Home » Poems » Best » David Kettler » Best David Kettler Poems

Best Poems Written by David Kettler

Below are the all-time best David Kettler poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | David Kettler Poem

Empty Bedrooms

I walk past empty bedrooms that once held my boys
The beds made so perfect, the absence of noise
Books there on the book shelf and not upon the floor
No ear-splitting music, no slamming the door

It’s eerily quiet now these once busy dens
These bunkers of bustle with brothers and friends
They’re off to college now the closets are clean
They only come home now on days in between

The weeks of the study the homework and toil
With loads of their laundry all dirty with soil
These nice empty bedrooms so tidy and neat
Just aren’t the same in their pristine retreat

As when the sneakers are thrown in a corner
The fridge it is drained like an unwilling donor
The noise and the smell of exercised teens
Showing off muscles with biceps and spleens

Banging a cupboard while toasting some bread
At three in the morning before heading to bed
Now some dorm at the coast, in some far away place
Or corner of frat-house who’s presence they grace

Our bedrooms are empty the rooms nice and quiet
The sheets all in place and the fridge on a diet
But once in a while it all comes to life
Things they are back to the brotherly strife

Rooms not so tidy and sharp as a knife
As when we’re alone…just me and my wife

David Kettler

Details | David Kettler Poem

Twin Scenario

Would we love a baby’s laugh
if we never heard it scream?

Would we grasp reality
without the vision or the dream?

Would the brightness of the sunrise
mean as much without the night?

Would the trophy from the victory
mean as much without the fight?

Do we appreciate the inside
after being locked without?

Does the shadow of the unknown
help us grasp what life’s about?

Would we ever feel the joy
if we never felt the pain?

Loved the warmth of sunshine
if it wasn’t for the rain?

When the darkest times of sorrow
on our path came bearing down

Did it not define the joyfulness
that later we have found?

If never were we down
would we then not know what’s up?

If once we tasted dregs
would we lift another cup?

If never did we die
then never would we live

Most likely would we miss
what life would like to give

So one defines the other
on this path that we will go

Life is all about…
the twin scenario

 
David Kettler
Written 9/22/10

Details | David Kettler Poem

My Dog

My dog is not a manly dog,
she’s my dog just the same
A manly dog rides in a truck
and retrieves the hunted game

My dog, she is a lady dog…
when we got her she was small
A little puff of fluffy fur…
all wrapped up in a ball!

They told us she would stay that way,
but her waistline it went south!
Everything that hits the floor
just ends up in her mouth!

A cookie here and a cracker there
now she’s a butterball.
And when she steps up on the scale,
the Vet’s face says it all!

I love the Pit Bulls’ bully grin
I love the Labrador
I love the Husky’s arrogance
And Sheep Dogs even more

But none of them would last a day
In my Dutch wife’s clean abode
But Mollie she has passed the test
and has never hit the road

I sure don’t feel real manly
when I take her for a walk
The neighbors they just kind of grin
But deep inside they mock

“That big ol’ guy; that little dog”…
I feel like such a sap!
Mollie really does belong
asleep on Grandma’s lap!

Now she’s getting on in years
her jump is not so high
She really hates to get her bath
when soap gets in her eye

The day will come when Mollie dies
and yes I’ll get  choked up
Remembering my little puff
who once was just a pup!

David Kettler
March 23rd 2011

Details | David Kettler Poem

Zebra

The Zebra she walks through the African dry
Unaware of the mare, under Montana sky

A World far away yet somehow so near
With similar interest and similar fear

The Zebra is free with her family to roam
The mare has a stall, to call all her own

They look much the same, but for stripes on the one
The mare’s glossy coat shines in the sun

The Zebra is alert for danger is near
The mares grown accustom, to a much different fear

A cat for the one, is an enemy to guard
To the other, a cat is a friend…who sits in the yard

To the Zebra a dog, is a Hyena pack
To the mare he helps, put the cattle out back

So both carry a burden, through the long everyday
One careless mistake, with their lives they will pay

A broken leg turns, the mare into glue
One slip by the Zebra, and her family is through

So the mare and the Zebra, may not share the same stripe
But well connected they are…in truth and not tripe

Details | David Kettler Poem

Clouds Without Water

Clouds without water in a thirsty land
The promise of life for barren sand
Intense longing from a thirsty sky
Expectation has left us dry

Our fruitful valley the world does feed
But now it's US who are found in need
Of life-giving water from high above
Show us a sign...show us the love

The hope and longing are the hardest part
A promise in the clouds where the rain would start
The dark sky is threatening, the thunder it rolls
But the ground is dying...thirst is all that it knows

The seeds they look up, and the branches do too
At clouds without water...who pass right on through
Begging for moisture, life-giving to bring
Drought in its soil...hope in its cling

David Kettler

Details | David Kettler Poem

All About the Art

It’s all about the art- and not about the chart
About the story being told, not coins or bags of gold

Does it come from deep inside, from that hidden secret place?
The emotion from within, the page of life to grace

It’s all about the art- the song being sung
The lyrics of my life, the bell that’s being rung

Long hours spent, must be spent in love
The practice, the drive, to reach the stars above

It’s all about the art- not about the game
The gift that we give, not coveting the fame

The call of the road, the journey of life
The spoonful of joy, the cut of the knife

It’s all about the art- it’s all about the love
When talent and desire, fit just like a glove

The picture being painted, the sketch being drawn
From the last crimson sunset, to early morning dawn

It’s all about the art- the gift that we leave
Intricate fabric, of the legacy we weave

Life is not a fake, a lie or crafted cheat
What is real is all that counts, upon the final sheet

It’s all about the art, the gut the sweat the heart
It’s all about the art, from the finish to the start  

David Kettler




The other day I was listening to a song on Pandora that I really liked and immediately I found myself scrolling to find out if the singer had written the song. I realized that many times I find myself doing that and I guess the reason is that it helps me try to identify with the artist and match the emotion of the voice with the emotion of the writing. More and more I find myself rejecting so called pop-music that is generated, manipulated, often plagiarized and butchered beyond belief all for the aim of climbing some so-called chart. This line came to me on my way to work that day…”It’s all about the ART…NOT about the chart!! After a good thanksgiving meal yesterday at Grandmas and a long night spent in a turkey coma…this poem came out this morning.

Details | David Kettler Poem

Dad's Gone

You tore a hole in my heart my dear old Dad
when you left and went away
The dreaded disease you bravely battled
refused to let you stay

The calls home now are not the same
your voice I cannot hear
However sometimes, I sense that you’re there
and standing very near

I picture your haircut, that timeless flattop
colored in wisdom’s grey
Your beautiful smile and those calloused old hands
gently pointing the way

I see your blue eyes so filled with love
and wonder when they turn my way
What do you see way down the road
and what are they trying to say?

Your words I hear as clear as a bell
though inaudible in my ear
I think of the things you would have said
when helping my path to steer

Dad, you’re gone yet you’re always right here
I carry you in my heart
Somewhere down the road we’ll join up again
when we never have to part

Details | David Kettler Poem

Wagon

The Wagon

                       The Radio Flyer that carried my friend
                      The hay wagon ride at October’s end
                      The seat in the car that faced to the back
                      The kids making faces, through rear window crack
                      The little wagon, that rolled up the street
                      The wheel that would squeak…
                      And the ice cream was sweet
                     My buddy and me with horsepower one
                     Holes in our shoes, but man it was fun!
                     Our wagon we left to sit in the rain
                     To gather some rust, and childhood pain
                     Just an old wagon, no power of its own
                     To pull through the streets
                     While your childhood is on loan
                     The handle hangs down, in the middle it’s bowed
                     At my command, it goes where it’s towed
                     Carrying treasure like toys sticks and pearls
                    Along with my memory, of pony-tailed girls
                    It’s long gone now, sold at the sale
                    But it took me a ways…up life’s little trail

                  David Kettler

Details | David Kettler Poem

One Voice

Just one voice upon the wind
The trees they sway the leaves they spin
Just one man in one brief vapor
Breathing thoughts that form within

Just one voice among so many
Casting forth my latest spin
Sharing wisdom for a penny
Hoping to be heard again

Just one voice above the roar
Trying hard to reconnect
Stand and knock at reason’s door
Seeking truth to recollect

Just one voice then I’ll be quiet
The wind will still the leaves will fall
Not too sure one soul will buy it
Not sure it will count at all

Just one voice- just one choice
Speak or ever hold your peace
Breathing soft the winds rejoice
Till the falling leaves all cease

David Kettler, 12/24/15

Details | David Kettler Poem

Dead Little Bird

Dead Little Bird

A dead little bird, alone on the ground
No open window, no entrance was found
The light in his eye slowly burns out
No riding the wind- no flying about

The rude awakening of glass that was there
The wall, so transparent-no need to beware
So inviting the room seemed to be inside
So fatal the secret the room had to hide

The bird now is helpless to flee from its plight
Enemies circle and wait for the night
Once free and alone on the wing of its flight
The sad little bird is a sad little sight

Beware little one as you flutter about
Of things transparent… that leave only doubt
Much better the wing on the wind to be found
Than a dead little bird…alone on the ground

David Kettler