Ken Allan Dronsfield Died Today Chasing the Raptors Through the Nebulae

I Think I Died Today

I think I died today.
Staring at the bare walls;
a knife, a fork, a bottle and
candle lay before me.
The sounds of blaring horns,
screeching brakes and shouting;
echo from sweltering streets below
through my shaded open window.
The smells and hell of the city
permeate the entire room and
the fan in the corner just quit;
but...... I think I died today.
I laid there, on the old mattress,
sweat running down my face.
I dozed off for a bit, and awoke
in lovely fields of green grass,
with white crosses all about.
I stood and watched friends of old
toss roses of red into the hole of
darkness, landing upon a casket.
I think I'm there, tucked inside
wearing my dark gray suit,
white shirt and hated 70's tie...
Oh yes, I died today,
I just don't know why.


Splintered

Bending
twisting so
deserted.
Windswept
bristle cone
legend grown.
Rock or slag
of boundless
stone crags.
Lifeless eyes
exhale dust
in dried grass.
Rattlers move
ride or hide on
high plains.
Desert chill
breathing still
splintered dry.


Chasing the Raptor

My ghostly shadow soars, an exhilarated flight;
forbidden in a life; bequeathed beyond the veil;
Memories burn away like a nebula's fiery light;
Rising from the ground; to the clouds I inhale.
Once only strife where a life should've been;
Destiny fulfilled during this sunset at the harbor.
I'll smile for awhile; electric vibes upon my skin.
Now soaring into the mist; Chasing the Raptor.



Bio: Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published Poet and Author originally from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He enjoys thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night, and spending time with his cats Merlin and Willa. He is the Co-Editor of the new Poetry Anthology titled, "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze" available at Amazon.com. His published work can be found in Journals, Magazines and Blogs throughout the Web including: Indiana Voice Journal, Belle Reve Journal, Peeking Cat Magazine, Dead Snakes, Bewildering Stories and many others.

Mark Young, Stricken By Hubris, Rollerskates in the Buffalo Herd While Tagging Butterflies

Watermelon Patch

In a morning

landscape in

which every

nutso bird in the

neighborhood

has come to-

gether to gather

in varietal

flocks & shout

down the other

flocks for im-

pinging upon

their territory,

the sound of

Roger Miller

proclaiming

loudly from the

house across

the road that

you can't

rollerskate in a

buffalo herd is

a reminder

that prejudice

is a standard

feature of the

landscape in

cowboy country

such as this

is hereabouts.

Transient amateurs

"We just

crank out the

data," said

the male kick-

boxer coming

out of a period

of secondary

hypogonadism

after his last

bout. "It's

the transient

amateurs, who

survey birds,

tag butterflies,

measure sunlight

& study solar

eclipses, that

are the true

artists of this

modern medium

of combat re-

placement."

Lares et Penates

Hubris strikes me down. Or,

more precisely, a cold; but I was

boasting only a few weeks ago

how the winters here were warm,

& now there are twenty degree

differentials between day &

night & I am dosed with

aspirin & vitamins. Unwilling

to write, poetry anyway, in case

I end up trolling down long

gloomy corridors of introspection

& self-distrust. Baroque replaced

by Berocca. Oh Marienbad, why

hast thou forsaken me? An

email from Jukka comes to the

rescue. We discuss detective stories.

Mark Young's most recent books are Bandicoot habitat & lithic typology, both from gradient books of Finland.  An e-book, The Holy Sonnets unDonne has just come out from Red Ceilings Press, & another e-book, For the Witches of Romania, is due out from Beard of Bees.