Long Ken Poems
Long Ken Poems. Below are the most popular long Ken by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ken poems by poem length and keyword.
Saturday morning, I spoke into his ears by telephone.
I was informed that he would be able to hear me even
as he lay there dying. As it turned out, he was less than
three days away from heaven when I connected to my friend
and 'one giant of a man of God'. I was able to say 'Goodbye for now".
I could barely speak, trying my hardest to keep from crying. 92 years
of age and 21 years my senior, and a friend of the highest kind. Less than
two years ago, I wrote a piece about what "My Friend Ken" means to me.
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When after I read the spirits of those I once served say to me, "Thank you. You may go now"; When after I had been cast from pillar to post and had given everything I knew to give; When I went to church with little purpose and without embarrassment for falling asleep; When I had no interest in people and headed for the exits as soon as the service was dismissed; When by the age of 44, I had faced 'rejection after rejection', "no thank you after no thank you"; When I had reached a point where there were very few things I cared anything about anymore;
At that point, he set his eyes on me with a Godly love that reached deep inside of me and left no doubt that he was seeing in me what I used to see before I closed my heart and my eyes, refusing to see anymore.
I wanted to ignore him, not desiring to get involved, but he believed in me and stayed the course. He simply perfected the art of befriending one who seemed to have lost his way, never trying to fix, correct, or change me.
Like a young father or older brother to me, he is 90 years of age and a member of what is known as 'the greatest generation'. A devoted one name Ken is truly a 'Godsend' and has become a dear friend, helping me return to spiritual civility and purpose.
110519PoSoup
The Holocaust was a reminder to us…
besides being a most horrific crime…
that dark forces of evil and intolerance
have been flowing since the dawn of time.
If you want a sampling of how cruel and inhuman
we, who call ourselves human, can be…
I’ll be frank…watch Ken Burns’s ‘The U. S.
and the Holocaust’ and read Anne’s diary.
An innocent young child who, because of her religion,
faced unimaginable enmity and strife…
who never had the chance to grow old…
to have a long and happy life.
She was but one of millions of Jewish people
who, at the hands of the Nazis, died…
a crime so horrific it didn’t have a word to describe it…
it does not…genocide.
But as I watched Ken Burns ‘Holocaust’ and read Anne’s words…thinking no crimes have ever been as gruesome as these…
I began to wonder if there were other children in the world
who have written similar diaries.
Looking back on the history of humankind…
I imagine there are a few…
and as difficult as it would be to hear their words…
I think we need to read them too.
Other groups of humans
whose annihilation was in other human’s plans…
If these children had written diaries…
would their words be similar to Anne’s?
From Native Americans, Blacks, people of color, women
who have endured so much torture and pain…
to LGBTQ+ people all over the world
and most recently…the people of Ukraine.
There are times when the stream of evil begins to overflow its banks
and no matter how much we pray…
its waters rush in determined to eliminate
anyone who gets in their way.
When groups of people are signaled out…belittled…
made to feel different and small….
until more diaries our discovered…
Anne’s words must speak for them all.
Anne never got to finish her diary…
she died just before the end of the war….
but I imagine she wouldn’t mind if it was finished
with words from Eleanor…
Eleanor…who throughout it all…remained steadfast…
resolute and strong….
She said there can be no compromise at any point
with things that we know are wrong.
Perhaps one way to keep the stream of evil contained…
to keep it from overflowing its shore…
would be to watch Ken’s series
read through the pages of Anne’s diary…
and heed the words of Eleanor.
'All work and no play
may make a dullard out of Jack'
or so someone
was heard to crack
but all talk an no work
will not get the job done
yet world leaders fly round the globe
to discuss the environment
but forget their carbon footprints
and simply write it off
as merely entertainment
such discussions could be held
via the Internet web of intrigue
why they won't is beyond my ken
altho' I pay their way
they must be out of my league
'Every man for himself'
is more than a selfish diatribe
but 'One for all and all for one'
thanks to Mr. Dumas
(1802 – 1870)
is a phrase to which I can subscribe
We sat and talked all through the night
Your heart and mind in a confusing fight
Heart says you love him, your mind says why
Your heart says hard to explain so please just try
Heart says his eyes say a lot, he has emotional layers
Mind says wake up, smell the coffee, he’s just a player
Heart says but I love him, I can’t let him go
Mind says he’s a player and time will show
We sat and we talked, you became sad
Confusion swept over you, you should be mad
He came back after silence for 6 long weeks
The confusion is what does he seek
We sat and we talked, and you asked why
Then you sat there and began to cry
I shed a tear with you tonight
Your Pain is my pain, I can’t make this right
Ken you remind me of a free bird, never knowing where to land.
Just flying from here to there all day, with no apparent plan.
You never had it easy, your life was hard from the very start.
you were dealt a dying hand, at an early age you did part.
You never really had a home, or fit in anywhere.
you tried your hand at many things, but wanted something else out there.
Ken I never understood you, or tried hard enough I think.
I feel I failed you in many ways, I fear was it me that pushed you to the brink?
You were wild and crazy all the time, like no one else I ever knew.
doing things I could not comprehend, and come to find out, I never had a clue.
I tried to love you but was afraid, to admit that now is shameful for me.
You were a time bomb ticking out of control, and at that rate you’d soon cease to be.
When I heard the news you had gone, I screamed and cried and numb I went.
I thought about you and the life we had, soon I fell to my knees to seek repent.
I’ve lived this guilt for many years, trying to erase you from my head.
You there to remind me every day, that I am the reason, you ended up…..dead.
I’m sorry Ken. I’m sorry. I was so young and so afraid.
I suppose this is my plea for forgiveness. The only one to you, I’ve ever made.
Please forgive me Ken, forgive me, there’s nothing more I can say.
it was long ago, it was not fair, but I must live my life today.
Goodbye Ken, goodbye my love. I have to let you go.
You are free to leave my thoughts now. I must move on so I can grow.
Dear Old Ken,
Hello there, how are you doing today? I hope you’re doing good, sitting in the past of my life. I knew that letting you control me would end up in a massive war between us, like World War II starting again. There are, however, things you cannot control. Want to know those things? Here I’ll tell you.
Back in your days, motivation and being a leader wasn’t on your “To-Do” list, but it’s on mine. Becoming a poet and a successful writer wasn’t on your list either, but still, it’s on mine. You, Old Ken, never wanted to be successful, nor wanted to become a better person! In your mindset, going place to place, group home to group home, Nebraska to Iowa and back, and most importantly, going from happy to angry really quick would make you feel strong and powerful! BOY YOU’RE WRONG!
Going place to place, group home to group home, becoming happy to angry was only you back. Guess what, look whose standing now! Who is making every day count and whose becoming more successful, you or I? By the looks of it and all of the accomplishments, I’m being more successful! Here, let me explain how;
1. I am a published author with ten poems in my school (which probably you don’t care for)
2. Every teacher and family member has confidence in me succeeding in life (which you don’t care for either)
3. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ for Later-Day Saints. Lastly,
4. I am graduating this December of 2016.
You see, Old Ken that everyone can change if they are willing to put in the effort 100% of their energy. So, I am leaving you with a piece of advice that you will probably hate: GROW UP AND BECOME A MAN!!!
-From
New Ken
*****
I adopted a friendly old dog,
a black Lab named Ken
He's not much of a watch dog
but we're great friends
Ken, has a favorite red ball
he takes it everywhere he goes
even to the vet beside the mall
A vision of smiles playing in the snow
One night, I was sleeping in bed
awaken to glass breaking
Bang!.. Yelp!.. My heart sank in dread
thud, thud, thud, my body was shaking
My life flashed before my eyes.
frozen in time, a prisoner in the dark.
I fear death! Will no one hear my cries?
Then reality brought me back, "Arf"!
I felt something hit my chest,
thud, bouncing on the rug.
"Arf," Ken! I should have guest
you scared me, I gave him a hug.
The house is a battle zone
Ken!, You're a bad boy, No! more ball.
His ears went down as he groans,
-dropping the ball at my feet, excited, "Arf", rlay rall" (play ball)
12-4-21
****Fictional****
Form: Acrostic
Don’t walk by,pretend not to see
Outside in the cold is no place to be
Whistle to yourself,think glad it’s not me
No-one can escape their destiny.
No-one can prepare for all trials of life
One day it is bliss the next day is strife
Taking one day at a time is now my life.
Optimism is the only way out
Upturns are ahead I have no doubt
Thinking to myself I am down not out.
Because when I am sensing the dark side
I remember who always stands by side
Through him is where all my power does reside
Thrown away all I have of foolish pride
My love for him is no longer denied
No more drinking shall there be of their flouride
Caught I a glimpse of yonder far hillside
Location found is highly classified
Tell you its close though, time of the Yuletide
Be sure you protect your broadside
This is to make sure that you don't backslide
Vast distance to go before you reach dockside
The seas you travel know they are mystified
Dangers encountered will seemed magnified
At its end you journey will be justified
In a world of opinions and plastic,
answers to questions become bendable ..
Stretching every which way, when elastic
We have Barbie and Ken, that are able
In a world of, all for me, some for you
Stretching in all ways, being elastic ..
Barbie says this, Ken has a point of view
which causes division, so much static
In a world of fairness, wrong verses right
Stretching in ways that is so dramatic,
views being unmatched, the pulling is tight ..
tension exists, in a world of plastic
Barbie and Ken tangle each point of view
In a world of, all for me, some for you
_________________
Just a little Scribble
~ Lingering thoughts ~
Still trying to understand
Analogous to black box
holding untold secrets,
I share the following self
introspection with ye,
which purported hidden truths
might set me free,
albeit laborious effort
to loose constituent amalgamated
compound elements unmined
tantamount to agony
riddling psyche effort to extract
thorny matters incumbent upon me
versus tapping Androcles and the lion
think Roman mythology.
Oftimes methinks... whoami
spending scores of years
with frustrated sigh
hermetically sealing body electric
housing generic garden variety guy
severely emotionally tormented
contemplating, integrating,
blithely urging wish to die
even at this moment,
yet reluctantly shy
away to embrace death wholeheartedly,
nor would I try
putting anonymous life (mine)
on the line, though...
nonetheless envisioning rejoicing
(as told to significant other -
the missus naturally averse
to my demise well nigh)
without ability to explain why
per se if mortal ailment
truncated mein kampf
Noel cowardly lie,
cuz becoming gratefully dead try
not to laugh while
yours truly cannot deny
permanent absence twill recognize
hard skool of knocks alumni
posthumously make his name linked with
hallowed as if that martyred,
though the feted occasion
beholds mine scattered
cremated ashes carried,
loosed, whisked... to sky
will not require men to don black tie,
nor mourn angst peppered soul,
no longer will any banshee cry
all quiet on western front forever reunify
me with cosmic consciousness eternal ally.