Distant
Mountains
Peaks hidden
Behind veil of mist
Darken from ghostly grey
To soft purple, Turning darker still
As they approach in the lower foothills
Turning to browns then greens
As they reach
The water’s
Edge
Gentle
Wavelets
Pattern the canal
As it spreads out all around
From east to west filling sight
And reflecting the cloud dotted sky
Carrying boats and floating logs
Silently, calling to me
High above on my
Quite tranquil
Perch
Ken Goree
My friend Kelly and I took a road trip today. We had the pleasure of visiting my friend Diana at her wonderful cabin on Hood Canal. I can’t imagine a more magical place. The view from her deck looking out across the water is incredible. The tips of the Olympic Mountains were hidden in the clouds, but we could see the progression of lower and lower hills that were closer to us. The Hood Canal had a slight ripple on its surface, marked occasionally by passing boats, diving birds and here and there the dark slash of a salmon’s fin as it cut through the surface. It is a very peaceful place. Thank you Diana, for your hospitality.
I began this blog in December 2010, as a way to improve my skills as a writing teacher. I started posting the poems on 1/1/11, and I have now completed my year, 365 poems in a row. I have to revise and edit them, now. © 2011 Ken Goree. The new resolution, two short stories per month at http://kens-shorts.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Earning Wings
When on dying
We all earn
A pair of wings
To wear
How you live your
Life till then
Tells which will be your pair
Are you living
In the now,
Thinking only
Of yourself
With scaly, scabrous
Leather wings
Goaded by
Satan, himself
Or
Are you living
In the moment
With kindness
For all you see
With pearly, white,
Bright feathered wings
In heaven’s light, and
Flying free
Ken Goree
This is more about Karma than actual beliefs regarding one religion. I know Karma balances everything and the receivers of bad, most often don’t receive an equivalent balancing good, themselves. However, I’ve seen several situations lately where the person creating bad, got back at least a share of what they gave out.
We all earn
A pair of wings
To wear
How you live your
Life till then
Tells which will be your pair
Are you living
In the now,
Thinking only
Of yourself
With scaly, scabrous
Leather wings
Goaded by
Satan, himself
Or
Are you living
In the moment
With kindness
For all you see
With pearly, white,
Bright feathered wings
In heaven’s light, and
Flying free
Ken Goree
This is more about Karma than actual beliefs regarding one religion. I know Karma balances everything and the receivers of bad, most often don’t receive an equivalent balancing good, themselves. However, I’ve seen several situations lately where the person creating bad, got back at least a share of what they gave out.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Burning Embers
Burning Embers
Like a living thing
Pulsing light, shifting, moving
Radiating warmth
Ken Goree
I was just sitting around a small bon fire with friends. I realized how the warmth of the embers and the flickering shifting arrange and yellow glow of the coals weaves a closeness between people. I usually feel the need to keep conversations going when there is group of people together; silence feels awkward. Around a fire, that changes. Silently watching the dance of light within a camp fire, or even a fireplace fire is not taboo. It is like a shared meditation.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Catching Crabs
There once was a man who caught crabs
To the neighborhood somebody blabs
The word spread ‘round quicker
His friends had to snicker
For these crustaceans he always grabs
Ken Goree
To the neighborhood somebody blabs
The word spread ‘round quicker
His friends had to snicker
For these crustaceans he always grabs
Ken Goree
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Dealing with a Psychopath
Dealing with a psychopath
A hobby I eschew
Even if they chose to stop
There’s nothing they can do
You see they’re driven on their path
A darker inner light
Following a shadowed way
Gives them a delight
Thank God, there are not more of them
Among us in this age
Because they never end their drive
They cannot be assuaged
So if you ever find yourself
In company of one
Don’t plead for better treatment
All you should do is run
Ken Goree
Sorry, about the subject. I just saw an advertisement for Dexter, and it got my mind flowing that direction. This poem could be considered a Didactic poem, since it does a little instructing.
A hobby I eschew
Even if they chose to stop
There’s nothing they can do
You see they’re driven on their path
A darker inner light
Following a shadowed way
Gives them a delight
Thank God, there are not more of them
Among us in this age
Because they never end their drive
They cannot be assuaged
So if you ever find yourself
In company of one
Don’t plead for better treatment
All you should do is run
Ken Goree
Sorry, about the subject. I just saw an advertisement for Dexter, and it got my mind flowing that direction. This poem could be considered a Didactic poem, since it does a little instructing.
Friday, August 26, 2011
My Boy
My boy is at a job again
Started yesterday
He’s working at the carnival
I guess that that’s okay
He isn’t quite a carny
When it goes away
And moves to other places
At my home he’ll stay
Glad to see he’s now employed
Doing work that’s steady
In something that’s financial
For cash he was ready
When to school he’s back again
Learning something new
A jingle in his pocket
Cash from me is through
He says he has the worst job
On his rear he sits
In a clear and hot glass booth
Sells the parking slips
If that is the worst of it
All he does is wait
A story I have for him
Cutting stinky bait
There are so many worse things
That a lad can do
I’ve farmed wheat in Monatana
Drove an old truck too
Yes, my words fall on deaf ears
Rolls his eyes, you see
“Dad, what happened yester-year
Does not count for me.”
I know you other parents
Saw this act before
I did the same thing to my dad
But now, respect him more
Oops, I think I did complain
Really I’m excited
My boy does honest working now
I am much delighted
Ken Goree
Started yesterday
He’s working at the carnival
I guess that that’s okay
He isn’t quite a carny
When it goes away
And moves to other places
At my home he’ll stay
Glad to see he’s now employed
Doing work that’s steady
In something that’s financial
For cash he was ready
When to school he’s back again
Learning something new
A jingle in his pocket
Cash from me is through
He says he has the worst job
On his rear he sits
In a clear and hot glass booth
Sells the parking slips
If that is the worst of it
All he does is wait
A story I have for him
Cutting stinky bait
There are so many worse things
That a lad can do
I’ve farmed wheat in Monatana
Drove an old truck too
Yes, my words fall on deaf ears
Rolls his eyes, you see
“Dad, what happened yester-year
Does not count for me.”
I know you other parents
Saw this act before
I did the same thing to my dad
But now, respect him more
Oops, I think I did complain
Really I’m excited
My boy does honest working now
I am much delighted
Ken Goree
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Let Me Eat
Yes, my cute little lady
Daddy loves you true
Tough decisions are my job
Something I can do
Yes, you have a different thought
A fantastic plan
I think it’s a bad idea
I’ll stop it, ‘cause I can
Like I said, I’ll pick you up
Please don’t call again
I be there sharp at seven
No, I didn’t say ten
I sit here with my two friends
Try to eat my crepe
I’m sure I said at seven
No, NO, not at eight!
I just tried to take a bite
My phone? Please, not true!
I’m really getting hungry
Not so good for you
I guess that I’ll not get to eat
You have made this fix
You have made me change my mind
I’ll be there at six
Ken Goree
Daddy loves you true
Tough decisions are my job
Something I can do
Yes, you have a different thought
A fantastic plan
I think it’s a bad idea
I’ll stop it, ‘cause I can
Like I said, I’ll pick you up
Please don’t call again
I be there sharp at seven
No, I didn’t say ten
I sit here with my two friends
Try to eat my crepe
I’m sure I said at seven
No, NO, not at eight!
I just tried to take a bite
My phone? Please, not true!
I’m really getting hungry
Not so good for you
I guess that I’ll not get to eat
You have made this fix
You have made me change my mind
I’ll be there at six
Ken Goree
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Okay, Are We Done?
I thought her Mohawked friend
Was just a little glitch
He's just the tip of the iceberg
She's acting like a witch
I dropped her at a party
Another girl's birthday
“I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock
Beyond that time, no play"
“Why” is a word, before today
I thought was cool and curious
Now, if I hear it one more time
I think I will get furious
I never changed my mind before
To each decision I stick
"Can’t you see the deal is done?
Think, come on, let it click!"
We’ve been home an hour now
And still I hear that word
"You can't be serious, still you’re asking?"
This is just absurd!
"Cold shoulder? That’s your worst?"
Thank God there's finally silence
Don't tell her that I like this
Or she might resort to violence
When morning comes, I'm hoping
Peace will reign again
I’ll be her hero father
Just like I've always been
Ken Goree
Was just a little glitch
He's just the tip of the iceberg
She's acting like a witch
I dropped her at a party
Another girl's birthday
“I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock
Beyond that time, no play"
“Why” is a word, before today
I thought was cool and curious
Now, if I hear it one more time
I think I will get furious
I never changed my mind before
To each decision I stick
"Can’t you see the deal is done?
Think, come on, let it click!"
We’ve been home an hour now
And still I hear that word
"You can't be serious, still you’re asking?"
This is just absurd!
"Cold shoulder? That’s your worst?"
Thank God there's finally silence
Don't tell her that I like this
Or she might resort to violence
When morning comes, I'm hoping
Peace will reign again
I’ll be her hero father
Just like I've always been
Ken Goree
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
My Daughter’s Protector
My daughter has some friends
They may be stopping by
I think I’ll grab my shotgun
As I know one is a guy
Oh crap, he has a Mohawk
This just does not seem right
He has a vicious smirk
This might end with a fight
I pulled out the gun oil
An old man needs his fun
And nothing as impressive
As a pumping 12 gauge gun
All of a funny sudden
As if I’d been a planner
This six-foot punked out teen
Showed more than just one manner
He wasn’t such a bad guy
But a father has to show
A frightening, mean façade:
“Through you a hole I’ll blow.”
We all sat for movies
We saw Rocky’s Picture Show
But when I got too drowsy
It was time for him to go
The boy did call me, Sir
Perhaps I'll change my mind
I may not need to hurt him
He's quirky - just my kind
However, I'm still thinking
His haircut needs to go
Lots of dads said that of me
A long, long time ago
Like I said before
Not that bad a guy
I think my jury’s out
He may not need to die
Ken Goree
They may be stopping by
I think I’ll grab my shotgun
As I know one is a guy
Oh crap, he has a Mohawk
This just does not seem right
He has a vicious smirk
This might end with a fight
I pulled out the gun oil
An old man needs his fun
And nothing as impressive
As a pumping 12 gauge gun
All of a funny sudden
As if I’d been a planner
This six-foot punked out teen
Showed more than just one manner
He wasn’t such a bad guy
But a father has to show
A frightening, mean façade:
“Through you a hole I’ll blow.”
We all sat for movies
We saw Rocky’s Picture Show
But when I got too drowsy
It was time for him to go
The boy did call me, Sir
Perhaps I'll change my mind
I may not need to hurt him
He's quirky - just my kind
However, I'm still thinking
His haircut needs to go
Lots of dads said that of me
A long, long time ago
Like I said before
Not that bad a guy
I think my jury’s out
He may not need to die
Ken Goree
Monday, August 22, 2011
Restless
Trapped.
Quiet roar
Of thick rain
Steaming up
From brittle
Baked stems
And dry
Cracked earth
Suffocating
Homebound
Hands
And
Feet
Ken Goree
Quiet roar
Of thick rain
Steaming up
From brittle
Baked stems
And dry
Cracked earth
Suffocating
Homebound
Hands
And
Feet
Ken Goree
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Marina Dark
Rocking
To wakefulness
Dancing gold and
Silver reflections on ceiling
Dewdrops having settle through window
Wet my cheek, thrilling early rising
Stepping
Softly stepping
To not disturb
Companions at my leaving
Slipping on hard worked deck
Breathing in the crisp early morning
Shining
Dock lights
Mirrored off Smooth
Dark and friendly water
Off still sleeping fishermen’s marina
Before morning has chosen to break
Coughing
Seal breaks
Gently, water’s glass
Pressing arced ripples out
To caress slick boat sides
Before man’s day, on docks begins
Treading
Lightly on
Grey wooden planks
So not to cover
Each solemn, morning dock sound
And know the marina, before leaving
Ken Goree
To wakefulness
Dancing gold and
Silver reflections on ceiling
Dewdrops having settle through window
Wet my cheek, thrilling early rising
Stepping
Softly stepping
To not disturb
Companions at my leaving
Slipping on hard worked deck
Breathing in the crisp early morning
Shining
Dock lights
Mirrored off Smooth
Dark and friendly water
Off still sleeping fishermen’s marina
Before morning has chosen to break
Coughing
Seal breaks
Gently, water’s glass
Pressing arced ripples out
To caress slick boat sides
Before man’s day, on docks begins
Treading
Lightly on
Grey wooden planks
So not to cover
Each solemn, morning dock sound
And know the marina, before leaving
Ken Goree
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Lost Time
Somehow think I lost my time
Or at least I’ve lost its track
It’s not good to lose it
You can’t ever get it back
You see I thought this day I’m on
Wasn’t this, but yesterday
Sometimes I’m my worst enemy
And get in my own way
So when I thought my work was done
Then figured out that wasn’t true
I’ve caught that time up just in time
And wrote my poem for you
Ken Goree
Or at least I’ve lost its track
It’s not good to lose it
You can’t ever get it back
You see I thought this day I’m on
Wasn’t this, but yesterday
Sometimes I’m my worst enemy
And get in my own way
So when I thought my work was done
Then figured out that wasn’t true
I’ve caught that time up just in time
And wrote my poem for you
Ken Goree
Friday, August 19, 2011
I’m Just a Boy with My Thing
There's always just a little thing
I think all must know
I’m just a little boy inside
Nothing else can one bestow
On summer days, with a plaything
Of age there is no limit
It doesn’t matter what the thing
A spider, frog, or cricket
Sometimes it is a precious thing
A gift from God above
Other times a curse like when
Understanding a thing like love
Trying to define this thing
Is sadly beyond my means
Just when I think I have it
I’ve mussed it up, it seems
A happy and a joyous thing
From whence all good does come
A many splendored thing is love
You should try it, My Good Chum
But then there is a “girl thing”
Which I try to understand
Sometimes I think I’ve got it
A thing of a different brand
Sadly though their special thing
Of charm, and grace, and soul
I wish I had more of it
But flounder at my goal
Ladies do all know these things
Your hearts sing forth with feeling
Emotionally you seem to know
The power of love’s healing
Here I am, with my “boy thing”
About that once more I’m torn
Again, could be, I’ve screwed love up
I’m feeling quite forlorn
Ken Goree
I think all must know
I’m just a little boy inside
Nothing else can one bestow
On summer days, with a plaything
Of age there is no limit
It doesn’t matter what the thing
A spider, frog, or cricket
Sometimes it is a precious thing
A gift from God above
Other times a curse like when
Understanding a thing like love
Trying to define this thing
Is sadly beyond my means
Just when I think I have it
I’ve mussed it up, it seems
A happy and a joyous thing
From whence all good does come
A many splendored thing is love
You should try it, My Good Chum
But then there is a “girl thing”
Which I try to understand
Sometimes I think I’ve got it
A thing of a different brand
Sadly though their special thing
Of charm, and grace, and soul
I wish I had more of it
But flounder at my goal
Ladies do all know these things
Your hearts sing forth with feeling
Emotionally you seem to know
The power of love’s healing
Here I am, with my “boy thing”
About that once more I’m torn
Again, could be, I’ve screwed love up
I’m feeling quite forlorn
Ken Goree
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Clean White Sheets
Waking
Disconnected
Unable to connect
Jigsaw thoughts
Throbbing aches
Drugged dulled shock
At recognition
Of Clean
White
Hospital
Sheets
Ken Goree
Disconnected
Unable to connect
Jigsaw thoughts
Throbbing aches
Drugged dulled shock
At recognition
Of Clean
White
Hospital
Sheets
Ken Goree
Reb Sighting
On my way to the gym this morning, I saw Reb and his family (check Jan 2nd's post if you weren't around when I first saw them). I had been telling myself that if I saw them again, I would stop and ask for a picture of Reb in his wagon. When I saw them, though, I got shy ... I know, me, shy? I will go to the gym at the same time each day so that I will hopefully see them again, and hopefully stop and chat with them. A couple months ago I noticed they had a new puppy. It was much bigger, today.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Night Journey
The burn
In stomach’s pit
Of shortened sleep
Rising to darkness
Setting wheels
On pavement
Adventuring
In to the
Night
Dashboard glow,
Rough friction
Of rubber on asphalt, and
Disembodied
Radio voices
Are the company
Kept
On a dark
Night
Destination awaits
Ahead, calling out
God speed, be careful
Be smart
Be safe
In the cloaking
Blackness, of the
Cool summer
Night
Ken Goree
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve love a roadtrip, but none so much as a roadtrip that begins in the deepest part of the night. An ordinary trip to Grandma’s house turns into a mysterious adventure. Trees looming out of the darkness, or on really special occasions, looming from the misty darkness and take on some dangerous malicious intent. Ghostly green faces that would like have seemed commonplace during the light of day, take on the strange light and shadow common among movie ghouls and zombies.
In stomach’s pit
Of shortened sleep
Rising to darkness
Setting wheels
On pavement
Adventuring
In to the
Night
Dashboard glow,
Rough friction
Of rubber on asphalt, and
Disembodied
Radio voices
Are the company
Kept
On a dark
Night
Destination awaits
Ahead, calling out
God speed, be careful
Be smart
Be safe
In the cloaking
Blackness, of the
Cool summer
Night
Ken Goree
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve love a roadtrip, but none so much as a roadtrip that begins in the deepest part of the night. An ordinary trip to Grandma’s house turns into a mysterious adventure. Trees looming out of the darkness, or on really special occasions, looming from the misty darkness and take on some dangerous malicious intent. Ghostly green faces that would like have seemed commonplace during the light of day, take on the strange light and shadow common among movie ghouls and zombies.
My own children used to know the excitement of a 3am start to a roadtrip, but as they dig deeper into their teens they seem to be losing the knowledge of that magic. I wonder, did I temporarily lose it when I was a teen? I hope so, so that they have a chance to regain that imagination when they make it into their adult years.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The Catch
Anticipation
Of the catch
Planning
Of the feast
Organization
Of the tools
Internalizing
Of the intent
Thanking
For the fish
Ken Goree
I am getting ready for salmon fishing with my good friend, Steve Davidson. We should be on the water in a couple of hours from now.
We will be fishing near the mouth of the Columbia River; a place I have fished since I was a child. I have memories of waking in the dark of night, so we could meet up at 3:00 for breakfast with my Uncle Bob, and Cousin Jeff. We would arrive at 3:00, as planned, knowing that it would be another hour before my cousin and uncle arrived. They were always late, without exception. We would always arrive on time, without exception. I asked my dad why we didn’t just get that extra hour of sleep and he would always say, “We are men of our word, Ken. We are going to keep it that way.” My dad is a pretty damn good guy. Then he would sometimes point out, “Just think how exciting it would be if they actually made it here on time, once. Would you want to miss that? It is probably less likely to happen than aliens arriving in our lifetimes.”
Of the catch
Planning
Of the feast
Organization
Of the tools
Internalizing
Of the intent
Thanking
For the fish
Ken Goree
I am getting ready for salmon fishing with my good friend, Steve Davidson. We should be on the water in a couple of hours from now.
We will be fishing near the mouth of the Columbia River; a place I have fished since I was a child. I have memories of waking in the dark of night, so we could meet up at 3:00 for breakfast with my Uncle Bob, and Cousin Jeff. We would arrive at 3:00, as planned, knowing that it would be another hour before my cousin and uncle arrived. They were always late, without exception. We would always arrive on time, without exception. I asked my dad why we didn’t just get that extra hour of sleep and he would always say, “We are men of our word, Ken. We are going to keep it that way.” My dad is a pretty damn good guy. Then he would sometimes point out, “Just think how exciting it would be if they actually made it here on time, once. Would you want to miss that? It is probably less likely to happen than aliens arriving in our lifetimes.”
Monday, August 15, 2011
Lesson Learned?
I thought I learned my lesson
But that story just ain’t so
Keeping up my fitness
Quite certain’s the way to go
And sure enough, when checking
That’s right, again I find
About heading to the gym
I left routine behind
So today I made myself
After a long rebuke
I drug my but back to the gym
Worked hard and almost puked
I think again I learned my lesson
I’ll keep my body prime
Until I have to, once again
Learn my lesson one more time
Ken Goree
I actually have been going to the gym, and doing other exercise, lately. For some reason today’s workout seemed tougher than it should have. Can I blame the weather, or allergies? I think it may just be one of those days, that I should have spent enjoying the doldrums.
But that story just ain’t so
Keeping up my fitness
Quite certain’s the way to go
And sure enough, when checking
That’s right, again I find
About heading to the gym
I left routine behind
So today I made myself
After a long rebuke
I drug my but back to the gym
Worked hard and almost puked
I think again I learned my lesson
I’ll keep my body prime
Until I have to, once again
Learn my lesson one more time
Ken Goree
I actually have been going to the gym, and doing other exercise, lately. For some reason today’s workout seemed tougher than it should have. Can I blame the weather, or allergies? I think it may just be one of those days, that I should have spent enjoying the doldrums.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Doldrums’ Day
Paralyzed afternoon
Sound drops
From air
Without will
To reach out
Park swing
Hangs still
in air
Empty lawns
Couple whispers
Blank
Bright gray sky
Above air
Gives light
But no life
Ken Goree
Sound drops
From air
Without will
To reach out
Park swing
Hangs still
in air
Empty lawns
Couple whispers
Blank
Bright gray sky
Above air
Gives light
But no life
Ken Goree
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Beautician
I once knew a stunning beautician
Who fell for the local mortician
He said in her ear
“I was thinking, my dear,
My clients could use your addition
Ken Goree
Who fell for the local mortician
He said in her ear
“I was thinking, my dear,
My clients could use your addition
Ken Goree
Friday, August 12, 2011
Unclean
Unclean
Chaink, chaink, chaink
Sound vibrates
As each boot
Steps
Tink, tink, tink
As pressure filled hose
Pendulums against
Ladder
Fyoosht, fyoosht, fyoosht
As violent vapors
Burst out of
Grip
Zipht, zipht, zipht
As billowing blast
Strips away time’s
Grime
Clean
Ken Goree
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Pant
Ragged, panting companion
Pelting, rocket-like
Across green turf
With happy abandon
Pounding canine heart
Beats wildly
Within furry ribcage
With dizzying delight
Seeking tree shade
Rushing wet breaths
Golden fuzzy plaything
Between outstretched paws
Ken Goree
My wonderful companion, Orion, loves to jog down the hill to the nearest park. When we get there I throw a tennis ball for him. He will run and run until I worry that his giant golden heart might burst. I’ll include a picture soon.
Pelting, rocket-like
Across green turf
With happy abandon
Pounding canine heart
Beats wildly
Within furry ribcage
With dizzying delight
Seeking tree shade
Rushing wet breaths
Golden fuzzy plaything
Between outstretched paws
Ken Goree
My wonderful companion, Orion, loves to jog down the hill to the nearest park. When we get there I throw a tennis ball for him. He will run and run until I worry that his giant golden heart might burst. I’ll include a picture soon.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The book is finished!!!
The first of the poetry books is finished and up for sale!
It is called,
Glass, volume I: One-quarter Full
There are three ways to buy it, if you are interested.
1) Ask me to bring you a copy, next time I see you. I will sell it to you at a discount ($10.00). With this option, you get to see me shyly, and feeling awkward, hand it over and write something sweet about how your were likely the inspiration for one or more poems in it.
2) Buy it from the company I published it through, at: https://www.createspace.com/3593993
3) Buy it from Amazon, at:
http://www.amazon.com/Glass-I-One-quarter-Full-1/dp/1461166659/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1313025021&sr=8-1
Thank you, everyone who has taken the time to drop by this blog and read my work. I greatly appreciate it. So far there have been around 3200 visits to the blog.
PS - Buying the book directly from me will do the most to make me smile and brighten my day.
PPS - Buying it through Createspace will do the most to help me pay my bills.
It is called,
Glass, volume I: One-quarter Full
There are three ways to buy it, if you are interested.
1) Ask me to bring you a copy, next time I see you. I will sell it to you at a discount ($10.00). With this option, you get to see me shyly, and feeling awkward, hand it over and write something sweet about how your were likely the inspiration for one or more poems in it.
2) Buy it from the company I published it through, at: https://www.createspace.com/3593993
3) Buy it from Amazon, at:
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Thank you, everyone who has taken the time to drop by this blog and read my work. I greatly appreciate it. So far there have been around 3200 visits to the blog.
PS - Buying the book directly from me will do the most to make me smile and brighten my day.
PPS - Buying it through Createspace will do the most to help me pay my bills.
Firefighter
There once was a girl firefighter
Who liked to play with her lighter
She then had a thought
Said, “Look guys, I’m hot”
They agreed, and that did much delight her
Ken Goree
Who liked to play with her lighter
She then had a thought
Said, “Look guys, I’m hot”
They agreed, and that did much delight her
Ken Goree
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
My Stream
Step over
Gray, twisted, steel cable
Or crawl under
Rabbit scampers
On trail ahead
Escaping
Late for nothing
Grass seed drifts
In through lace holes
Encroaching blackberry
Snags, socks, skin, shorts
And is kicked away
Narrowing path
Closes in
Quiet “plurp” as
Bullfrog leaps
From pond lily
In the sun
Path twists
Around and over
Root and trunk
As trail dirt
Darkens
In deepening
Shadow
Stream voice
Calls out a cool
Liquid beckoning
As footsteps
Quicken in the
Choking summer heat
Frayed, bleached rope
Hangs still
Over deep, clear
Green eddying pool
Lapping, tickling
Brown sandstone bank
Staring to heaven
Shoulder blades settling
Into sand
As friendly water
Sings away cares
Of life
Ken Goree
Gray, twisted, steel cable
Or crawl under
Rabbit scampers
On trail ahead
Escaping
Late for nothing
Grass seed drifts
In through lace holes
Encroaching blackberry
Snags, socks, skin, shorts
And is kicked away
Narrowing path
Closes in
Quiet “plurp” as
Bullfrog leaps
From pond lily
In the sun
Path twists
Around and over
Root and trunk
As trail dirt
Darkens
In deepening
Shadow
Stream voice
Calls out a cool
Liquid beckoning
As footsteps
Quicken in the
Choking summer heat
Frayed, bleached rope
Hangs still
Over deep, clear
Green eddying pool
Lapping, tickling
Brown sandstone bank
Staring to heaven
Shoulder blades settling
Into sand
As friendly water
Sings away cares
Of life
Ken Goree
Monday, August 8, 2011
Patches
“This boat is such a deal!”
That is what he thought
Though yet to be discovered,
The trouble he had bought
He needed a dingy for his ship
An inflatable, he sought
Patches was the name she earned
No bargain, he was taught
Ken Goree
True story … not that it sounded like a lie. My Lifelong Buddy, who honestly is “The King” of finding a great deal, bought an inflatable “Zodiak style” boat on Craigslist. He got a great price and thought he could fix an minor leaks that he was sure that it probably had. Three months later and countless hours put in trying to locate and fix the leaks and Patches still gets quite saggy in just one night. The poor man is getting endless teasing about it. I, for one, have finally stopped pointing out all of those “funny looking puffy boats,” at the marina. If you Bump into him, make sure you don’t tease him about it.
That is what he thought
Though yet to be discovered,
The trouble he had bought
He needed a dingy for his ship
An inflatable, he sought
Patches was the name she earned
No bargain, he was taught
Ken Goree
True story … not that it sounded like a lie. My Lifelong Buddy, who honestly is “The King” of finding a great deal, bought an inflatable “Zodiak style” boat on Craigslist. He got a great price and thought he could fix an minor leaks that he was sure that it probably had. Three months later and countless hours put in trying to locate and fix the leaks and Patches still gets quite saggy in just one night. The poor man is getting endless teasing about it. I, for one, have finally stopped pointing out all of those “funny looking puffy boats,” at the marina. If you Bump into him, make sure you don’t tease him about it.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Captain Randolf
I got this here
Disability
Thank Gōsh It don’t hurt my
Ability
To plug in my stinkin’
Utility
With quite a bit o’
Facility
I find I don’t mind my thumb
A’shortened
Though I used to consider it
Importan’
It comes in kinda’ handy when
Cavortin’
Though the ladies still my advances are
A thwartin’
I spend my day on my sailboat
A’floatin’
Though with the motor shot where I’ll land there’s
No knowin’
Hope the Coast Guard will give me
A tow in
If not, to the bottom I’ll
Be goin’
I just had me a great big
Epiphany
The same thing my mom always would
Plea to me
If I put a few less beers
In to me
When coming in, two docks I
Wouldn’t see
Once again I returned
Quite alive
Although I was much drunk
By five
From another six pack I will strive
I’m sure for more days
I’ll survive
Ken Goree
I met a very nice gentleman on the marina docks this afternoon. He lives aboard a small-ish sailboat. He is friendly, outgoing and loves to chat-up anyone he meets. In the space of five minutes he drank several large cans of beer that he had just picked up at the harbor convenience store; explained the wonderful bargain his boat had been; and recapped a story that apparently repeats itself on a fairly regular basis. In this story, his boat engine always dies, but he is able to drift to his destination. On the return journey he gets another boat to tow him a quarter mile from shore and then has the coast guard tow him back to the marina. He is Vietnam veteran, with a thumb he gave for his country. I liked his friendliness, a lot. He is at peace with life, and has found a place that is comforting and welcoming, to him.
Disability
Thank Gōsh It don’t hurt my
Ability
To plug in my stinkin’
Utility
With quite a bit o’
Facility
I find I don’t mind my thumb
A’shortened
Though I used to consider it
Importan’
It comes in kinda’ handy when
Cavortin’
Though the ladies still my advances are
A thwartin’
I spend my day on my sailboat
A’floatin’
Though with the motor shot where I’ll land there’s
No knowin’
Hope the Coast Guard will give me
A tow in
If not, to the bottom I’ll
Be goin’
I just had me a great big
Epiphany
The same thing my mom always would
Plea to me
If I put a few less beers
In to me
When coming in, two docks I
Wouldn’t see
Once again I returned
Quite alive
Although I was much drunk
By five
From another six pack I will strive
I’m sure for more days
I’ll survive
Ken Goree
I met a very nice gentleman on the marina docks this afternoon. He lives aboard a small-ish sailboat. He is friendly, outgoing and loves to chat-up anyone he meets. In the space of five minutes he drank several large cans of beer that he had just picked up at the harbor convenience store; explained the wonderful bargain his boat had been; and recapped a story that apparently repeats itself on a fairly regular basis. In this story, his boat engine always dies, but he is able to drift to his destination. On the return journey he gets another boat to tow him a quarter mile from shore and then has the coast guard tow him back to the marina. He is Vietnam veteran, with a thumb he gave for his country. I liked his friendliness, a lot. He is at peace with life, and has found a place that is comforting and welcoming, to him.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Echoes
Lonesome
Echoes
Where once had been
Laughter
Tears
Friends
Love
Frightened
Echoes
Where now there are
Alleys
Cement
dumpsters
Stink
Joyous
Echoes
Where there now are
Mountains
Valleys
Flowers
Streams
Delighted
Echoes
Where there are
Friends
Family
Laughter
Love
Ken Goree
Echoes
Where once had been
Laughter
Tears
Friends
Love
Frightened
Echoes
Where now there are
Alleys
Cement
dumpsters
Stink
Joyous
Echoes
Where there now are
Mountains
Valleys
Flowers
Streams
Delighted
Echoes
Where there are
Friends
Family
Laughter
Love
Ken Goree
Friday, August 5, 2011
What did My Doggie Eat?
What did my doggie eat
I’m sad, I’m sure he liked it
Like many things he chews on
He swallowed it lickity-split
He snuck into the woods, you see
Far from my watchful sight
What would surely turn my stomach
Was much to his delight
When fine’ly he returned to me
He’d found a dreaded morsel
I’m sure he found the time to gulp
A tidbit mighty fell
Since afternoon, my pretty pup
He wouldn’t even chew
All he did was lie around
There’s nothing he would do
I had a worried feeling
That I knew what was up
That rotting little tidbit
Was going to come up
When evening came, however
Of vomit, was no sign
Could I have been so wrong?
I guess he might be fine
And though his stomach settled
Was not so with his bowel
He released from deep within
A smell, much more than foul
Ken Goree
I’m sad, I’m sure he liked it
Like many things he chews on
He swallowed it lickity-split
He snuck into the woods, you see
Far from my watchful sight
What would surely turn my stomach
Was much to his delight
When fine’ly he returned to me
He’d found a dreaded morsel
I’m sure he found the time to gulp
A tidbit mighty fell
Since afternoon, my pretty pup
He wouldn’t even chew
All he did was lie around
There’s nothing he would do
I had a worried feeling
That I knew what was up
That rotting little tidbit
Was going to come up
When evening came, however
Of vomit, was no sign
Could I have been so wrong?
I guess he might be fine
And though his stomach settled
Was not so with his bowel
He released from deep within
A smell, much more than foul
Ken Goree
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Tide of Smarts
Just today, my friend did say
No … to accuse me he did start
Of my not using precious years
Of accumulated smarts
“Oh, My Friend,” I told him
How sad you do not know
Those blessed smarts you speak about
Already have started to go
Much like the tide, you see they are
Built when logic we did not heed
Our tide of smarts long years do rise
But now, they do recede
Quite sure you will dispute this, but
I know this fact is true
Last night, our ladies, I saw they were
Quite sad, while watching us two
Ken Goree
For you, Mr. Hill.
No … to accuse me he did start
Of my not using precious years
Of accumulated smarts
“Oh, My Friend,” I told him
How sad you do not know
Those blessed smarts you speak about
Already have started to go
Much like the tide, you see they are
Built when logic we did not heed
Our tide of smarts long years do rise
But now, they do recede
Quite sure you will dispute this, but
I know this fact is true
Last night, our ladies, I saw they were
Quite sad, while watching us two
Ken Goree
For you, Mr. Hill.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Between
Never is there quite the time
To tell you how I feel
A fire when together
Adore your sweet appeal
Though when apart, I long think
Of gentle, so light touch
Diamond light within your eye
To me you give so much
Your bright, and joyful laughter
Rings precious in my ears
I hope to often hear it
Though many blessed years
Finding that I see you smile
Sometimes with thoughts risqué
I wouldn’t want to change that
We’re blessed to share that way
I often sit alone to ponder
How felicitous we met
I wish the wait to end, or
Find patience so not to fret
During times when We can’t be
My thoughts quite often seem
To fix your face within my mind
Across space that is between
Ken Goree
To tell you how I feel
A fire when together
Adore your sweet appeal
Though when apart, I long think
Of gentle, so light touch
Diamond light within your eye
To me you give so much
Your bright, and joyful laughter
Rings precious in my ears
I hope to often hear it
Though many blessed years
Finding that I see you smile
Sometimes with thoughts risqué
I wouldn’t want to change that
We’re blessed to share that way
I often sit alone to ponder
How felicitous we met
I wish the wait to end, or
Find patience so not to fret
During times when We can’t be
My thoughts quite often seem
To fix your face within my mind
Across space that is between
Ken Goree
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
First Book!!!
The first book from this poetry blog, should be available online in the next couple of days. I'll include a link to it when it is ready.
Ken
Ken
Fort
Long ago
By time and space
While playing with my friends
School was out
For woods we ran
To achieve our playful ends
Our ideas
For fun did flow
We'd make ourselves a fort
But the wood
We did not have
Our great plan we might abort
Then the scraps
From building site
We found were to our liking
We did build
A great clubhouse
The hangout for we friends
There we spent
A summer day
That seemed to never end
Ken Goree
When we were kids we built a lot of forts in the woods
behind my neighborhood. I'm not exactly sure that the
construction crews were finished with that wood, however.
Oops!
By time and space
While playing with my friends
School was out
For woods we ran
To achieve our playful ends
Our ideas
For fun did flow
We'd make ourselves a fort
But the wood
We did not have
Our great plan we might abort
Then the scraps
From building site
We found were to our liking
We did build
A great clubhouse
The hangout for we friends
There we spent
A summer day
That seemed to never end
Ken Goree
When we were kids we built a lot of forts in the woods
behind my neighborhood. I'm not exactly sure that the
construction crews were finished with that wood, however.
Oops!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Night Terrors
Dark terror in the night
Gripping heart in cold
Jagged squeeze
Holding voice silent
Without chance to scream
Warning
Limbs bound tight with
Ropes of sharp panic’s
Strength
Senseless mind’s scattering
In rabbit-like frenzy of
Fear
Dark terror in the night
Releases its hold
Grudgingly
Fading quickly from memory
Fog running before
Sunlight
Ken Goree
My daughter talked me into watching a horror movie last night. I wasn’t impressed, just the same old “teenagers making bad choices, get their come-uppance,” through going insane or being murdered. Happily, a dog started barking back in the wetlands behind my house, where no dog has barked before. My daughter went out to see what it was. Then I did something I have never done to my kids before, I played on her fear … “Carly, careful, it might be The Other Twin (one of the evil legends in the movie).” I’m not sure I have ever seen her move that fast. I wish I had tried that when I was coaching her softball team, we would have been champions.
Gripping heart in cold
Jagged squeeze
Holding voice silent
Without chance to scream
Warning
Limbs bound tight with
Ropes of sharp panic’s
Strength
Senseless mind’s scattering
In rabbit-like frenzy of
Fear
Dark terror in the night
Releases its hold
Grudgingly
Fading quickly from memory
Fog running before
Sunlight
Ken Goree
My daughter talked me into watching a horror movie last night. I wasn’t impressed, just the same old “teenagers making bad choices, get their come-uppance,” through going insane or being murdered. Happily, a dog started barking back in the wetlands behind my house, where no dog has barked before. My daughter went out to see what it was. Then I did something I have never done to my kids before, I played on her fear … “Carly, careful, it might be The Other Twin (one of the evil legends in the movie).” I’m not sure I have ever seen her move that fast. I wish I had tried that when I was coaching her softball team, we would have been champions.
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