poetry and more from Kenneth W Arthur

Category Wrestling with Reality

Birds in a Mirror

Birds in a Mirror (After the image “Cloud Dance” by Claire Ibarra) Eyes locked with the old man, I’m reminded of stark trees naked in winter branches devoid of color, only a remembrance of beauty. Mottled with imperfection, his body… Continue Reading →

What the world needs

What the world needs Guiding taillights abruptly invisible, I gently step on the brake. Even the centerline fades as thick ground-fog hangs over the highway, camouflages oncoming traffic and the next bend. As I white knuckle my way forward, I… Continue Reading →

The Brazen Bard

The Brazen Bard Expeditions are risky. Moonflowers unfold beauty into darkness from which stanzas of our lives flow down the page. Or not. Much too can be said in a short haiku. Or what follows may hollow that first line… Continue Reading →

A Lament for Truth

A Lament for Truth I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. – Martin Luther King, Jr. Tears caress cheeks as we gather to mourn: Truth is dead. It may have won some day but… Continue Reading →


Sacraments An unintentional baptism, canoe livery advised follow river center when we come to whitewater remains of demolished dam. The precipitous plunge briefly thins rushing water, removes its depth, draws bedrock closer. Froth of river’s fury warns of peril while… Continue Reading →

Is this poem real?

Is this poem real? Foucault claimed we are all inventions of ourselves, defined into bondage by those who would control us. Scientists classify genus and species to separate, organize but we’re still cousins to great apes. You can see it… Continue Reading →

Not Yet

Not Yet I. Empty jars, egg cartons, decades-old magazines, bins of yarn purchased and unused await someday in mom’s garage like scraps of phrases I once wrote and rejected mingle in digital purgatory, vague ideas of significant insignificance yearning for… Continue Reading →


Cracked You might not believe but I used to walk with senses spread, ears perked for robins rejoicing over unusually warm March days, eyes attentive to shirtless frat boys jogging away winter hibernation. That was before a bit of pavement… Continue Reading →

The Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree Four-foot pine perches on my end table past its appointed season needles green as ever, as plastic as merriment coerced by Hallmark puppies hanging around wearing Santa hats and riding candy canes, polar bears wrapped in red… Continue Reading →

The Timid Poet

The Timid Poet Microphone passes hand to hand around the anthology of poets hoping to impress with words that dance and sing, confound reason and pierce hearts. Tinder photos and book jacket head shots promise good times, fun and adoration,… Continue Reading →

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