Questions: A Collection, Volume I

Do the trees 

give voice to the wind,

or does the wind 

give voice to the trees?

If rain falls back to the ocean,

are clouds held accountable 

for dereliction of duty

or do they carry immunity 

under the Law of Universal timing?

If you don't return the doctor's call

when he requests an audience,

are you tempting fate 

to stop and take notice

or just refusing to give it 

your seat on the bus?

Should I be concerned 

that drive-thru trash 

dumped on our streets 

by 3:00am drunks 

bothers me more 

than anything said or done

in Moscow or Washington, D.C.?

Since traffic 

has always been getting worse,

at some point will it stop completely 

so that we have to abandon our cars 

and walk home?

Am I the only one 

that thinks having 

the right book mark

for the right book

is important?

Do you feel the wonder 

of Universal kismet 

when a song ends 

just as you pull into 

your parking space?

Have you noticed 

that people saying

"Long story short"

can pop your 

private day dream

like a balloon?

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   May 2017

A Great Secret

I remember

long ago

a friend told me

     Turn your 

     suffering

     into beauty

and I thought 

at the time

she had revealed to me 

a great secret

Now

I'm wondering 

if it was a spell

that I'll never break.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2017

You, Quotable You

Tonight 

under a moon all alone 

in a starless sky

You and I

held each other up

by listening 

waiting quietly for our turn

to tell the same old stories

of love unrequited.

     All roads 

     seem to lead 

     back to them.

     Well, 

     fuck them anyway

     (our usual consensus).

Then 

I paused 

wondering

     how is it we could see the moon

     while ancient star light couldn't make its way

     through a haze of city lights on a clear night.

No answer came shining 

through the haze

of our cocktails 

but when you said

"...anyway, then I realized you can't 

fuck away the heartache"

I knew I should just 

be quiet and pay attention 

because we had just entered 

that part of our evening

where everything you say

is quotable.

April 29, 2017

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press

From The Estate of Mrs. Banks

I bought a book of

Japanese haiku poetry

from The Goodwill for $2.00

Basho, Issa, Buson

with their gentle suggestions

of falling blossoms

bamboo shoots and dragonflies 

on pages of beautiful 

wood block paintings

could not compare 
to the inscription on the inside cover

written in wobbly grammar school cursive

that was more lovely than any poem offered

by the ancient masters:

     "To Mrs. Banks:

          I love poems, and I love you.

     Allaire Imhoff, 1998"

My joy at reading 

her heartfelt profession

quickly saddened when I realized

if they had taken more time 

when cleaning out 

Mrs. Banks' book shelf

they would have found 

this simple eulogy 

as testament 

to her teachings 

of love and poetry.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   April 2017

Thank You For Visiting Sacramento

Today
when we hugged
and said our goodbyes
and you said
I love you

I tried but
could not speak

and I realized
my heart had jumped up
in a panic and attempted
to escape before bursting
but got lodged in my throat

and I knew if I spoke
all the words I would make
would sound like tears

so I just smiled
and quickly walked away
so that the last thing
I would give you
would not be my grief.

I love you, too.


Ken Owen      Van Niddy Press     Sacramento, January 2017

The American Experiment

Photograph by Dianne Woods

The American 

Experiment 

is not dead

regardless 

of your despair

or what they tell you.

The American 

Experiment

is not broken

but doing exactly what 

we should expect it to do 

if left attended 

by a select group 

and not the collective 

for whom it should speak. 

The American 

Experiment 

has delivered

painful lessons of neglect 

and made public the shame 

of our complacency. 

The American 

Experiment 

has survived 

great afflictions that have

given us a vision of the perfect 

because we have experienced our imperfections 

and lessons in healing 

because we have suffered 

and caused great suffering.

The American 

Experiment 

grants no immunity 

to the righteously indignant

who deny their guilt

and cast blame upon their neighbors.

The American 

Experiment 

sings 

the song of the Body Politic 

written with the sound of voices

complicit in their silence.

The American 

Experiment 

pauses at all crossroads

as we determine 

if these are the times that were

or the times that shall be.

Ken Owen    Van Niddy Press   December 2016

Move The Bed

In the room
that I rent
the bed faces
a closet

with full length
mirrors
on each
door

and
for the
life of
me

I cannot think
of a more
disheartening
or torturous way

to begin
and end
each day
than by subjecting
myself
to the review

of what
all those days
of crazy
living
and bad
decisions

have done
to this image
that was
once
beautiful.

Tomorrow

I move
the
bed.


Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   December 2016