Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Morning Reflection



Yours was once
the face of my enemy.
Yours is now
the face of my forgiveness.


Ken Owen   Van Niddy   Press May 2015

The Garden of My Heart (Waiting for Violet)



With great anticipation
I have set aside a special place 
in the garden of my heart
just for you

Awaiting your arrival I stand 
ready to tend and nurture
that you may grow 
forever unimpeded 

This garden has been home 
to many a flower of love and 
great beauty that time has 
placed in faded bloom

But few have held me 
captive in reverie
adrift and dreaming
before my first glance

So join us now 
that all may grow strong
from the gift of love 
eternal in the flower of you



written in anticipation of the birth
of Ms Violet Eloise Leitner

Ken Owen    Van Niddy    Press May 2015

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Creature Comforts


Perhaps our greatest distinction as a species is our capacity, unique among animals, to make counter-evolutionary choices.”  ― Jared Diamond


     We have come to a point in the evolution of our species where we lay claim to our superiority over all creatures with bold proclamations of our advancements, not from within the sacred halls of museums rich with our antiquity, but from the shelves of our locals markets announcing our gifts to the ages such as all-natural peanut butter that requires no stirring (it seems separation for peanuts is normal and, hopefully, not as heartbreaking as it is for us), and bath room cleaning bubbles that need not be scrubbed (my small brain can not begin to imagine the effort it took to teach them the art of independent scrubbing.)

     I, for one, have always found stirring the peanut butter a perfectly reasonable and symbiotic task to perform while the toaster and the espresso machine exchanged their morning pleasantries. Now I stand there like some sleepy-eyed bystander reflecting on how, later that day, I will use my coupon for 8 seconds of non-stirring peanut butter time by assisting the no-scrub scrubbing bubbles (I still don't trust them) on the shower wall while I consider the proposition that washing my clothes with a soap that promises the smell of a spring rain, and drying them with small sheets that will make folks think I've just come from a walk in a summer meadow, might constitute a technologically induced seasonal conflict of interest.

     So here we are, smelling fresh as a daisy grown in The Garden of Monsanto with a faux spring rain, our rung on the evolutionary ladder secured via no stirring, no scrubbing.

     It's hard to imagine things getting much better.



Ken Owen    May 2015
Van Niddy Press