What My Cat Taught Me About Love

Love me...

            Love me...

Stroke me...

            Stroke me...

Rub my ears...

            Oh, yeah, oh yeah!

Stroke me.

            Meow!!!!!!!!

Love me...

            Oh Yeah!

Love me..

            Oh Yeah!

Love me...

            Love me...

Grrrr! Hiss - Meow!

            Leave me alone now.....

K.J.K.              7-28-99

Spiral

Do you remember the names?
Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian.
The end crunching of time.

Catching up too soon.
Carboniferous, Permian, Triassic.
Can't you feel the breath on your neck?

Like a warrior is in hot pursuit?
Bearing down towards our times:
Jurassic, Cretaceous, Palaeogene.

The storm is nearly here.
Neogene, Pliocene, Pleistocene .
Can the tide be reversed?

Or shall we continue to debate?
Pointing fingers until:
Holocene.

For what shall come after us?
To the destitute and silent oceans.
And poetry which will never be read again.


K.J.K.  07/05/2015

Love Endures

This is the universe.
Everything known and unknown to humankind.
From back in time to the far flung future.

The unending swirls of cosmic gas.
The birth, the death of stars.
The dark, the light.

Here there are many forces.
Gravity, magnetism, radiation.
Electrons spinning 'round, spinning 'round, spinning 'round each other's orbits.

And in all this universe, all creation.
They pale when compared to love.
What we feel. what we are.

'Cause love builds bridges
Love forges the way.
Love takes risks.

Love calls out to you.
Takes a hit on the head for you.
Protects you.

Love isn't easy, nor hard.
Love continues despite adversity.
Or the whims of Governments.

Love is here.
In the touch.
In the quiet beating of hearts.

In words said.
Vows taken.
Plans made together for the future.

Down a bumpy road.
With many pitfalls to come.
Many joys to share.

Together.
Because at the end as the beginning.
Love Endures.

K.J.K. - 3/28/2015

Dedication: For Denise and Terri Popish

The Cold Tide

I am the icicle.

Glistening in sunlight.

Knowing the point will soon melt away.

Water flowing back in to the Earth.

One day reaching Glendalough.

Where Saint Kevin once built a Church.

Eons ago.

Eons to be.

Water runs.

As do we.

K.J.K.  02/03/2015

Love On Its Own Terms

What would I tell my 16-year-old self?
If I could time travel back.
To that world of teenage angst?

One thing only.
The simplest thing.
The hardest thing.

The thing that no one ever sees.
The thing everyone knows.
But are afraid to admit.

Love isn't what you think it is.
Not some Disney movie.
Not, necessarily, happily ever after.

Love doesn't have to be hugs and kisses.
Passionate nights.
Although it can be.

Love is and is not -
What you think
For you know nothing for the something you know.

So, 16 year old self:
Stop worrying about it.
Just go out, have fun.

Embrace love whichever way it manifests.
Be happy:
Take love on its own terms.

K.J.K. - 01/18/2015

Justice

There is a scale.
Somewhere you only fear to look.

One side filled to the brim with shell casings.
The other overflowing with lifeless, bloody remains.

You are the smoke.
The eye tinctured maliciousness of hate.

Snake, Serpent.
Evil one of old.

Where you walk a shudder breaks the night.
A gasp but not of fear.

Of pure contempt.
As if the sum of mankind turns its collective backs on you.

Snake, Serpent.
You have a scale to attend to:

I do not judge you, although you will be judged.
I pity you.

All the hate you feel.
If it could be washed asunder.

That would be justice
Monsters given the harshest penalty of them all.

To finally feel what you have done.
To know it cannot be undone.

To regret.
For all eternity.

And wish it were not so.

K.J.K.  - 01/09/2015

"Je Suis Charlie"

Drummer

March if you would.

I prefer to walk.

Along gridlines and oil cloths.

Monuments to daybreak

Labyrinth places

Circular and all consuming.

"Tat Tat - Tat Tat Tat".

With a double four beat.

Pounding in the ears.

Life is a challenge.

A call to pickup sticks.

Still the drumming goes:

Where you dictate.

Hold dear.

And believe.

Fear not -

You are not the first to move to the beat of a different drummer.

And you won't be the last.

K.J.K.  01/01/2015

Tidings of a Runaway Clock

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

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:

1. Stars of Wax
2. Communion
3. The Path

*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