poetry and more from Kenneth W Arthur

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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 →

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 →

Ramblings on the Road

Ramblings on the Road     I. And miles to go before I sleep at journey’s end, if I’m able to sleep. Oh, a moment for relief and respite, a few hours with eyes closed. But, whether it be for… Continue Reading →

Finale Cento

Note: I originally wrote this poem as a response to a workshop writing prompt to create a cento, a poem composed of lines from other poets. The cento I created, below, consists solely of ending lines from published poems. This… Continue Reading →

Music Box

Music Box The delicate ballerina’s twirl mesmerized as it un-wound, leaving only the ghost of music shimmering, a remnant in the stillness of memory, stillness of moments pregnant with possibility, as if another turn could somehow sound my desolate depths…. Continue Reading →

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 →

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 →


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 →

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