Best Westward Poems

The ground is damp
it bleeds through my thin cotton skirt.
Crest born, I sit and wait the dawn.
My fingers weave into the high rye grass.
The house...

Read more of this work...

In the 1600's, Europeans lived on the eastern shore
Their numbers grew, they wanted more.
Iroquios, Sauk, Ottawa, and Mohawk were tribes they met
Too many and more,...

Read more of this work...

A wash of gold adorns the westward sky
as waning light departs a summer’s eve;
in readiness to roost, crows cease to fly
and seek their resting place...

Read more of this work...

Poet:  Ken Jordan 
Poem:  One Knee 
Edited by:  Sparkle Jordan 
written:  September 2017


One Knee

Yes, I kneel down on one knee 
damn...

Read more of this work...

Here's a toast to you America on this glorious Fourth of July!
May the grand old flag, the emblem of our nation, ever wave on high!
As...

Read more of this work...

The humid Hawaiian heat hobbles my head and heart too,
Hitting as the Humvee high-tails past on the highway, 
Sweat seeps steadily south from scalp to...

Read more of this work...

Moments pass away as distant church bells dirge;
their widow’s woe in windy waver trembles my tears.

Up the westward hill smoldering neath sunset’s pyre, I carry
the...

Read more of this work...

As I sit there looking out to sea,
Reflects a picture of a different time.
Its white washed walls set against the granite rock,
As the sea pounds...

Read more of this work...

In the mirror on Vishu morning I see an Indian woman
whose Brooklyn mouth can't form Hindu prayers.
Should I bleach my skin to match my voice?
Should...

Read more of this work...

When ceilings were cast on dreams
air thickened, swelling lungs 
with unbreathable mediocrity

pen is clutched
in reluctance of dim witted judgement,
small minded skewed views,
all pushing towards 
Oprah...

Read more of this work...

One of these days the sky is going to break
 and everything will escape.

I know this because .......
This is my least favorite life.

As the sun...

Read more of this work...

Life greeted Death
with an epoch
from the depths of dusk
with a dawn,

the sun rose lucid
with it's soft spotted infant rose
now awake,
hanging heavily harnessed
in the steaming swaying...

Read more of this work...

This poem was written after I took a tour of the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Wyoming, the site of Custer's Last Stand.

It was...

Read more of this work...

They live in fear in Ireland.
   Their sin is ' wearing of the green.'
   St. Patricks shamrock is now banned.
 ...

Read more of this work...

There Winter Lonely Fallows Deeply Dream


Long after that ripe golden sunset gleam
Cool silvery tones, wavering light;
Then winter lonely fallows deeply dream
Into the grayish ghostliness of...

Read more of this work...