April Haiku

Gendai Haiku

The moon and I

Contemplate each other

Behind curtains and clouds

Mountains step into dark silhouette

Prepare to guard the night sky

And offer the moon safe passage---

                                       Sunset

Squawking blackbirds

always so angry---

    If I knew why, I might agree.

        Birds on a wire

bunched closely together      except one.

Pawn, King, or out-of-towner?

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2015

Poets: The Difference

Most poetry

is written by lonely women

with too many cats

or men who drink 

too god dam much but 

offer no repentance

because they've realized

hangovers start their day

with the prerequisite suffering

It is much easier to experience 

the melancholy of the women

than to search for lucid thoughts

from the men

The women are at ease 

when you join them for tea 

and sad reflections at the kitchen table 

while the men make you swim

in a pool of their hopelessness 

where you can't touch the edge

The women live long quiet lives

tending their garden of beautiful memorials

while the men self-immolate with their demons 

and leave us the ashes of "what if".

Being a poet 

is a hell of a thing.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2015

The Mirror

All those years

left their mark

lines, east and west

telling your story

without saying a word

All those tears

left their mark

trails, north and south

as they flowed back

to the heart that made them

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2015

Mrs. Oliver's Rules

I bought a book of Mrs. Oliver's Rules,

a list of things last seen in middle school,

so I may know again the things to do,

to make great poetry from word-play stew.

But rules have always been so hard to take,

pentameter a boring subject makes,

I now remember why in school I slept,

I hold no place where silly rules are kept.

I have no horse, no darkened woods of snow,

Just me, my iPad, nowhere else to go.

I'm certain that his horse did think it queer,

to force pentameter on gentle ears.

I'm sure to some these prove most useful tools,

but I shall be no chef of rhythmic gruel,

I’ll carry on the creed of fools unschooled:

To hell with rules.

for Eric

written while reading Mary Oliver's "Poetry Handbook" and Charles Bukowski's "The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills"

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   March 2015

March Haiku

     Curious spring moon

wakes me with a question,

   "not anymore"---my answer.

         My busy mind

was writing you a love poem 

   while I slept---gone now.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   March 2015

The Cycle

I sought.

I found.

I battled.

I won.

I had.

I lost.

I cried.

I hurt.

I died.

I rose.

I learned.

I left.

I live.

I feel.

I dream.

I seek.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   February 2015

Messages and Commentary

I dreamed

a message:

"She's gone to find peace"

When I woke

my mind quickly added:

"on her own terms"

You might imagine

my concern when I realized 

I was receiving

messages and commentary

from beyond and within

all before 6:00a.m.

Today I will be calling

all my "she's"

to make sure 

everyone is still here.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   February 2015