As Much As I Can Remember

     "As much as I can remember"

keeps changing.

I have this sneaking suspicion 

memories are escaping 

through some unlatched gate

but I can’t remember 

which ones have gone missing.

Sometimes my friends will 

bring one back and we unwrap it 

like a forgotten Christmas present 

and watch it sparkle briefly 

like a movie flashing 

through a dusty window

and I quickly tuck it away

before I misplace it again

and then scold myself 

for letting it escape.

But sometimes they bring back

ones they insist were mine

that don’t look familiar at all

and say

     I remember it like it was yesterday.

     Don’t you remember?

     I’ll never forget it!

I’m amazed 

they’ve remembered

and they’re surprised

I’ve forgotten.

If I remember back

far enough

sometimes I’m not sure

if memories and dreams

left unattended all these years

have jumped the fence and are

playing together in the dense fog

but be they dreams or memories

they seem perfectly content

to stay right where they are.

My earliest thoughts

my oldest visions

don’t move.

     "As far back as I can remember"

never changes...

                                I think.

Ken Owen 

Van Niddy Press   May 2018

Community Service

Saturday morning

and some well-dressed

well-intentioned folks just 

rang the doorbell.

I didn’t answer,

but it got me thinking.

Good people go

door-to-door

and offer to help you

find Jesus.

That’s a powerful testament 

to faith and conviction

and a lovely sentiment

really

until you realize 

their idea of serving humanity 

is hours and hours of peddling 

a 3,000 year old mythology 

created when we had

no answer for thunder or sunsets

that will bring light to your life

and answers to your troubles

and all it will cost you

is the suspension of 

all logic and reason.

What if we had

those same good people

going door-to-door

asking things like

How’s it going?

Is everything ok?

Do you need help with anything?

Anything you need to talk about?

Here’s my number, call if you need anything.

No myths.

No deities.

No worship.

Just caring.

Just compassion.

Just community. 

Just someone

in the neighborhood 

you could talk too

to let you know

you are not alone.

Why is religion

the only community message 

we sell door-to-door?

Ken Owen

Saturday, May 19, 2018

Secrets

I stole her secrets

small bottles of courage

carefully hidden

throughout the house

to get her through the day.

I must have sent her 

scurrying in frustrated panic

to remember hiding places

she could no longer trust

with no one to tell

her treasures were gone

yet her secret

was no secret 

to anyone.

We played 

Hide and Seek 

with knowing looks

and no words spoken

until her secret

followed her 

to the end

and secretly 

no one believed

what they wrote about her

in the paper that day.

It was not until 

much later in my life

in a moment of sad clarity

before I realized 

I had inherited 

her secret

and it still

was no secret

to anyone.

Ken Owen

Van Niddy Press   May 2018