Poetry From The Profound Bartender
Catching Up With Poetry Over There....
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.
Still To Work I Hie
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 Broken Home
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.
