Beauty “Beauty is truth, truth beauty, – that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.” – Keats Her gentle song is a feast for that wisp of heart that floats free in denial, perhaps defiance,… Continue Reading →
Facing the Fox At that time some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.” He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will keep on driving out demons… Continue Reading →
The Great Extremely Stable Genius (After Walt Whitman’s The Great City) The place where a person of great genius stands is not the place of paid-off escorts, stiffed lawyers, hawked bitcoin, deposits of wealth, Nor the place of ceaseless puckering… Continue Reading →
Many thanks to the Cold Moon Journal for publishing my haibun “Splintered.” Read it at https://coldmoonjournal.blogspot.com/2025/03/splintered-haibun-by-kenneth-arthur.html.
In the Details Attention to details is lauded by prospective employers and teachers of poetry alike, but sometimes it’s better to squint and blur your sight. No one wants to see the long nostril hair wave like the flag of… Continue Reading →
Faith When tyrants justify cruelty with lies When presidents mad for lawless power speak nothing but revenge When bullies win journalists drop to their knees … Continue Reading →
grief https://www.timidpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/grief.mp3 A sense of loss seeped into life’s cracks unnoticed at first as her illness stalked her body. A cough, shortness of breath, unnoticed at first. She would feel better and then a cough, shortness of breath lingered… Continue Reading →
Many thanks to the New Verse News who published my poem “Museum of Cutting Edge Technology.” Read it at https://newversenews.blogspot.com/2025/01/museum-of-cutting-edge-technology.html.
Secrets she was many things but never comfortable in her own body, the enemy, with it’s own mission to confound. she encouraged others shared her struggles notebooks with one or two pages filled then put away life swept into a… Continue Reading →
Reaching Life is not possible without an opening toward the transcendent. – Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane Threatened by boot-quake, a pill bug curls into itself and quickens its demise. Threatened by a world unhinged, a monk curls… Continue Reading →
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