The Timid Poet

poetry and more from Kenneth W Arthur

Page 13 of 13

Postscript to Wendell Berry’s Mad Farmer Manifesto

Postscript to Wendell Berry’s Mad Farmer Manifesto Walk a mile in the crazy angry farmer’s overalls and join the ranks of perturbed earth-lovers trying to grow majestic oaks in rank swamp land. Maybe the mad farmer should have gone Luther… Continue Reading →

Gravity and Grace

Gravity and Grace Angels and apples, sinners and seniors, all eventually fall, trapped in the gravity of the world. A Scarlet leaf, short-lived adornment,         wafts                 down,    … Continue Reading →

Bearing My Soul

Bearing My Soul I am who I am. To bear my soul is to carry the knowledge of who I am. To bare my soul is to reveal the knowledge of who I am. My soul as a bear is… Continue Reading →

River or Rock?

River or Rock? (in memory of Orlando: June 12, 2016) The ghost of childhood winters chills the summer heat, skipping across the field behind Bingham Elementary, stopping on mounds of plow driven snow where laughing twelve year olds once gathered…. Continue Reading →

Poetics

Poetics A whitewater rapids of tumbling words, flowing fast and furious, threatening to crash, or a decaying tooth holding fast by its roots, refusing to give way, painstakingly extracted. A scientist interrogates the mysteries of the cosmos and determines we… Continue Reading →

The Eschaton: Upon Dreaming of a Barren Land, Bigfoot, and Kris Kristofferson as God

The Eschaton: Upon Dreaming of a Barren Land, Bigfoot, and Kris Kristofferson as God Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down the barren boulevard, an urban desert, exploded skyscrapers gape, disembodied toothless grins stacked one upon the other. At the neighborhood park, mirth… Continue Reading →

Lessons of a Summer Day at the Beach

Lessons of a Summer Day at the Beach O Mother Earth, in selfish need we grasp for the riches and might of guns and gold. To profit and death we cling ’til last gasp, feasting on your carcass, vultures so… Continue Reading →

Openings

Openings cht      cht plop      plop tok      tok drip      drip What is the sound of water penetrating the crack in the ceiling? tap      tap      tapping into my brain Chinese water torture disturbing my slumber eroding… Continue Reading →

The Scream

The Scream (in memory of Orlando: June 12, 2016) One evening I was walking along a path, the city was on one side and the fjord below. I felt tired and ill. I stopped and looked out over the fjord—the… Continue Reading →

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