Affirmation: My New Day

In solemn reflection
Of expanding time
Between past suffering
And today's promise

I am grateful
For the easing
That allows me
My new day

My new day
Steeped in grace
Here all along
Obscured by clouds

Clouds from storms
That roll through
Watch them pass
In distant light

Ken Owen  Van Niddy Press  April 2014

Comedy and Tragedy (are just a heartbeat apart)

On our morning walk

Jack The Dog stuck his long snout 

inside a gopher hole

as he has done many times before,

but lo and behold on this day 

it was delivered unto him

a gopher,

who promptly bit him 

in an attempt to save his life.

Jack got him in his mouth with a fast snap
and then with a lightning quick flick of his head

sent the gopher flying through the air

landing 10 feet from his hole.

Jack seemed stunned.

The gopher lay dying,

his dark glassy eye 

gazing towards the heavens - 

the light he’d been told not to go in to,

his chest heaving 

until we watched him 

take one last large breath 

and lay still forever.

And there we were, staring, quietly,

and I noticed I was looking into his eye,

watching death come and life leave

this tiny creature who never saw it coming 

until it was too late.

Jack The Dog: 

Taker of Life, 

Darwinian Pack Thinner, 

The Grim Reaper of Gophers.

As Jack and I

stood over the little gone gopher

Jack looked at me as if to say, “Can I have it?”

I said, “Don’t even think about it, murderer.”

Just then 

coming up behind us on the park path, 

I heard two women 

on their morning walk:

“Spling Bake! Spling Bake! 

No sku today!”

said the elderly Japanese woman

shuffling along in a brilliant pair of pink Nikes.

“Ahhhh, no sku,” said the elderly Indian woman

in a fashionable sari 

of beautiful colors 

and snappy blue walking shoes.

Two women with no common language

practicing their English on each other

had just missed a lesson

on the Great Circle of Life.

They looked at us to see what we were doing.

I wanted to tell them 

they were interrupting a funeral,

but I didn’t think they’d get it.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Supply and Demand

I am not lazy,

I am uninspired;

it feels like

all tanks are on empty.

The Mind,

once a grand and bustling 

warehouse of activity -

crafting poems and love songs

at fevered pace

and rushed in special delivery

while trying to keep up

with the demand -

is quiet now

as The Heart lays still

waiting for the next customer.

Poets

it seems

are not afraid

to bleed in public,

but I fear the market for it

may have dried up.

The End.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

A Day...Off

4/20/2014, Easter Sunday, Fremont, CA

Jack and I had the day off. No gigs, no driving, no expectations. We were giddy with excitement. Here's how our day unfolded:

8:00am. Coffee. Jack abstains and just gives me dirty looks until he can guilt me into a morning walk.

8:30a.m.  The Sunday Slam front office decides to close for Easter Sunday. Some on the Board of Directors suggest this is like a band taking off New Years Eve, while others argue an Atheist posting today would come across as favorably as something from the Westboro Baptist Church. Note: the best topical analogy always wins.

9:00am.  Morning walk to the park. There is no baseball today - my guess is that all the good Catholic Little League Coaches are home helping their kids find Easter eggs in the backyard before the dog does - but there are plenty of cricket games being played by Indian software programmers with not one wife/significant other/female fan in attendance (there never is). This morning I think I notice that one cricket team has pulled their left fielder; a late inning strategic move, I wonder....until I realize I don't really know if there is a left fielder in a cricket game. What the hell...

10:00a.m.  A home made breakfast of all things bad: bacon, eggs, and my new home style potatoes that have been so successful they have replaced my "Daddy's World Famous Tater Tots" on the menu, though my tots shouldn't be discouraged; they enjoyed a ‘Cal Ripken/Lou Gehrig/Dark Side of The Moon’-like run on the all-time favorites list. You can't stay on top forever....

11:00a.m.  A drive to the pet store for dog food. I can't take Jack with me, he thinks it's a buffet.

11:30a.m. Multiple Facebook posts remind me of Easter bunny chocolate, which makes me think I may need to take a 1/4 of a Father Charlie’s Magic Chocolate Holy Wafer from The Church of San Gregorio, uh, to help me concentrate on my chores for the day. Yeah...

12:00-12:30. Session in the backyard soaking up some fresh vitamin D before it rains tomorrow. Welcome to California, the land of 3 different seasons per week.

12:30-4:30. I remember lots of guitar playing and naps during the Giants game, and an attempt at a Bloody Mary and giggling at my choice of drinks on an Easter Sunday….

4:30. Shower and a clean shirt for dinner.

5:01. Duh...?

6:30. Dinner. Dreams on the couch of steak and a caesar salad became spaghetti and frozen turkey meatballs when push came to shove, though really, there wasn't much pushing or shoving at all.

7:30. The thought that everyone needs to know this on Facebook.

7:45. The realization that know one cares...but do it anyway because that's what you do.

All in all, a good day.

On the list for tomorrow: look up the rules for cricket and see if they use a left fielder.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Hard Work

A married couple 

came to the house 

for dinner one night

for wine and pleasant conversation

When we were done

they thought it the perfect time

for me to settle their argument

on which was the better way 

to place silverware 
in the dishwasher 
- up or down -

and that's when it hit me:

this marriage business 
is hard work

and might be 
damn near impossible

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press     April 2014

The Next Big Move

Sometimes I worry

those bubbles that rise up from deep oceans

are from ancient voices in serious deliberation

at the bottom of the sea

Neptune and Poseidon

might be extremely pissed and cranky

down there in heated discussions

over their next big move

and I'm concerned they may just decide 

to raise up the world's great waters 

and bathe the land in one last cleansing

so we can start all over again

but then again

that's just me.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Midnight In The House Of Love

He awoke

from a dream to a dream

and saw himself

alone amongst the ruins

as shafts of blue-gray midnight

pierced the darkness

through faded stained glass scenes

of love's once glorious ascension

and shone their celestial stage light

upon a battered altar

where worship and communion

once held in gratitude of blessings

now stood deserted

littered with artifacts 

of another lifetime's remembrance.

In solemn processional 

his every footstep screamed through the empty hall
and ordered sleeping memories of laughter 

and solemn promises of forever

to begin their nightly haunting

and suddenly he knew 

this place

this was where 

he lived

this was where 

he worshiped all he was given

this was where 

all was lost

and suddenly he knew

there would be no more hymns of love

confessions heard or contrition offerings

or sermons on forgiveness

and suddenly he knew

how no good could come 

from the wreckage of this place

and what he must do

gather it all

pile it high with memories

promises and shattered bits 

of heart and soul

burn it down

till the rising mourning flames 

are glory bound

dance the healing dance

watch the funeral pyre burn

while ghosts rise and wail

each one in turn

burn it down

all of it

walk away

and don't look back

so he did
and as he left
he sang to himself

"The way you made it, 
that's the way it will be."

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Signs

In sorrow chains that bind

with suffering that blinds

the closed heart and the mind

denied of healing time,

let go, they cried,

there is no other way,

let go, let go

the anchor of the past

the weight that sinks you fast

the storm that will not pass

your soul tied to the mast,

release the pain inside

and sail away,

release, release

to see the signs around you

shine light on truth within you

The Universe to guide you

the path to better serve you,

lift up your heart and see

be shown the way,

lift up, lift up

things happen when they do

design unknown to you

in time The Answer true

revealed into view,

teach lessons from the past

so pain may pass,

teach, teach

from endings we begin

redemption for our sins

choose to live The Now

the signs will show you how,

begin the journey

to a stronger, better you,

begin, begin.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Jesus and The Chickens

I Saw Jesus, Part Two: The View from Angela's Deck

I saw Jesus 

with a big dumb smile on his face

- I think he was high again -

looking over the backyard fence
at the chickens running around in our yard,
so I asked him, "What's up, dude?"

"I really don't know what I was thinking
when I made chickens. I can not, for the life of me, 

remember what that was all about."

"Now worries, dude," I said,
"the eggs are good and they don't
take much care and feeding."

"Cool," he said, still grinning.

"Hey man," he said,
"nice job on the raised vegetable beds!"

"Thanks. We needed those to keep the gophers
from eating what we plant."

and then I stared at him,
and he knew I was waiting
for an explanation on gophers.

"Dude," he chuckled, "I, uh, really, uh,
I mean, what can I say? 

There was this whole
rats, mice, squirrels thing happening one afternoon,
and I think left the room for a minute and when I came back..."
...he shrugged his shoulders for emphasis

"Gophers!"

"It's cool, man," I said,
"not everything can work out
the way you plan it."

"Exactly what I was saying, man, exactly!"

and he smiled and walked away
mumbling something about grand design
and man-nipples and Paris Hilton
while fumbling for his lighter

and the chickens went on about their business
as the clouds rolled by 

in their puffy white perfection
that Jesus never made mention of
but he should have
because they were beautiful.


Ken Owen  Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Why I Don't Mind Cigarette Smoke

1966

my sister and I

in the back seat of my parents

powder blue Chevy Impala

on the way home from a Sunday trip

to Grandpa's house in The City

where I stared for hours

out his back window

at the neon Hamm's beer glass

filling up over and over,

I felt safe and warm 

in the back seat

no seat belts

the car full of cigarette smoke

from Mom and Dad

as we headed down the freeway

they used to call Bayshore

back to our windswept home in the fog

while begging our Dad to turn on

KYA or KFRC on the radio.

Those simple days are over,

Tell It Good-bye.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Back Seat Drivers

The Heart and The Mind
were in violent debate
on which ancient dogma
or modern new-age philosophy
or combination thereof
was the right map to use
to get out of this broken down
City of Suffering
when The Driver said

"enough is enough,
let's just go.
I'm driving
so shut the fuck up!"

So off they went
confident
for the moment, at least
on the road chosen

as they looked out the window in silence
at the scattered bits of wreckage
along darkened streets of memory
and tried to focus on the horizon
and what lay ahead

while no one dared look
in the rear view mirror.


Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2014

Reflection

Look up.

And I notice
In this moment
For this moment
I have everything I need

A warm bed
A book of poems
To be read
A book of poems
Unfinished in my head

Coffee
Still warm
The dog in morning meditation
at my feet - his Zen is perfect

I'm trying to learn
How to arrive
At the place where
I can appreciate these things
Without trying

To wake
In first lights reflection
And behold
Life's unfolding perfection
And let gratitude
guide my direction

With each new day
As the gift
That it is.


Ken Owen  Van Niddy Press  April 2014

The Things That You Do

With minor deliberation
beyond the Self view,
your results might be different
with the things that you do,

someday you will learn
what The Universe holds true,
you get what you've given
from the things that you do,

with no solace in offer
nor province to rue,
I wait not for contrition
for the things that you do,

the well traveled road
shows me what I must do,
in silent reflection
of the things that you do:

         I forgive you
               now
      because I should

                               someday
                           because I can

love true in deliverance
from a heart you once knew,
now lost from the cost
of the things that you do,

the walls of pride's fortress
hide from life's view,
the damage you've done
from the things that you do,

cry for redemption
and I'll cry with you,
as you seek to find answers
for the things that you do,

after much to consider
I bid you adieu,
and wish you good luck
with these things that you do.


Ken Owen  Van Niddy Press   April 2014