Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Just sitting still. A lost art. Rediscovered in retirement. There is a soft southerly breeze spinning the garden spinners slow and easy, and playing on the deep throated Woodstock chimes hung from the live-oak branch. I am dozing on the … Continue reading →

A book’s like death. Sneaks up on you and Bang! The old you’s gone forever. But you died slow, page by page, and a new you, hidden, is uncovered, chapter by chapter, slowly, like the slow slide in the agonized … Continue reading →

She was the looney-toon of our gated community. laughed about, neighbor to neighbor, part of the necessary initiation for any new arrivals, just to warn them off, keeping her isolated, a plague, quarrentined. So, when the smell was noticed by … Continue reading →

I’m getting used to letting days slip past in a long stream of unaccomplishments, just pulling the sheet, blanket and flowered spread up to the unfluffed pillows only by habit, when, before, we’d even the edges and lengths of all … Continue reading →

Look. I like the world and all, but I like it better without hearing aids. I’ve been becoming deafer daily, for years and had my aids installed just a few days ago and DEAR GOD! THE NOISE! Did you ever … Continue reading →

How tiny the seed that birthed the great Sequoia, General Sherman, the oldest, the largest, living being, dwarfing the mamouth Blue Whale, towering above the sun-seeking-rain-forests of the Amazon. Did the soil cradling the seedling know the sacrifice it was … Continue reading →

At last! Comes to full term, Night, with all her hopes for what her daughter, Day, might bring, births Dawn. What light noon may bring to the world is known by Days first mornings tottering steps and by what power … Continue reading →

I’m an old white poet who loves to write poetry from the heart and open-mic my art to crowds at the Art Works some listening, tolerantly while others are drinking wine and laughing at the bar because I still hear … Continue reading →

When did the nuclear family become two multi-racial-lesbians holding high a Yoo-Hoo baby boy while everyone around smiles? And did you hear? The “STARS AND BARS” flew in front of an armed insurrection on Fort Sumpter once again and two … Continue reading →

I’ve not much time left. I figure fifteen years, twenty at best. But during now and THAT, my days will be spent searching for answers to the question “Did everything that’s happened really happen like that? Was Gandhi just a … Continue reading →