Three Poems by Ken L. Jones

All On A Moment Of A Morning

Dozens of large scoop billed pelicans

Attack the salty guts and peering eyed fish heads
Thrown everywhere on the sea sprayed slick uneven planks of a pier
That only rubber boots can stand erect upon
Now that the shorter winter days have at last decided to rear their heads
So long after we’d given them up for dead

  

Delicate Experiments

The birds returned as ghosts and fragments above playgrounds

Whose fingertips had become snow
As church bells rang out until I found out
That they were made of seaweed and driftwood and of foam
And deserted my environs for the beach below
And on that autumn coast line where my mother
Still sings in the stormy weather there
With all the slow motion of a thrift store
My thoughts became a monstrous shipwreck
That scattered everywhere

 

Communication From Earth

The crumbled Santa Ana winds are peculiar machines

The spring trees now have angelic faces
The streets are flowing with blackberry wine
Tikis that look like they were made out of dishwater
Under the moaning lamplight of the white doves
Above the Wal-Mart across the street
And since never again will the night bloom in exactly this way
Who will miss me singing my songs that have no family tree
As I vanish into the moonlight that smells like rain
Somewhat shriveled by all my forgetting
And yet lost forever in the snowflakes of all that used to be.





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.