Author Archives: Ken Greenman

It seems to me, dear Lilly, young mother of Rosie, my first kissing-crush girl-friend, I entering my early teens, that you, having been a young bride, so near to us, really, in age, that when I, by then, a young … Continue reading →

In a dream with PJ, an actor, a student of mine was this song sung: “You play now, to an audience of angels. Your stage is lit by star-light. Your script is writ by a heavenly wright. And all your … Continue reading →

Born into a contradictory premise. My “Thou shalt not” mother pitted against My “Thou shalt” father. “Thou shalt not be like him!” she begged! “Thou shalt be like me!” he proclaimed. My becoming in the tenuous no man’s land between … Continue reading →

I am searching through an ocean-going library of memories, searching for some pristine purity in my life at sea that can be pictured in sketches other than fading, sepia-toned, frayed at the edges, cartoon reminders of me. Sorry. It is … Continue reading →

Be not so sure of surety, of a reminder for tomorrow on your desk. For always, later or sooner, is the consecutive skipped arrhythmia of a heart failing since birth, is that brief, inattentive crossing of that street where, unconcerned, … Continue reading →

All my birds stopped. Stopped everything. Spearing suet from between the green grills. Snatching sunflower seeds from Droll Yankee feeders. Flitting from tree trunk to branch. Singing. Stopped. Everything. Nor could my bravest Chickadees, whispering chirps and secrets from deeper … Continue reading →

In the Great American Photo Album, Southport’s Bo Jangles is a little snap-shot. A picture of the crew will do. Mai Wong bakes the biscuits. She feels fortune-favored to have the job since she is (secretly) just 15, but she … Continue reading →

The line crew and the regulars at Micky-D’s on an Friday morning, early, weave a friendly, familiar tapestry in my memory. Two state troopers and two EMT’s getting off their night shift. Contractors and a band of Mexican construction workers … Continue reading →

The Cape Fear River on her out going tide poured back into the Mid-Atlantic, the Bay a solid, gray-slate stone, dark churning water and a clouded sky soldered together along the horizon. Then a split ripped the darkness wide open … Continue reading →

My wife and I bumped into God today, at COSCO. Not a shoulder-to-shoulder-big-bang collision! We could never have survived the crash. It was more a conceptual collusion. Back in the rear section, between aisles 23 through 33 where the veggies, … Continue reading →