Three Stars

We stand in silent awe
Heads tilted, lips slightly parted
As we orbit their perimeter
With envious gazing
Wondering what it must be like
To live in their circle.

Three sister stars
Aligned with unseen tether
Shining through the darkness
Their position fixed and eternal
In a sky that would change
Forever should they dim.

for Angela, Mandi, and Lopa


Ken Owen     Van Niddy Press   August 2016

How the Sun Feels

(On A Day Like Any Other)

On a day like any other

The Sun and I woke together 

and rubbed sleepy clouds 

of morning from our eyes.

Time to face the day, I groaned.

Time to be the day, said the Sun

as it tenderly kissed my cheek 

and sent me on my way.

On a day like any other

I came out at noon to see the Sun 

shouting at ladies under parasols 

and gentlemen in tight collars.

Must you be so stern, I asked.

Must you be so insolent, demand the Sun 

as it stung my cheek with a burning reprimand 

and went on about his business of parching the distant hills.

On a day like any other

I sat facing west and watched the

The Sun look guiltily over its shoulder

as it left for the night.

Thanks for all your hard work, I said.

Thanks for understanding, said the Sun 

as it gently kissed my cheek and painted 

its apology in the clouds.

Ken Owen    Van Niddy Press    June 2016

Us and Them

(Thinking in English)

On my way to work this morning, I stopped at the corner market for a lottery ticket and said good morning to the shopkeeper from Pakistan who was arguing with his wife in Punjabi. He calls me Boss, and I like that, but I know he calls everyone Boss.

After I dropped off my laundry with the quiet Japanese man who owns the dry cleaning business and bows ever so slightly when I arrive and leave, I stopped in to say good morning to the husband and wife from the Philippines who own the train station cafe so we could show each other our latest grandbaby pictures.

On the shuttle to work, I practiced saying "Good Morning" and yelling "You Crazy Fucker!" in Vietnamese at the other drivers with my friend Tien the Shuttle Bus Driver. This makes him smile.

At lunch time, I got something to eat from my friend Andy who runs the cafeteria. Andy is from China, works 6 days a week, 12 hours or more each day, and tells me he has no time to look for a wife. Andy likes the fact that I have a day job and a night job, and whispers to me, "Most Americans won't do that. Good for you!"

On the ride home from work, Tien the Shuttle Driver was having an argument on his phone and driving like he was maneuvering the streets of Ho Chi Minh City at noon, while the two Middle East software programmers sitting behind me were discussing code in Farsi. I asked Tien to drop me off at the corner market so I could buy a bottle of beer from the owner who was now arguing with his son in Punjabi. His son was answering his father in combinations of Punjabi and English.

As I left the corner market, I was thinking in English that perhaps we could all have a ceremony one day to officially abolish the concept of 'us and them' once and for all.

Ken Owen    May 2016

Van Niddy Press 

Flowers of The Battelfield

I dreamed of wild flowers
sacrificed and buried
without ceremony

trampled under foot
by frightened young
farmers-turned-soldiers

and brave captains
shouting great rallying
cries of war

The crushed seeds from
Blue Belles and Buttercups
and Flowering Dogwood

fed with the blood of
patriot causes gave birth to
a new generation of flora

saddened with consciousness
and uneasy with the search
for answers beyond the clouds.


-inspired by "The Civil War" by Ken Burns



Ken Owen   

Van Niddy Press   April 2016

Spring Haiku

Winter / Spring 2016     

     Off in the distance
shouting the time across town--
     the 8:20 train.

           ~~~~~

     The sparrow performed
a precision landing on
     a cactus flower.

           ~~~~~

     The Screeching seagull

answering the train whistle:

     "All clear from up here!"

            ~~~~~

     Let all your footsteps

kiss the earth with gratitude 

     for her patience.

            ~~~~~

     Resting on a cloud

just above the horizon,

     a sleepy spring moon.  

            ~~~~~

     Like kids in the car,

spring clouds barely made the trip

     before they let go.

            ~~~~~

     'Six Days on The Road'

is to Country Music what

     'Misty' is to Jazz.

             ~~~~~

     Who are we to say

of what should and should not be?

     Bow and keep quiet.

              ~~~~~

     Brother mosquito:

in life, annoying; in death,

     fine art on my wall.

             ~~~~~

     Stay with me, lover

watch the creeping moon shadows

     while we catch our breathe.

             ~~~~~

    With marijuana,

decriminalization

     serves the greater good.

-for Trick

             ~~~~~

     In grief I summon

no intermediary 

     to will you my love.

-for the people of Brussels, March 2016

             ~~~~~

     Angry waves reclaimed

the cliffs where we cast our dreams 

     to the horizon.

-for Half Moon Bay and Pacifica, CA, Winter 2016

             ~~~~~

     Spring day, winter day,

then back again, Mother Nature

     struggles to let go.

             ~~~~~

   California spring:

on a bottle of sun screen,

     sticky beads of rain.

           ~~~~~

          Flying overhead,

geese late for breakfast shouting

     "Good Morning Down There!"

           ~~~~~

     Mind the sidewalk snail!

Return to The Now, spare all

     brothers and sisters!

           ~~~~~

     In pale blue moonlight,

whispering breezes rescue

     glistening lovers.

          ~~~~~

     A drunken sailor

demanding everyone sing--

    The howling storm wind.

          ~~~~~

    Running from the rain,

the squirrel has bathed enough

    this blustery day.

          ~~~~~

    Green tea, warm slippers,

I fall asleep listening

    to the Winter storm.

          ~~~~~

    My voice to give you

the joys of my singing heart

    goes mute when you smile.

-North Beach, San Francisco

          ~~~~~

   Prediction of rain

became blue skies, quilted clouds.

    Either way is fine.

          ~~~~~

     Watching in wonder,

flowers along the freeway

     offering their gift.

    Staring straight ahead,

commuters on the freeway

    never see the blossoms.

-Morning commute, Milpitas, CA

          

          ~~~~~~

     My disappointment:

awoke from a flying dream

    earthbound and powerless.

          ~~~~~~

    Kissing tenderly

under a blanket of fog,

    sea and sky make love.

-Amtrak, Fremont to Sacramento 

          ~~~~~~

    Each Spring rain puddle 

circled with golden pollen

    brings tears to the eye.

          ~~~~~~

     "God is dead."  -Nietzsche

"God is dad."    -Mr. S. Freud

     "god is Dog."    -Owen

          ~~~~~~

          

     Workforce Reduction--

office mates yesterday, then

     one box and good-bye.

-Alviso, CA

          ~~~~~~

    Each morning I leave

the dog wondering why I

     gave away our day.

-Morning Commute, 9:15a.m.

          ~~~~~~

     Empty boats pass us

on the river of life when

     loved ones leave too soon.

In memory of Kimberley Kenney

          ~~~~~~

     What power, your vision!

Blissful reverie the cause

     of my silly grin.

          ~~~~~~

     Cowboy hat and boots--

A stranger in The City

    rustling free poems.

-Sunday at The Glen Park Library, 4:30pm

          ~~~~~~

     Old man observing

from the tavern window, dreams

     the old neighborhood.

-Sunday at The Glen Park Station Bar, 5:45pm

          

          ~~~~~~

     Policeman shouting

"Don't Move!" quickly ends the chase     

     on a moon bright night.

-Police action in the neighborhood, Fremont, CA, 12:30a.m.

          ~~~~~~

     Winter storm complete,

satisfied clouds deliver

     the morning rainbow.

         ~~~~~~

     The proposition

of our final certainty

      is beyond question.

         ~~~~~~

     To warm your old bones

Ladies and Gentlemen, Spring!

     Love, February 

         ~~~~~~

    You spit in the face

of our collective knowledge.

     Take your god and go.

-for Hitch

         ~~~~~~

     Yesterday's puddles

bored with their own reflection,

     waiting for the sun.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press    March 2016

The Roadside Cross

                                                 home
                                     made
              roadside  cross   fading artificial flowers
                   altar for the poor            candles
                              por los muertos
                                    to mark
                                    where
                                    the
                                    spirit
                                    broke
                                    free




Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press    January 2016

Most Nights...

Eyes
      open

      Eyes
shut

 no difference

   your
   image

won't leave

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   January 2016