There Is.

There is no time like the present.

There is no time.

There is.

.

Ken Owen  Van Niddy Press    Spring 2013
(inspired by the book "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle)

Spring Haikus

Man and dog resting

in centerfield cool grass

no ball game today.

Howling winds command

to know thy place in this world

humble little man.

Take one more chorus

reach deep down and find something

that yearns to be told.

Hot morning, cool shade
thoughts drift lightly on soft winds
time is no concern.

Five, seven, five - the

ancient mental exercise

keeps my mind moving.

Behold the artist
who cut themselves so deeply
to capture magic.


          ***

First vision of you

in presence of true beauty

stolen heart complete.

Does she really know

the power of her one look
that disables me?

You came just in time

to help me brake free to find
peace resting within.

To love too much is

to neglect the self and lose

the path to the dream.

The answers I seek

you can not provide for me

the journey is mine.
     
Sometimes it feels like

we have nothing to show for 

our painful lessons.

Love affair complete,
the only question left is
who gets the lawn chairs ?

         ***

Bearded man on drums
softly strokes the beat and then

bellows the fire!

(for PT of HJ)

And the band played on

I doubt that anyone got

the clever lyrics.

(for CK of HJ)

Sensitive salads

wilting fast in summer heat
butter lettuce cries.
(for J9)

Haikus in morning

like mental floss for writers

loose small bits of thought.

Enough already!

and with that his haiku phase

ended abruptly.

         

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   Spring 2013

I Will Tend Your Garden

I will tend your garden
where friendships flowered
fragrant and strong
sown many yesterdays
but live on
in eternal blossom of memory.

I will tend your garden
in early morning mist
as gentle breezes
rush to greet me
with stories of you.

Your touch
caressed the earth
and gave birth
to your vision of beauty.
Your fingerprints are everywhere.

I will tend your garden.


Ken Owen.  Van Niddy Press,   April 2013

Without

Love
without passion
Emotion
without conviction
Comfort
without intimacy.

Days
without purpose
Nights
without dreams
Time
without meaning.

Journey
without seeing
Feeling
without believing
Life
without living.

To live
without
is just existing.


Ken Owen,   Van Niddy Press,   April 2013

Pay Attention

When he said

"time sure flys when you're not paying attention"

it rang like a bell

and I thought...

That's what artists do:

we are here to pay attention,

to capture the beauty that surrounds us

to sing of our joys and sufferings

and lift the heads and hearts and minds

of those too hurried to notice

all they are missing.

Ken Owen,   Van Niddy Press,   April 2013

She Is Like The Rain

And the rain came
as tapping fingers on window panes
and rhythmic dancing down metal gutters.
With reverent gaze
I let the joy of natures beauty
wash over me and fill me up,
comforting,
soft and lovely.

She is like the rain.

Out On The Weekend

Saturday, 11:00am

He Is Not One Of Us (Late For Breakfast)

I thought I would start a weekend road trip with a stop at Starbucks to get a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich to-go.

Seemed simple enough. 

I try to limit my appearances at Starbuck’s. I feel like at any moment someone will turn to me, pointing, and in a loud voice scream, “HE IS NOT ONE OF US!”,  and they’d be right. I haven't been to a Starbuck’s in a while, but I knew this one was close and on the way out of town, so I straightened my collar, adjusted my sunglasses, and went in.

It was surprisingly quiet out in front - sometimes these places seem the center of the known Universe when I drive by -  but the line almost spilled out the door when I opened it. I was immediately assaulted with the sensory overload of great whirring sounds and Barristas screaming names of customers over the mellow din of the Starbuckian New York-L.A.-Jazz-Pop music (with an occasional classic jazz performance thrown in to make your ears calm down). 

As I stood in line and began to notice the people who made up the Starbucks clientel, I realized that I had subconsciously left my sunglasses on for two reasons: to observe people without being obvious, and so as not to be ‘seen’ with these people: high school girls in shorts-too-short with beefy weight-room boyfriends holding on to their girls as if they might blow away in a good wind; real estate salesmen in full suits making too-loud proclamations of clients with "unrealistic expectations in this market"; and of course, middle-aged mommies will their heads in the perpetual state of ‘cell phone tilt’ (shoulder-phone-ear) navigating the door with both hands full of coffee while managing what I am sure was a life-or-death phone conversation about trying to find time in Junior ‘s schedule for Pop Warner Football season. I stood in line for 5 minutes, and as it all seeped under my skin and made its way to my chameleon brain,  a strange thing happened; my body rejected the entire experience and gave my thought grinder immediate orders to evacuate the premises. 

I left. 

And I noticed as I left that everyone, not just a few folks in line, but everyone turned to watch me walk out as if to see what newbie couldn’t handle the modern process for achieving coffee nirvana. It was me, and I had not even gotten to the ‘corporate coffee language challenge’ as in “How do I say ‘small house coffee’ again?" So I did the next best thing I could think of...

I went to the McDonald’s drive-thru.

I try to limit my appearances at McDonald’s. They probably get more negative stories than Starbuck’s, but I went to McDonalds and felt proud of it. I know that is not something you hear everyday, but times being what they are, I was happy with my order: small coffee and small fries. Cost me $2.58. Thats it. 

Yes, french fries for breakfast, and not just because they must be laced with heroin (why else would we crave them at any time of day or night just by their smell?), but because I was late for breakfast. No breakfast served after 10:30am, and the sad part is I already new of that curfew as a veteran of many ‘Big Breakfast’ Saturday mornings. (For the uninitiated, McDonalds ‘Big Breakfast’ is the adult breakfast version of a Happy Meal with no toy, though if anyone deserves a toy for surviving an hour of screaming toddlers McDonald’s, it’s the adults. I’d suggest small airplane bottles of booze as an amendment to your coffee. “McBourbon with your coffee?" "Why yes, and Super-size me, please!”).

“Too late for breakfast?”, I asked, knowing full well it was.

The drive-thru cashier replied, “Yes, I am very sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry”, I said, “I’ll just have a small coffee and small fries”, which was an order my thought grinder immediately began to question given that I would be in the car for the next three hours and would almost guarantee me an unscheduled stop somewhere before my final destination.

“Sorry again about breakfast” she said as I drove through. 

“Quite alright”, I said, and I felt like she might just be the nicest drive-thru cashier on the planet. 

My thought grinder figured she must be new.

As I drove away, my thought grinder spouted out, “See there, you not only need to know your place in line, but you gotta know what line you should be in.” That my thought grinder could come up with something that profound and clever at the McDonald’s drive-thru made me smile. 

Yes, I felt pretty good about myself...until I was 5 miles out of town and realized I had forgotten about the two family-owned coffee shops where I could have easily gotten coffee and some thing to eat while supporting local, non-corporate franchised businesses. What a schmuck.

I need to increase my appearances at these places. If they don’t provide small airplane bottles of coffee supplements, I can bring my own.

11:45am

Oh Christmas Tree

Someone put a Christmas tree

ornaments and tinsel

on the side of the road

next to the highway

on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

I could not see if there were gifts.

...and I smiled and thought,

“I’ll never be that clever.”

The tree gave its life 

for some ridiculous ceremony:

kill a tree from the forest

and bring it in the house.

Crazy.

I’d like to think 

they gave it a very special ceremony

when they brought it there

with that beautiful view

for it’s final resting place.

One ridiculous ceremony deserves another.

12:30pm

One Thing, Everyday

I need to create something 

everyday 

no matter what.

A song

or just a lyric,

a poem

or just a rhyme,

some prose

or just some ramblings,

grand ideas

or just some thoughts,

an argument

or just an opinion.

Big or small
doesn't matter.

One thing, everyday

or else

whats the point?

2:00pm

Our Last Talk

When I drive by the hillside

I can see the house,

the place you rest

eternal.

Seems long ago

our last talk.

I remember the day well

but can't remember what we talked about.

I was afraid,

but you weren’t.

I called to comfort you

but you comforted me.

I dreamt of you that night.

You came to me and told me 

not to worry.

I believed you.

I woke up crying

but I felt better.

I still toast your memory when I remember.

Sunday, 8:00am

Leaves

Through morning fog

a vision.

Majestic tree

with branches 
arms and fingers stretched

holding clouds like leaves.

Ken Owen,   March 2013,   Van Niddy Press