Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Fonts Haunt Me

Well, still having some font issues buy everything looks much better now.  You will find that some poems seem to be in a bigger font size then the others.  Yet when I edit them everything is the same.  Grrrrr! So I think this is the way it all has to stay for now. At least until Blogger (Google) fixes their editor. So, probably forever...


(The Human Chronicles, Part 1)

Perhaps it's because the way I was raised.
    Perhaps it's because of those around me.
        Perhaps there is no reason.

Computers I understand.
    Work the magick of -
        Bit, Byte, Modem.

Cats I understand.
    The need for heat.
        Constant grooming.

Humans, my fellow humans.
    I just don't get them.
        Yes means no, no means yes, maybe...

The walls we build.
    Custom, practice, tradition
        Boys don't cry.

Sex is love.
    Love ain't sex.
        Forever is the next morning.

Don't put wallets in front pockets.
    I can't sit down
        That way!

All wanted is to reach out.
    But the fear keeps the corners.
        Only places to sit.

Rejection is modus operandi
    Love should be repaid with the same.
        Not pushed aside, blocked with walls.

    So many rules.
        Break them all!!!

What is society?
    Why allow it to dictate to the soul?
        How do you know this is bad for me??

Inside the bird soars.
    Outside he sits in a corner.

K.J.K. 2-11-01

Sunday, December 9, 2012

End of the World

They said the world would end.
Four days ago.

Instead, a cold wind blows.
It is December, after all.

All the energy spent -
By the popular press.

Tabloid tales -
Doom and destruction.

Yet the sun still shines.
The wind still blows.

The rain still falls.
Droplets on brown leaves.

Inside a microcosm -
Bacteria scurry about.

Like they always have.
But there is something different.

The change is almost undetectable.
Transitions rarely begin with a bang.

Rather they are another step.
Forward in this paragon of existence.

God is wise.
And has unlimited patience.

K.J.K.  12/1/2012

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

End Times 9

It thumps against wooden door.
Heavy hand to knocker.

The house echoes with it.
No answer.

No lights.
No smoke from chimney.

Snow crunches under foot.
The un-shoveled gangway.

Leading to the empty yard.
Waterless birdbath.

Swingset -
Now only moving to the breeze.

The abject condition of life.
Has been here before him.

The doors are all shut.
The wind blows.

The Cold Man lets go of the papers.
The wind takes them and they scatter.

To all ends of the Earth.
As do we.

K.J.K. – 11/7/2012

Friday, October 5, 2012


It flows through you, this energy.

Shining like some light.

Drawing me close; like moths to the flame.

Calling me with some hidden spell.

Oh - you are magick!

Invoke your calling; summon wind, rain, and fire.

Enchant me.....

K.J.K.          10-30-96

Monday, August 20, 2012

Words Again

Sometimes fleeting.
Sometimes overwhelming.

Thick like peanut butter.
Thin like blood.

Drawn on joy.
Remembered tears.

So many experiences.
Spoken aloud.

There is magic in meter.
Rolling of tongue.

The far pressed syllables.
Stressed beyond belief.

Until they break.
Like icicles on the mind.

Embedding their point.
Still - yet screaming.

Waking something within.
That spark of ingenious madness.

Calling pen to paper.

K.J.K. 08/20/2012

Friday, June 8, 2012


Memorial Day weekend, 2012;
The hottest Memorial Day weekend in history.
Train to tower was packed with both sun worshipers and moon children.
Nary could a seat be found.

Dogging sweaty passengers until there are cars no more.
Look up; it shines like a golden beacon in the night.
Run, run before someone else sees -
The one last open seat on the train.

Victory! Claim the prize.
Two less barking dogs.
A knee that doesn’t hurt nearly as much.
A body at rest.

Catch up on Facebook updates, get ticket out.
Sound of riding the rails and –
Giggling kisses?
Turn to look, ever so carefully.

A young, early 20’s couple sit in two seats facing each other.
He, dark skinned perhaps from India. Curly hair, mustache -
Wearing white pants, white shirt and a red bowtie.
Her a light skinned lady with long brown hair and many freckles.

She is wearing some kind of puffy white dress.
Puffy sleeves with lace, um, “things” on them.
Kid you not; she has a white flower in her hair.
Can’t tell much more because they are kissing.

They are kissing.
And kissing.
Demonstrating that America is, indeed, still a melting pot.

There must be some more Facebook posts.
Damn!  Nothing.  Evidently everyone else has real lives, too.
Book, book, is there a book to read?
Damn! Nothing.

The scenery passes by.
A conductor has never before been such a welcome sight.
He stamps it and moves on to the couple.

Giggle, smooch, smooch.”
Giggle, smooch, smooch.”

Giggle, smooch, smooch.”
Whisper – “tickets?”
Giggle, smooch, smooch.”

The conductor looks momentarily around.
All who were looking one second ago seem to found a newspaper or something.
Oh look there’s a Facebook post from last week, let’s re-read it.
The conductor shrugs and walks to the next car.

30 minutes later train is at tower.
The dogs and knees are happy if the faster ones leave first.
Including, thank God, the couple.
The platform is nearly deserted.

The conductor is looking over his ticket book.
Eyes are caught.
“Hot day, eh”?
He smiles: “Going to need a cold shower today, man!”

The dogs bark.
The knees pop.
Distance is tread, each others laughter still echoing in the ears.
Yup, gonna need a cold shower tonight, for sure.

K.J.K. 06-08-2012

Sunday, April 15, 2012


Do you really believe in all these things?
Do you believe that miracles can still occur?
Not ripped out of some holy book.
Telling a story out of the distant past.
Do you believe they occur in the here and now?

There is a flaming sword.
Dangling high above.
Its fire can burn.
As much as it can heal.
Its blade can cut a path to the heart.
Of all it touches.

There is a sun, struggling to keep all its pain within.
Occasionally spewing forth flares.
Geomagnetic storms.
Radiation, both visible and invisible.
To those who look.

Do you listen for God’s call?
Would you recognize it if you heard it?
Above the din which is all of human kind.
The beep - beep sounds made by roving rows of silicon.

These are the wild times.
Foretold eons ago.
Earth Child – Capricorn’s dust.
Let the water flow.
Know not what dam bars you from this place.

The Earth is fragile.
The Earth is strong.
The song you feel is real.
What moves you to words is no more the end.
It’s a call.

You are on a conference call with God.
Along with the other players in this scheme.
The monsters and the saints.
The jackal and the snake.
The woman and the man.

Not embarrassed of themselves like in Genesis.
Rather, confidant of their place.
For the world is changing.
The rules are all mixed up and hard to hear.

The song you feel is real.
Listen to it now.
The Messenger sings.
Listen to it!
Pick up the phone…

K.J.K. – 04-15-2012

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

The Monster Whispers

The Monster whispers in your ears.

In your dreams;
Of your fears.

Of that cold place you never look.
In your head -
Like wishes he took:

Crumpled at your feet like yesterdays paper.
Sickle cell, dagger.
And a rapier.

The cutting edge sliced thin with words;
Heard too often.
Maybe - for the birds?

The elevator stops on its path to hell.
What buttons are to be pushed?
Only that Monster can tell.

So the choice is yours, in what you know.
The Monster, his words.
Where that elevator will go.

Or remember the most important button of them all.
There is no Monster.
Press stop, my friend and stand tall.

K.J.K  03-20-2012

Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Passing

Strangers passing on the scene:

Of daylight, twilight, aisle light.

Florescent blue sky.
Shimmering down from that ceiling of night - light.

Strangers passing, looking twice at each other.
Not with regard, Rather contempt.

Strangers passing in the aisle.
To the abode, apartment.

Away, an aisle:
The gestures of feeble mindlessness.

Strangers passing in the night.
Lit by blue light.

Shivering at the sight.
Of each other...

K.J.K.  2-27-01