Author Archives: Ken Greenman

The only good thing about my being here when you are way over there is… ah… well… yes, the thing is, that… oh, well… I tried.

“Majestic!” They have destroyed that word! Read through some damned dictionary just to see: Majestic Alarms Systems Majestic Can Corp. (ash cans!) Majestic Garage Majestic Rug Cleaning Co. Inc. (Two of them!!) Majestic Staple Co. Oh’ my poor weeping muse! … Continue reading →

how long I have lain here dying I shall never know. life roots as far back as it flowers forward… but here, now in this moment, you divide eternity. in our savage lavish ravishing thrusts in the love lusts I … Continue reading →

I love her when she bids me, “Come! quickly!” see the sun above the ocean rise to paint dawn sky, sea spray, apricot, the unhindered horizon shimmering yellow gold. I come, not so quickly from a warm bed, am stunned … Continue reading →

From the other side of fog comes the echo of your steps. You, splashing paths in street puddles. You are beautiful, though I cannot see you you are beautiful though your hair is drenched you are beautiful because you are … Continue reading →

They’re playing our song. A memory sings me back to you. A melody of smiles with a counterpoint of tears. The harmony our voices sang echos now and then in the wooded, peaceful spaces that at times surround my life. … Continue reading →

eyes stare deep into eyes which look down to hands holding tightly other hands not letting go. arms wrap around arms pressing, pulling waists, shoulders, legs, hips together. yesterdays, hopes, nows, together yet not one. an invisible, unbreakable bubble, something … Continue reading →

I How potent her illicit love… she sits, waits at her desk, stares. She remembers her promise to keep or break, or deny ever having made. She weighs her wanting. There are no hours like moments with him. His name … Continue reading →

I don’t mind a rainy Sunday morning If I can lay beside my lady and count the times we come and go wherever our minds will travel and talk of all good things to do tomorrow, someday and now…

Will you, with me, surrender to the wild winds, to the wild hot winds wet with humid passion? moist memory lingering longing longing to simmer in damp love soaked sheets sweet to the senses. The tart taste on the tongue, … Continue reading →