Poetry From The Profound Bartender

Curator's Note:

I write for two blogs, Profound Living , here, and The Profound Bartender which I co-host with my brother David. Each site engages me in different ways and has different followers, which is good for me as a writer. I'll write something in one place that I'd not write in another. I can't really explain that, but it's good for me.

Sometimes I re-post essays or poems I've written in one place to another. Poetry (like writing essays) is new for me, and I seem to be keeping poetry I've written from various places here in the Profound Poetry Contributors tab as best I can.

Here are a few that hadn't found their way here yet.

~MK

Haiku For The Changing Seasons (This - with pictures - was originally posted at The Profound Bartender on October 4, 2019)

Which Coat To Wear?

Which coat to wear? Which?

Rainproof or toasty warm? Which?

Depends on whether.

Colds, flues, sneezing, blues

Burning eyes and running noses

Still to work I hie

Changing Seasons

Changing seasons, change

Lives, life, living. Live.

Holy pause between

Early Morning

Early morning dark

Too dark to read or write

Haiku moves inside

My Big Ole Bunion (This - with a picture of my big ole bunion - was publishing on The Profound Bartender on September 14, 2019)

It’s not a pot belly

Or a beer belly

Or any blue law belly

It’s just my big ‘ole belly.

It’s not Paul Bunyan

Or Damon Runyon

A Vidalia onion

Or even Tim-the-Dunker Duncan

It’s just my big ‘ole bunion.

It’s not a career rut

Or reading smut

Or potato glut

Or sweet doughnut

Or…

...you know where I’m going with this, don’t you?

It’s just my big ‘ole butt.

It is what’s getting old

As life unfolds

As years have rolled

As I’ve grown unsold

On life controlled.

What Does It Take To Sell Your Soul? (Originally posted at The Profound Bartender on July 6, 2019)

Everyone is focused on the children

The innocents

The helpless

The ones who don’t understand, can’t.

Who can’t imagine why they are living

In hell.

The ones who are just kids who want to play outside.

That is the right priority.

But I wonder about the process of selling your soul

So you can be part of something

So you can make money.

So that you can feel important

feel safe, feel superior, feel NIMBY, feel this land is my land

this land is not your land

So, what is the process of selling your soul?

That's the right question.

What does it take to kiss Jesus on the cheek

And to betray everything he stood for,

Lived for, died for.

For thirty pieces of silver

And a seat at the table.

Haiku (These haiku were originally posted at The Profound Bartender - my first haiku there - on May 23, 2019)

I've Been To the Mountaintop

I've been to the mountaintop.

Not so. A summit.

Still, vast is the view.

A backyard playground.

Laughing dogs, barking kids.

Now...still. Broken home.

I Am Here Now

Danger awaits me

So they say, in every way

But I am here now.

A Doughty Amash

A doughty Amash

Self-manumitted

From "freedom" caucus shackles

Imperturbable

Imperturbable

Zen Master, Catholic Saint

Unfathomable

I Need That Space! (This is part of a larger essay about taking handicap parking spaces posted on The Profound Bartender on June 16, 2019)

Today We Need It

Years back, angry note

Re: taking handicap space

Today we need it.