Wasn't it just January?
One month in to a "polar vortex" winter?
Then the spring.
Warmth finally returning.
Weren't we all just complaining about the heat yesterday?
That "polar vortex" wasn't that bad, surely...
Here we are again.
The leaves dropping and a chill in the air.
Time flies.
Like some madman is messing with the clocks.
A day is a year.
A month a day.
So much happening.
Life passing before our eyes.
Old life, over life, new life.
Swoosh! Blink and it's all gone.
The tidings of a runaway clock.
Ticking us onward.
Whether we like it or not..
K.J.K. 11/11/2014
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Monday, December 15, 2014
The Pathway Series
Greetings!
Today I have posted the "Pathway" series of poems. Blogger is displaying the poems in reverse of their proper reading order. To avoid confusion you can read the poems in their proper reading order by clicking on the links below:
*Images used under license from Nova Development and Click Art
Today I have posted the "Pathway" series of poems. Blogger is displaying the poems in reverse of their proper reading order. To avoid confusion you can read the poems in their proper reading order by clicking on the links below:
*Images used under license from Nova Development and Click Art
The Path
(Pathways Three)
There is a path, along Wild Brush road.
It twists and turns.
Goes up a hill, down a valley, up another hill.
The path goes on and on.
As do we who walk it.
Picking up thistles along the way.
The knees hurt.
Petition for rest -
That is not forthcoming.
The path is hard.
It's not easy.
Although it should be second nature.
Comfortable like a favorite pair of jeans.
Worn in.
But never, ever fading away.
It's a way of life.
We are suppose to live.
To put in to practice.
Not just to listen to -
Like the book.
Read aloud in church.
We are to love others as ourselves.
And it's hard.
And we fail.
That's alright.
Jeans are meant to be dusted off after a fall.
Like sin is washed away by Jesus's love.
So, the path is hard.
There are miles to go.
Before we rest, before we rest.
K.J.K. - 11/2/2014
There is a path, along Wild Brush road.
It twists and turns.
Goes up a hill, down a valley, up another hill.
The path goes on and on.
As do we who walk it.
Picking up thistles along the way.
The knees hurt.
Petition for rest -
That is not forthcoming.
The path is hard.
It's not easy.
Although it should be second nature.
Comfortable like a favorite pair of jeans.
Worn in.
But never, ever fading away.
It's a way of life.
We are suppose to live.
To put in to practice.
Not just to listen to -
Like the book.
Read aloud in church.
We are to love others as ourselves.
And it's hard.
And we fail.
That's alright.
Jeans are meant to be dusted off after a fall.
Like sin is washed away by Jesus's love.
So, the path is hard.
There are miles to go.
Before we rest, before we rest.
K.J.K. - 11/2/2014
Communion
(Pathways Two)
Communion frightened me.
I felt not worthy of such a gift.
The invitation to table, called.
I stayed in my seat.
I once heard a voice in my head.
"I understand why you feel this way but you are more than welcome in my house."
These were real words.
Not something overheard or imagined.
Real.
There was no one there, but there was.
Still, I stayed in my seat.
The obstinate child afraid of the change already coming within.
Months pass.
Seasons change.
The invitation to table, called.
The seat never cools down because I do not rise.
After service.
A friend listens to me as I talk about all this stuff.
As we talk she hands me a vanilla cream cookie.
My mind draws a conclusion.
No words this time just a thought:
"Do this in memory of me.."
I eat the cookie as tears come to my eyes.
Leaving my friend perplexed.
Communion doesn't frighten me anymore.
K.J.K. 09/14/2014
Communion frightened me.
I felt not worthy of such a gift.
The invitation to table, called.
I stayed in my seat.
I once heard a voice in my head.
"I understand why you feel this way but you are more than welcome in my house."
These were real words.
Not something overheard or imagined.
Real.
There was no one there, but there was.
Still, I stayed in my seat.
The obstinate child afraid of the change already coming within.
Months pass.
Seasons change.
The invitation to table, called.
The seat never cools down because I do not rise.
After service.
A friend listens to me as I talk about all this stuff.
As we talk she hands me a vanilla cream cookie.
My mind draws a conclusion.
No words this time just a thought:
"Do this in memory of me.."
I eat the cookie as tears come to my eyes.
Leaving my friend perplexed.
Communion doesn't frighten me anymore.
K.J.K. 09/14/2014
Stars of Wax
(Pathways One)
A hundred candles are lit.
Maybe more.
Silent night, holy night.
Wax stars flickering in hands that trembled.
What led to this moment?
Started so long ago.
In a past, now muted by the years -
Gone by.
Do you believe in Angels?
Winged or not.
I have seen my share.
Enough to know that they are real.
Even if they don't believe.
In their own existence.
To a Christmas gathering -
In the most unlikely of places.
Was it really a den of iniquity?
Were we thieves?
Or looking for answers?
Even though the questions were never asked.
What led to this moment?
Flickering candles on Christmas eve.
Love, Love, Love.
It wasn't just his Son he sent.
It was all of us too.
K.J.K. 07/25/2014
A hundred candles are lit.
Maybe more.
Silent night, holy night.
Wax stars flickering in hands that trembled.
What led to this moment?
Started so long ago.
In a past, now muted by the years -
Gone by.
Do you believe in Angels?
Winged or not.
I have seen my share.
Enough to know that they are real.
Even if they don't believe.
In their own existence.
To a Christmas gathering -
In the most unlikely of places.
Was it really a den of iniquity?
Were we thieves?
Or looking for answers?
Even though the questions were never asked.
What led to this moment?
Flickering candles on Christmas eve.
Love, Love, Love.
It wasn't just his Son he sent.
It was all of us too.
K.J.K. 07/25/2014
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Circle Of One
She dreams.
Of forgotten things.
Lives hidden in the fallacy of life.
Of her father, Taslasness.
The Land Of Wonder.
Twelve towers gleaming gold.
The river of life:
He sits on it's banks.
Fishing for more then song of verse can say.
"Where has all the Magic gone, father?
No, not only Magic but wonder, awe at the everything?"
The water splashes with no reply.
"What has been lost:
Life filled too much with the day to day.
No time to live after all the time spent on living.
Father, I remember you!
Speak, please to me."
And the river is a dry bed and no one is sitting on it's banks.
A hedgehog speaks:
"Believe"
"Upon the night of this heart, believe!"
Fades out to the dust of the once river, now desert.
Nothing left
After drying of the flow.
Which runs from the inner self.
This child -
Should never die.
"Harken the word!"
Said the man on the radio.
She awakes.....
K.J.K.
12-27-03
Of forgotten things.
Lives hidden in the fallacy of life.
Of her father, Taslasness.
The Land Of Wonder.
Twelve towers gleaming gold.
The river of life:
He sits on it's banks.
Fishing for more then song of verse can say.
"Where has all the Magic gone, father?
No, not only Magic but wonder, awe at the everything?"
The water splashes with no reply.
"What has been lost:
Life filled too much with the day to day.
No time to live after all the time spent on living.
Father, I remember you!
Speak, please to me."
And the river is a dry bed and no one is sitting on it's banks.
A hedgehog speaks:
"Believe"
"Upon the night of this heart, believe!"
Fades out to the dust of the once river, now desert.
Nothing left
After drying of the flow.
Which runs from the inner self.
This child -
Should never die.
"Harken the word!"
Said the man on the radio.
She awakes.....
K.J.K.
12-27-03
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Mr. Freeze
They argue.
About small things.
Attitudes needing adjustments.
Tensions of the day.
Unreal expectations
“Why can’t you be…?”
Something the other is not.
Never will be.
A coolness forms.
Like an ice wall.
In some such way becomes real –
Tangible.
Mr. Freeze cooling it down.
Ice in his heart.
A silence filled with wanting to speak.
Neither will give way.
Until she looks at him with a softness he has seen nowhere else.
Will never see nowhere else.
And he melts.
K.J.K.
4
About small things.
Attitudes needing adjustments.
Tensions of the day.
Unreal expectations
“Why can’t you be…?”
Something the other is not.
Never will be.
A coolness forms.
Like an ice wall.
In some such way becomes real –
Tangible.
Mr. Freeze cooling it down.
Ice in his heart.
A silence filled with wanting to speak.
Neither will give way.
Until she looks at him with a softness he has seen nowhere else.
Will never see nowhere else.
And he melts.
K.J.K.
4
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
End Times 7
Hallowed is the heart.
That walked through these doors.
Years ago.
To escape those who sought to abuse.
Others walked the same path for centuries.
North by northwest.
A path, a road.
A way to and or from.
Found a Whey Station.
Place to repose.
Found a place to heal.
A place to dream.
Now the road calls.
As it has before.
Time to move on.
To the next adventure.
The circle is open.
The circle is closed.
Incense burns.
Frankincense and Mir.
The scent of smoke fills the room.
With a prayer of parting….
K.J.K. 02-01-07
That walked through these doors.
Years ago.
To escape those who sought to abuse.
Others walked the same path for centuries.
North by northwest.
A path, a road.
A way to and or from.
Found a Whey Station.
Place to repose.
Found a place to heal.
A place to dream.
Now the road calls.
As it has before.
Time to move on.
To the next adventure.
The circle is open.
The circle is closed.
Incense burns.
Frankincense and Mir.
The scent of smoke fills the room.
With a prayer of parting….
K.J.K. 02-01-07
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Coasters
Sunglassed eyes smile at me:
"Are ya nervous yet?"
Manly mouth utters: "Not at all."
Mind, thinking through a wave of terror says:
"Oh my, I'm gonna DIE!!"
Coaster moves to top.
Click, click, click....
Pause like forever.
Then, Oh my, I'm gonna DIE!!
Mind to mouth:
"Don't scream! Don’t scream, man!"
Mouth to mind:
"Aghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Coaster stops, back at the start.
Sunglassed eyes smile at me:
"Well, how'd ya like it?"
Manly mouth utters: "Lets do ten more!"
Mind sighs: "Not on your life, sister!"
K.J.K. 8-24-97
"Are ya nervous yet?"
Manly mouth utters: "Not at all."
Mind, thinking through a wave of terror says:
"Oh my, I'm gonna DIE!!"
Coaster moves to top.
Click, click, click....
Pause like forever.
Then, Oh my, I'm gonna DIE!!
Mind to mouth:
"Don't scream! Don’t scream, man!"
Mouth to mind:
"Aghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Coaster stops, back at the start.
Sunglassed eyes smile at me:
"Well, how'd ya like it?"
Manly mouth utters: "Lets do ten more!"
Mind sighs: "Not on your life, sister!"
K.J.K. 8-24-97
Friday, January 24, 2014
Trying - End Times 10
The wind is bitter.
Shakes the house with a roar.
But I’m trying.
To bend like the willow.
Fall like the leaf
Blown by the breath of God.
Let the winds take me.
Places I’ve never thought of.
Left alone dreamt of.
The wind is bitter.
It courses through my veins.
Howling like Ginsberg.
Shaking the foundations of it all.
Until all that remains is the soul.
Laid bare upon the table.
These are the winds of change.
The choices that change a life’s path.
Or confirm the path already taken.
The wind is bitter.
The path unknown.
But I’m trying Lord, I’m trying.
K.J.K. – 1/24/2014
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