Beyond Summer
The unmade lavender storm won’t last forever on this vintage October day
When something as old as dry flowers and as blue as the ocean breezes Yet half broken still in its precious delight
Brings up things unbidden like the memory of her skin which will glow forever
And like marijuana fields will never be totally stopped
These unsubtle manifestations are indicative of either wisdom or its ghost
But all of this was just a caterpillar in those now evaporated days
When the harvesting of Ms Perfect’s red grapes that were spread out like Egyptian hieroglyphics
Always started with a six-pack of something old-fashioned and quite winged
And that I can still taste in the lost and found of my unwanted dreams
Where I also remember how foolish she was when she thought that in a Chinatown
That spoke in iambic pentameter that she had said goodbye forever
Not realizing that she will always be a prisoner in the high, high tower of my poetry
The Erosion Of
The pale skin of her breath had all the rhythm of Toulouse Lautrec
Her eyes were pastels in a five and dime store
Accentuated by a harbor of petticoats I only rarely ventured into
Below the moonlit lake that was her swirling hair
And the way she looked at me
While she ate French fries like a ballerina
Haunts me still like some only once savored wine
Until like a churchyard seagull I lost sight of long ago
The blurring dark of my memories swallows her up again whole
And I am left shipwrecked in the midst of winter
Where I once again get whittled down by a sleep that can no longer be denied
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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