Author Archives: Ken Greenman

First, Max, in the turmoil of a roiling Russian Revolution (The power of an unstoppable hope smashing into the bulk of an immovable Czar) offered his angry, minuscule contribution: an errant pistol shot, missing the local commissar by a whisker. … Continue reading →

Self Authenticating Truth (so one might hope) should be undeniable. A light from which the doubter can never escape. As a felon hidden in the dark cave hiding from the rays of a torch in the bounty hunters hand, the … Continue reading →

My fathers mother, Grand-Ma Rose was not the famous Rose Schneiderman, powerful, Jewish-immigrant writer in the hurley-burley-lower-Manhattan-chaos of the early 1900’s. No, she was merely Rose Schneider, one of thousands of escapee’s from what was not yet Poland, who passed … Continue reading →

My friend and Neighbor, Charlie G. passed away last week. This poem is for his family… Between college semesters and in the summers, I worked for MALSON AND SONS building houses, schools and churches Hubert Malson was 86, but he’d … Continue reading →

A class in The Doctrine of The Sabbath. That’s the sort of thing I studied at the Seventh-Day-Adventist Seminary. The Professor, the late, great, Doctor Roy, wise teacher he was, personable, you know? On the first night of class, he … Continue reading →

When I consider my senescence, and my built in obsolesce I find there are legions of evil habits I must eliminate from my existence. Like, when I squash my lust for a second or even fourth sweet dessert! My wife … Continue reading →

Every sixth day, as the sun finishes its decent through the heavens from zenith to horizon, while the sky explodes into fiery red and orange flames, a seam opens, a hole between the realms. And through it flows a stream … Continue reading →

What does it take to drown a precocious, athletic, non-swimming- non-floater, 4 foot-5 inches tall, 4, maybe, 5 years old child in a pool, 6 feet deep? Well, not much: His teen age brother, delegated to watch him but who … Continue reading →

Oh! There are so many pictures of god. Just in the winds… In cool on-shore breezes. In roiling hurricanes wild enough to knock me off my feet, press me into the sand, pounding, beating me till I bleed and feel … Continue reading →

…when he could have called upon the powers of 10,000 angels? His cross was heavy. The splinters, sharp and jagged. He was bleeding from a Roman scourging. He was exhausted from a night and a day of pain. The turn-coat-crowd … Continue reading →