The Broth of Daybreak
The sea urchins sing soft lullabies
Beneath a sky pregnant with seagulls Near a popup book moon landing of a lagoon
That spreads out into a beach full of
The rarest fossils now abandoned
It does shimmer as all is blanketed by
Mumbling drops of rain
As the lighthouse plays a foghorn fiddle
So sad and violet tinged as it transcends
And yet remains unfettered
On this lazy Sunday that rode in on
A horse of hammered brass
And brought me here to write
This impassioned letter
To this eternal ocean side
Where I inhaled the coming summertime
On this harshest day of winter
Leopold Bloom’s Feast
My koi pond is a poetry book
Its well worn waterfall lisps with metered rhyme And I have fallen asleep by its overflowing jewelry
That acts like prisms on this Freon cooled night sky
And as angels dance in on moonbeams of unsnapped amber
Like pink petals floating across the bluffs
Even as unkempt midnight slithers in like a snake
Casting long shadows that look just like Buddhist monks
Seashells No One Else Can See
These coastal regions have a mockingbird’s plume
On this Hitchcock thriller of a day While handmade hotrods prowl
Like saber tooth cats near the red vine licorice
Rolling hills where John Steinbeck’s words
Are still a deep mahogany as they echo
On an alchemical combination of ocean breezes
Atop train tracks that are long vanished
Yet are still rolling on the river
On the river where I woke up
To the seepage from corroded Popeye cartoons
In the silver haired farm fields there
Ken L. Jones has written everything from Donald Duck comic books to dialogue for the Freddy Krueger movies for the past thirty plus years. In the last three years he has gained great notice for his vast publication of horror poetry which has appeared in many anthology books, blogs, magazines and websites and especially in his first solo book of poetry Bad Harvest and Other Poems. He is also publishing recently in the many fine anthology poetry books that Kind of A Hurricane Press is putting out.
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