Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Can’t shoot well enough for a team to rely on. My passes wobble, wing-shot ducks. A right hand only dribble, easily picked pocket. I never fail to fail the expectations of the crowd. Yet, one Sunday afternoon, on an unknown … Continue reading →

Finding your true love is as simple as a pair of socks finding each other in a spinning dryer. Have you noticed? The dryer stops when the clothes are dry and warm. Nothing is tumbling. It is still, calm. All … Continue reading →

Create a creator who cradles a child and coddles a cobra. Who blazes trails but posts no signs. Whose blue print includes kindergarden killings and errant asteroids. Who makes possible, in two atoms collision, oblivion, yet juggles galaxies and multiple … Continue reading →

Someday, later rather than soon, I hope, I shall be a memory. Maybe my sister, Brenda though my senior, by then brittle to the point of creaking, will say to her, then, happy spouse, Gabe, “Remember Ken? Remember my brother? … Continue reading →

To all those who, in times of inhumanity, have turned their faces toward the horror, offered their all, Serbs, Germans, Ruwandens, Turks… all who have yelled “No!”, who have turned their lives inside out for others. Shouted, “Stop!” He will … Continue reading →

We all face our own black holes. Some peer into theirs with doomed stares. Others aim well tested search lights to imagine diamond reflections in the dark.. Others hold their breaths, squeeze their noses, plunge into black. The method means … Continue reading →

You wobble a bit as you stand on your toes to click your heels. “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” That’s how your heart feels. But nothing changes. There are no ruby slippers, just your old … Continue reading →

A line is a series of connected dots stretching out to the left and right. I am a dot. I am a guy, an older guy than before. To my right on the line is another guy, a father but … Continue reading →

Tossed into today is a gumbo of tasty stuff. Make it a must to savor the okra, crab and cumin, mop the bowl with a hard baguette, belch approbation for all the flavors in the whole bowl.

I WILL SEE YOU LATER, carved in a hunk of maple, will be tossed into the sea as my marker when my ashes are scattered there. I want to feel the will of the waves, the constant pull of moon … Continue reading →