Advice to a Sad Friend

Get a journal. 

Start scribbling. 

Now. 

Do it. 

Keep it with you. 

Look up. 

Look around. 

Be quiet. 

Notice. 

Listen. 

Write it down. 

Document your 
experiences 

for your own posterity

to remind your future self 

what a shitty mess this felt like 

and how 

in the end 

it was nothing more

than a small blip. 

Turn your suffering 

into beauty.

You'll be glad you did

and so will we. 

Chin up, dearest.

-Ken

for j.d.o.

Van Niddy Press   Fall 2016

Eyebrows of a Dog

. . . and it was then that I realized he was my equal. 

He knew it and I knew it, yet there I was, drunk, drinking whiskey and eating bits of salami and cheese and throwing him the occasional morsel like I was Henry the 8th or some shit when really I was just another drunken asshole with a dog who loves him and looks up at you thinking, "Really? Again?" 

George Carlin was right, it's their eyebrows that get you.

(a stream of consciousness while reading 'Post Office' by Bukowski)

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   August 2016

Summer Haiku

The Universe is

experiencing itself

through my consciousness.

Playful cat chasing

summer shadows, unaware

the hawk chases him.

Observing the fly

walk the blades of summer grass,

I feel like a god.

The Journey of Life:

stumbling between two dark holes

alone with reason.

Morning dew lingers

then hangs heavy in the air

spurned by listless clouds.

~~~~

Fat woman snoring

across the aisle, a bad day

to forget headphones.

On awakening,

fat woman eats her Cheetos--

My diet starts today.

Son of Fat Woman:

reeks of smoke, saggy pants, hoody.

We do not judge...much.

Full figured woman

losing gravity's challenge,

I wish her good luck.

-Amtrak, Fremont to Sacramento

 ~~~~

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   Summer 2016

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