Like You Never Left

Walk right in,

take your place

like you never left

because you can

and you should.

I knew you’d be back someday,

if only for a short while

to tell us great adventures stories

of lush forests in canyons deep 

with strange creatures from distant lands...

...and just like that,

smoldering fires burn again.

Together

we’ll give passion to the old songs

while we sing to the spirit in the window,

and the day you left 

will seem like a bad dream 

from long ago.

(Rise above it, rise above it, it’s the right thing to do.)

Welcome home

my old friend,

back to the place

where our journey began,

we’ve lived lifetimes since then.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   October 2013

Passion in Reserve

Passion in reserve

waiting patiently for love

to answer the phone.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   October 2013

A Million Billions to One

Consider the odds

that you and I are here

and found each other

to share

a passing glance

a genuine smile

a seeking day

a warm meal

a slow walk

a moment in time.

Consider the things 

that make us

shape us

break us

rebuild us,

all those things worked to perfection

to put us there and then

here and now.

Consider the events

in the history of time immemorial

that had to line up just as they did

so that you and I 

could have a walk on an empty beach 

that windless day 

when the clouds hung still like paintings.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   October 2013

Sunday

Dawn breaks

as the world rolls slowly over

town by town, country by country,

into a rising tide of Sunday.

The first wave 

lapping at your toes

as we lay together,

breakfast in bed

after one more kiss

one more dream,

then a peek through the curtains

at Sunday skies.

Ankle deep in Sunday,

the possibilities of the day

buzzing like summer bees

drifting on the smell of bacon and coffee.

All God's children

wading through their sins

on the penitent path

seek forgiveness 

in their own way and place,

alone or together,

because that's what they've always done

on Sunday.

A day of chores, a day of rest,

naps on couches and freshly mown grass,

games watched and played,

gardens, parks, beaches,

bike rides and trail walks

when someone looks at the sky and says

“The day is half gone already!”

and you realize

you are waist-deep in Sunday.

Sunday Dinner,

the meal for family

here and remembered

as waves of Sunday pound your chest,

a toast to love and health,

grateful

for one more Sunday.

Too tired to tread Sunday waters,

with one big breath

you slip under,

drifting

until dream tide leaves you 

to wake on gentle shores,

as the world rolls slowly over 

town by town, country by country

into a rising tide of Monday.

Ken Owen     October 2013

Van Niddy Press 

Spiderman Lunchbox

We saw him on our morning walk

a small boy 

tethered, just barely

hand in mother’s hand

on their way to the school 

next to the park.

He looked at Jack The Dog with wonderment

and looked at me briefly

to see what type of person 

walks a great beast in the park.

He smiled as we distracted his focus a few times

but moving always forward

he could barely contain his excitement

as he drew near his destination.

And I tried to remember 

what it felt like

to have so much excitement 

buzzing around inside you

that it made you skip
while Mom escorted you to that magical room

that smelled of paste and disinfectant

where your best friends in the whole-wide-world 

would be there waiting for you, excited on your arrival,

bursting to ask you great questions 

and compare stories of

what you saw on TV last night
as we waited for those sessions
out on the hungry concrete 

that ate skin from girl’s knees and boy’s elbows

while we we ran and screamed with abandon

to the sound of playing on clanking metals bars

and hoped to be picked 

for the greatest kickball game

15 minutes would allow.

And I wondered

what was in his Spiderman lunchbox.

Is it still a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (no crust),

lots of wee-size snacks

not made for kids but for tired moms,

and a small box of something 

trying to pass itself off as real juice (100% natural!),
or did his lunch box come with a matching thermos

that now holds the eternal smell of spoiled milk?

And when opening his lunch 

and seeing slices of apple or celery (good for trading with a girl)

instead of those mini-cupcakes,

is this what will teach him 

his first lessons in repeated disappointment 

in the name of "It's good for you"..?

So,

what would it take 

to get you to skip to work tomorrow

in appreciation of the possibilities 

of another beautiful day?
Once upon a time

it was as simple as the anticipation 

of what's in your Spiderman lunchbox.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   September 2013

Tired

On a tired old day

a tired old man

and his tired old dog

sought the shade

of a tired old tree

to escape the heat

from a tired old sun

that beat down on a tired old world.

The tired old man 

looked at the tired old dog and said,

"I'm worried about these problems of mine.

I don't know what to do."

The tired old dog did not say anything.

Then the tired old dog 

looked up at the tired old man 

and turned his tired old head slightly to the right 

as if he knew what the tired old man had said 

but was unsure as to why he had said it, 

as if he was thinking it all over very carefully, 

as if he knew this was very important 

and deserved a good answer.

The tired old dog had no answer.

"Perhaps if we sit here a little longer, 

something will come to me" 

said the tired old man.

The tired old dog looked at him as if to say,

"That seems reasonable to me."

They both thought about things for a while longer 

and watched the tired old world go by.

The tired old dog had no objection 

to more time in the shade of a tired old tree.

He sighed heavily and put his tired old head

on the cool grass under the tired old tree

and stretched out his tired old dog bones.

"Don't worry, I'll figure something out"

said the tired old man,

and he went back to thinking 

about his tired old problems

that were holding him down 

with the weight of this tired old world.

The tired old dog took a deep breath 

and sighed a long tired sigh 

and looked at the tired old man as if to say, 

"You'll think of something. You always do. 

Let me know when you've got an idea.

I'll be right here."

And the tired old dog took a nap,

because thats what you do 

in the shade of a tired old tree

to escape the heat 

from a tired old sun

on a tired old day

in this tired old world.

Ken Owen    Van Niddy Press   September 2013

The View From Here

have a seat

right here 

next to me,

we'll dream share

as the sun 

fades morning mist

into futures revealed,

our gift of love 

received in reverence,

hearts bound together

forever.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   September 2013