Monday, January 18, 2016

Three Poems by Ken L. Jones

If You Find Yourself Anywhere Near Real

The luminous sparkle of what endless hour
When the red diamond stars became a silent flute
With all the strength and endurance of smoke on the water
That was borne of the whip cream institute and
Now while I call forth the tatters of your kingdom by name
I find that I will still remain beckoned by all of this
That is empty and will soon be forever blotted away

Like a Spiritualist without Oxygen

The gate of morning opened to a garden full of light
Where my youth spoke in birdlike greetings
To the fruits and flowers there
Back when the highest wisdom was the sun
As it was seen on that tangle of a river
Still oh so fondly remembered
In the train wreck of this my final winter
And yet I still long to gorge myself
On the absinthe of the lingerie
Once worn by specters of the warmest colors
Born and bred to beauty
Who have no hung up their wings
Leaving me alone in these years like Oz
While she kept working on her spiced rum time machine
That can never carry her back to anything
And in her hot yellow fervor was released the reaper
As I awoke an elderly old gentleman much too soon
And though her intent was that she was poised to leave me
She left behind instead this beautiful tune

The White Rabbit has Gypsy Secrets

Burnt sienna late summer dances through Crayola lilies
That are as ajar as van Gogh ever was
The nectar of the morning breeze is a mobile scented cocoon
Like some Egyptian mummy gleaming like a firstborn sunburst in bloom
Lightly into the wings that enshroud her long and raven hair
That will always be daylight savings by that shriveled butterfly of a sea
Now that summer melts me down and recasts me into the creaking body
That lately is my jail as I am haunted by visions
Of when the scent of alchemy dissipated dreams have become my only bedfellows
As I watch on my bedroom screen for the two thousandth time
Little Ricky Ricardo's birthday party which has aged like the finest of wines

For the past thirty-five years Ken L. Jones has been a professionally published author who has done everything from writing Donald Duck Comic books to creating things for Freddy Krueger to say in some of his movies.  In the last six years he has concentrated on his lifelong ambition of becoming a published poet and he has published widely in all genres of that discipline in books, online, in chapbooks and in several solo collections of poetry.  

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