poetry and more from Kenneth W Arthur

Author Ken

Pastor. Author. Poet.


Billie Here is a strange and bitter crop – macabre scene of hanging black bodies, ghosts roused by sultry lament to hushed silence of offended pale faces come to be entertained, not embarrassed. Hers a voice that knew bitterness. Long… Continue Reading →


Happiness It asked a crumb of me and nothing more. Even that I could not give. Joe’s value wanes once cellophane is stripped, scotch tape cut, cardboard lid pried open, and he becomes a GI maimed in the sandbox wars… Continue Reading →

In the Woods

Very pleasantly surprised that my poem “In the Woods” won third prize in the poetry category at the local Westminster Art Festival. I think they’ll eventually put the winning poems on line and I’ll post a link when that happens,… Continue Reading →

Timid Poet Underground Open Mic

Sticky post

 I try to host an open mic for local poets about once a quarter. The idea is to provide a space for people to share their poems, stories, or music that feels comfortable and safe for both newbie and seasoned… Continue Reading →

The veil

The veil shall be lifted – nevermore! Forever the bride on cusp of matrimony caught in nervous pause before “I do” when love’s confidence crashes headlong with reality’s fear. Promises of happiness and better times – empty as the local… Continue Reading →

The Final Coastline

The Final Coastline (After the image “Lighthouse at the Edge of the World” by G.G. Silverman) Answers must be there. Somewhere. Weathered. Wary. With insight of pleasure endured, agony relished. But life feels like a stranger’s memory, a blurry-eyed drunk… Continue Reading →

Can it be that

Can it be that Which sets us free is what we fear most? We demand the right to do as we please, no matter if it pleases no one else. To ridicule deformed bodies; invent our own reality when facts… Continue Reading →

Let’s Make a Deal

Let’s Make a Deal The door of compassion is ours if we wish to keep it – or do we want door #2 instead? Monty Hall wants to know. We come costumed to deal, would-be saints wield holy books, old… Continue Reading →

Writer’s Block, or On Being Indecisive And Fearful When It Comes To Just About Everything

Writer’s Block, or On Being Indecisive And Fearful When It Comes To Just About Everything So I just listened, my pen in the air, for the muse to speak from silence. A character in a movie once proclaimed “the poem… Continue Reading →

Hope or despair, I can’t decide

Hope or despair, I can’t decide Free beer, I’ll say, though there is no free beer. Maybe heaven will serve drafts gratis, a little cheer-me-up to brighten the spirits. If it’s not just a bait and switch where we show… Continue Reading →

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