Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Naturally, since my escape from the womb, I have become older. I mature. I become wiser. Sometimes, stupid. Stronger. Learn to learn. Learn to love. Evolve from hunger for Mothers nipple too lustful for my loves breasts. To understand what … Continue reading →

JUST A NOTE TO WHOEVER MIGHT WANDERING THROUGH MY POEM BLOG: p0ems 1215-1219 a not to be taken seriously…. I had to get them off my gut, but they are poorly writ political propaganda not to be counted, avoided if … Continue reading →

Where have all the John Wayne’s gone? How did he become that idiot Dad, that senile Grandpa on TV comedy and TV ad? The frustrated money man whose harshest curse is “Schwab!”. The sweating knuckle dragger in the weight room, … Continue reading →

Have you noticed? Someone’s missing! From TV Ads. From academic honor rolls… It’s the vanishing white guy!! It’s Robert Young who doesn’t know best. It’s Atticus Finch who’s been outed as a man of his time. And todays white guys … Continue reading →

(Settle back. Relax. This is a long one…) Remember him? The wagon master on WAGON TRAIN. Brawny, barrel-chested, wise, jovial… everybody’s Grand Daddy, a kindly, mobile mountain of a man. Ward Bond was the actors name. Came up in the … Continue reading →

It’s not just a rant. It’s rage! Fuck Viagra! To Hell With Sildenafil… It’s not E.D. It’s OLD. It’s anger over the crumbling of the phallic, superiority of the Past. The years have beaten back the rooster in the race … Continue reading →

From below, as he looks up, he sees the round bottoms of rain drops like glass marbles, some lit by sun as it flirts from behind gray, storm clouds, red, orange and blue, green, plopping into the stream coming down … Continue reading →

1 How are screens made? Who had the first idea? Were a thousand ants trained as weavers to work tiny looms to create my back porch no fly zone? Is there some massive press with a billion tiny needles to … Continue reading →

Yep! I am olderly. I don’t like to accept that, but, realistically, I have to admit that. This December 12th, I fall over the edge of the middle of my 70’s and totter on towards 80. (For those of you … Continue reading →

I walk slow when I want to but run with the rest. and I’ll always be wanting to kiss Brigit’s breasts! I’ll drink tea like my Ma did and whiskey like Da for tis blessed to be sober but more … Continue reading →