Sweet, Dark Whispers

When there’s evil in the air
A presence foully scented
At first, you likely will not know
When anger is presented

For in the squirming twisted mind
Weakness is all hated
You can give more than your share
But, the greed is never sated

When whispers sweet come from the dark
And scrape a sinister chord
It may be, the time has now
To  use a mighty sword


Ken Goree

Fathers’ Day Gift

My child for this Fathers’ Day
Did buy her pop a gift
Though I guess the thought was sweet
It may just cause a rift

You see she knows her dad quite well
He’d like to solve world problems
But did she have to buy me undies
With Spiderman right on them

Just the other day she asked
“Dad have you worn the shorts?”
I had been holding off, you see
And she was getting out of sorts

So when this morning’s sun did rise
I dressed with some forethought
I put on those Spidey undies
The ones my daughter bought

I went to work without occasion
Hero shorts a’hidden
I tugged and twisted all day long
Those undies weren’t quite fittin’

So when the work day fin’ly ended
My Spidey shorts still worn
I could go workout, or rest
I really was quite torn

Workout won out, today you see
Some some sweat, I do suppose
So I went in to change, you see
Spidey, I did expose

No matter that no one did see
That I wore goofy drawers
I did quickly leave that place
Right out through those front doors


Ken Goree


Yes, my daughter did get me the Spidey shorts for Fathers’ Day.  I’ve always said I wanted to be a superhero.  How many dad’s can say their teenage daughter pays that much attention to what they say?  Sweet isn’t it?  She liked the gym story.  It really did happen.

Disquieted

My daughter saw two dogs today
And became quite troubled
I tried to talk the sight away, but
Her disquiet was redoubled


Ken Goree


I’ll let y’all figure that one out for yourselves.  

A Lady Whispers

The lady whispers
When she is unsure

The lady’s voice rings clear
When she touches life’s flesh

The lady whispers
When toil seems to outweigh gain

The lady’s voice rings clear
When her goal is clear ahead

The lady whispers
When the foot slides back farther than the step

The lady’s voice rings clear
When she hears her children’s laughter

The lady whispers
When on a sunny day, clouds still seem to hang over her

The lady’s voice rings clear
When her life’s passionate work is met

The lady whispers
When the hammer seems to bend rather than strengthen the steel

The lady’s voice rings clear
When the last blemish is washed from her past

Ken Goree

Maiden’s Summer Day

Twirling lock of hair
With eyes that look
Into other places
Maiden’s sisters giggle
At young nothings
Wind laughing along
Through draped
Willow branches

Warm breezes remain
Though clouds paint
Shadows across the sun
Then musical,
Like plucked
Violin strings,
Raindrops play
The pond’s face

The maiden smiles
From her
Other places
Breathes deep
As summer scents,
From  raindrops, rise
To fill her
World

Maiden’s sisters
Scatter, chattering
Before onslaught
Of Summer’s
Drumming thunder
Splitting flashes
Branches whipping
Leaves chasing

The maiden smiles
From this Place
Taken by
Jupiters’ strength,
Possessed by
Tempestas’ power
Maiden thoughts
Cast aside


Ken Goree


I took my lovely daughter to the symphony last night.  This poem began with my unschooled interpretation of Alexander Borodin’s Dance of the Polovtsian Maidens and Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor.  Borodin knew what he was he was doing.  I didn’t know the title of the pieces before I imagined maidens. 

Whispering Branches

Whispering Branches

Whispering branches

Talk softly with their wet leaves

Receiving raindrops

Ken Goree

Irises

Irises

Bright curving petals

Vivid hues, ruffled edges

New summer wonder

Ken Goree

A Little Different

Standing

In the middle
Knowing
I’m a little different
Same shape
So very alike, but
So different
Beautiful
As are others, but
I stand out,
My differences
Let you notice
I shine


Ken Goree

Getting Knifed

I don’t like to feel the knife
A sensation most unpleasant
Separating flesh from flesh
I’d say I’m slightly hesitant

I don’t think I’ll call the doc
I’m pretty sure he’ll say
“It’s time to take the knife to you
Right now, we shouldn’t delay


Ken Goree

Does anyone remember the REALLY old Bill Cosby comedy routine about the time he had a hernia, when he was a kid.  Every time he lifted something heavy his guts would shoot out and knock things over.  He became a neighborhood celebrity, and the kids would have him lift things like manhole covers.  I don’t have a little brother named Russell, but I think I have one of those things that makes your guts shoot out when you lift heavy stuff.  So if I get “knifed,” do you think the doctor will let me watch?

Longest Day of the Year

I wake up and find myself here
High in the Northern Hemisphere
Because of our planet's 23 degree tilt
You would think some of our milk would get spilt
It’s the longest day of the year

I wake up this morning and find myself with you
Have thousands of plans for the things we should do
We’ll first go bike riding, and then to the beach
Marshmallow s’mores, and for stars we will reach
It’s the shortest day of the year.

Ken Goree


I just realized that today is the longest day of the year.  Then I thought about how long some of the days during this last soggy, dark, and cold spring and winter have felt.  It doesn't matter how many hours of sunlight you get in a day.  The more full and better spent in the art of living that a day is, the shorter it seems while you are in it, but the longer, richer, and flavorful it is in our memories.

Rose

When morning dew on rose I find
A happy sigh escapes me
I hope the drops won’t blemish it
A perfect bloom I’d give thee

Pink, the hue of blossom opened
And sweet perfume it shares
As I reach out my hand to you
Forget your troubles and cares


Ken Goree

Let Down

Life
Building up
Pace at high
Crescendo
Moments
Flash by
Characters
Lose depth
Senses overload

Then

The end
And partings
Turn to
Slow empty
Hours
Filling time
With sluggish
Stale
Motions


Ken Goree


Shifting gears from the end of the school year, to summer break is never a pretty process for me.

Iris

Iris

First born

Eclipsing

Developing 

Brothers and

Sisters

Colorful
Joyous Life
Shouting out
Look at me
And feel alive


Ken Goree

Parting

For all the days

Together
I’ve become
More
Taking in
All you give
All you take
All you are
And I am changed


Ken Goree


This is a poem for my class.  Every year, I mourn the loss of my students, my kids.  I feel blessed for every minute we have shared.  I get goose bumps over and over; when a parent told me her son said he was sad that the school year was ending; when I think of the timid girl who came to my class nervous to try because the others might think she wasn’t good enough, but now speaks out and almost as wonderful, brings me flowers; when the boy who came into my class writing illegibly, without punctuation, horrid spelling and unbelievable reversals responded to my question, ”What are you go to tell your next year’s teacher is your best subject?” and he said, “I am really good writer.”  I had to do the, “Dang I got something in my eye” thing.  

June Mist

Such a lovely surprise
Mists filling the valley
Drifting amongst trees
Cooling the morning
Signaling a brilliant day
Awakening slowly on
Summer’s tilt


Ken Goree


Yesterday, I was surprised to walk out and find a light fog filling my neighborhood.  I guess it is to be expected after such a cool wet spring.  

The New Deal

I’ve been thinking of a deal

That involves a bit of work
Write a story every week
A challenge I daren’t shirk

Seemed a good idea just when
It popped into my mind
Quite a weighty task I deem
But the fortitude I’ll find

I’ve a few fun tales to tell
The plots I will not spoil
Reconstructing truth to fiction
I’ll love the daily toil

It is a while until I start
I hope you are aquiver
Weekly wonders of the pen
I’ll try hard to deliver


Ken Goree


Okay, so now my poems have devolved into jingles.  This poem addresses my last post, wherein I mentioned my challenge to myself for next year; a short story per week for a year.  Lord, help me.

When I finish ...

I was thinking of my next challenge, for when I finish this "Year of Poetry." How about a "Year of Short Stories?"  I want to be realistic, though.  I was considering one per week.  They would be stories that I have written, in keeping with the spirit of this poetry blog, but I would probably rely a little more on some that I have written already, and some that I write between now and December 31st.  I think to be realistic, I can't possibly write a new one every week next year, and still have them be entertaining.

In my short stories I tend to fall back on humor, but throw in travel stories and, dare I say it, romance.

That new project is still in the contemplation phase, but I think I might go for it.

Hammer

Sparks
Flying sparks
And splattering fire
As time after time
The hammer, each new hammer
Beats and shapes us into better
Beings
If
We
Survive


Ken Goree


Aren’t we better beings if we survive the pounding of our missteps, and beatings undeserved.  Each time some misfortune strikes and we still answer, “Great,” “Fine,” “Outstanding,” or “Peachy,” when someone says, “How are you?” we continue to polish ourselves into a grander work of art.

Tiny Minds

Over-seasoned and
Calloused souls
Force foul opinions
Grown in spiteful,

~Tiny minds~

Born beautiful and
Innocent of evil
Can be such enchanting and
Wondrous delights


Ken Goree

Like yesterday’s poem, this is a Puente.  Unlike yesterday’s, this one focuses on opposing concepts.

Sweet Endeavor

Such sweet endeavor
Seeking out one
With whom to spend each
Sacred hour and

~ To love~

The hours spent
In honest labor of
Sharing delicious memories
In the making


Ken Goree


This is a Puente.  In this form the center line serves as a bridge between the first stanza and the second.  This center line also serves as the last line of the first stanza and the first line of the second stanza.

Lavender

Lavender flower
Sweet to the eye, and the mind
Shares relaxation


Ken Goree

Gut Check

Gut check
When you
Get Knocked back
Three steps for
Each one
You
Dare
Take

Gut check
When you
Lost another battle
After being strong
And you
Stand to

Fight

Again

Gut check

When you
See certain victory
By use of wicked means
But chose virtue knowing
You'll be beaten
Down

Again

Gut check

When you

Fear another onslaught
Doubt feeds on you
Draining strength
You take one
More
Step

Gut check

When you
Fight for what’s right
With bleak prospect

Because
Someone
Has

To

Ken Goree

Embrace

With this new year

You reconfirm
A wisdom
You have known,
Life is richer
Now by far
With friends and
Happy home

Your spirit and
Your energy
They burst forth
As a blossom
The waves of love
You generate
Will
Never be forgotten

Spirit and Delight
You share
A giving
Heart uncommon
For those who are
Within her heart
A better friend you
Won’t come up on


Ken Goree


This poem is my reflection of my friend.  A person who embraces life and her loved ones, she is an amazing source of joy and strength to those who gather to the light she shines.  I know the scansion is a bit off, but I hope I have captured a little of her considerable spirit.

Two Diamonds

Two diamonds
Mother and daughter
Sparkling and radiant
Elegant and joyous
Each reflecting,
Magnifying,
Enhancing,
The shine
Of one
The fire
Of the other
Precious alone
Priceless
Together


Ken Goree


On a much needed vacation last week, I was introduced to two wonderful ladies.  In every way, this mother and daughter pair was stunning; both of them brilliant, classy, and interesting.  In the midst of their wonderful story-telling and dynamically, spirited debates, I could see the most precious treasure possible.  That precious gem?  They adore each other.  It is the perfect bond that every mother-daughter relationship should ripen into.  

Pictures

Sitting
In quiet
Stillness

Sorting
Through rectangular
Memories

Sobbing
Over yesterdays
Receding

Seeking
To recover
Innocence


Ken Goree

Wow !

Check out the comment (Poem) from our Anonymous Guest Poet, in response to Sunday the 5th's poem.

The Coin

Dynamic warrior
Defending her loyal friend
Dissonant blend of virtues

Feminine partner

Fragile lady trembling
From life’s curves and steep canyons

Ken Goree


We are all made up of opposing blend of character traits.  In some those traits seem incongruous, but make up a much more splendid and interesting human being; two different sides of the same coin.

This poem is a Sedoka, a pair of Katuata, that typically approach the same subject from a different angle.  The Katuata is an unrhymed three-line poem with a 5/7/7 pattern.

Sleepless

When

The night
Won’t let you sleep
Does your heart
Flutter with rabbit’s beat
Your breath
Uneven and shallow?
Does your skin
Seep chill sour sweat
Your mind
Frozen in sour thought?

When

The night
Won’t let you sleep
Does your heart
Gallop with cheetah’s rush,
Your breath
Deep and filling?
Does your skin
Sweat with delighted scent
Your mind
Unleash with delicious visions?

Ken Goree

Speckled

Speckled

Warm, speckled spring earth

Darkening gradually

With falling droplets

Ken Goree

Hope

Hope
Springs eternal
In the land
Of sin
And
Bright
Glittering
Lights


Ken Goree


I’m heading to Vegas, and I thought I might need a reminder

One Life

One
Life lived
Well, and filled
With love and affection
Is worth more than eternity
Filled with power or
A mountain of
Jewels and
Gold


Ken Goree

Another Among

Singing

Sparkling
“See me!”

Slim
Graceful
“Look at me!”

Caring
Charming
“Don’t forget me.”


Ken Goree


Like yesterday’s poem, an over-simplification of a young lady.  She is kind, talented and thoughtful, but I think she also worries about becoming invisible.  When she is engaged with someone she shines, but at those times when she is alone, if only by a few feet, a subtle look of loneliness and worry crosses behind her eyes and creases her brow.