Author Archives: Ken Greenman

In those few moments before the not-really-dark-enough for “can’t see my hand in front of my face” lightlessness almost conquers dusks gray, adding shades to shades of night, but not quite, when, there, on the surface of the irrigation pond … Continue reading →

Pity the people who no longer see purpose in the poetic. Paralized by prose, locked in logic, they don’t get the gist of the small, dark cloud on the horizon racing toward them with the blinding speed of a fist.

Last night, The New England Patriots, 10 and 0 as of yesterday morning, lost. Tom Brady lost. Tight end Gronkowski carted off the field with a destroyed knee. All this tragedy perped by Denver Broncos, minus Paton Manning!!! The aging … Continue reading →

Ah! The evanescent destiny of mist, rising from the feeding streams, the chilly river. What choice has mist but to be mist, to filter sunrise into shimmering beams? None but to gift its widows mite, a crystal glimmering, to rainbow … Continue reading →

The acne faced carni kid, a rookie but a quick study, caught on fast to his new role. The old guy, a good teacher, but his knees and back ached when he squat to long in one spot. So, when … Continue reading →

The wondering skeptic, dying, stared at Death, whose eyes smiled, Death being in on the Great Joke. With a worried thought, the skeptic drifted into sleep. When he woke, soaked in the wet sand on that distant shore, the shock! … Continue reading →

I know that Irving has made me a shrew, but there was, truly, nothing else I could do. Oh! when we were young, back when we met, he was carefree and funny, do all on a bet. With a pint … Continue reading →

How fortunate for lovers the moon moves as she does. How futile to spoon by the dark side of the moon. Its amazing, exact revolution and rotation provides lovers with a guarantee of a silvery moon and a hand on … Continue reading →

The morning I was born, so they tell me, I nearly died. But birth made a murderer of me. I killed whatever it was tried to kill me. There have been many close calls, but I’ve been killing in self … Continue reading →

The fat,round, Red Robin relaxed, splashed around in my back yard bird bath with Reclining Buddha bathing in the middle. The Robin hoped on the Buddhas head, drying his wings, relaxing like a feathered twin, chubby, cool, content. The Flicker … Continue reading →