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     The Literary Review


Page 15

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As Though You Are Floating Above

Thinking of the books of Kurt Vonnegut brings on a flood of memories
That end in mutiny as all day like branches in the wind they overcame me
But why start the next world war
For what earned Kurt’s typewriter a purple heart doesn’t need me to publicly lecture anyone
about it
For it will always speak for itself fiercely yet thoughtfully
Even as the world in general these days sends out rejection letters to books they’ve never even
read before.
  Ken L. Jones__


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Tangible Examples Of

I feel disconnected from my former luminous wings
Now just a bouncy castle that gets dangerously hot in the summer sun
And though alchemical secrets still swirl
I do little to attempt to turn my current unclear agenda into gold these days
And so do paint its branches with black velvet images from fairy tales
Till I get reincarnated once again if the pictographs are to be believed
Which predict that I will continue my shamanic vision quest
As I drift from life to life like a windblown tumbleweed.

  Ken L. Jones__


Every Time Goes Away Temporally

It seems as time does slip away
That I am about to embark on such strange days
As I walk down corridors that I've never known
In a world where all are alone
While we talk to strangers on the phone
And pick, pick, pick through history’s bones
And suck their old marrow down
Now that though in this new era I remain a clown
There are few circuses to go around.

  Ken L. Jones__


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Drunk With The Beauty Of This Day

I am a prisoner of time past
As I look out over this songbird of a harbor
And remember how boats filled with our good Irish butter
Once braved the unremitting howl of winds and storm clouds
That were like the ugliest of homemade dolls
Yet as I seek the perfection of other times now lost
And since my future no longer has a navigator
All recedes into the mists of unclear oceans
Where they bob submerged like childhood memories
Until my long walk home relieves me of such ruminations
That waft away like a discarded and disintegrating diary’s myriad and forgotten entries.

  Ken L. Jones__