derground

Eyes open to flash es of white, mind adjusts to visions once again

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