KENNETH NORMAN COOK

KENNETH

NORMAN COOK

WOULD SHE COME WITH ME?

If I gently took her hand

would she come with me

to an unknown world?

Would she come with me

to a new land where dreams

never come to an end

and where no teardrop

has ever fallen?

Would she fly with me

through the soft darkness

into a silver pool of light

that catches the breath,

skips the heart and

sends a shiver of ecstasy

rippling up the spine?

Would she sail with me

across the green, misty ocean

to an undiscovered island

where the sea breezes

silently fan the trees

with sweet, golden warmth

and the sky is an eternal shade

of heartbreaking blue?

If I gently took her hand

would she come with me

to an unknown world?

Would she come with me

to a place where loneliness

is a forgotten word

and sorrow has not yet

touched the human heart?

THE CRUEL LIGHT WITHIN

The thick, night silence presses on my ears,

while the hissing, whooshing rhythm

in my head measures out a cadence

in sync with my heart, sending buzzing

pulses of bright silvery light blinking

in my eyes, penetrating the ebony darkness

that squeezes in on my head, and brutalizing

the quiet solitude of my lonely evening

with an intense and insistent, repetitive blast

like a cruel and sarcastic neon sign deep

within my skull, flashing the mocking message:

“Alone”… “Alone”… “Alone”…

THE PAST

Why won’t the past fade away?

Let the ancient tears grow cold

and my blood clot and lump,

while my aging flesh turns to dust

and my eyes cloud over

to all that has gone before.

Why won’t the past just die?

Let the sun morph to black

and the stars blink out,

as the spring rain ices to winter

and the gold and silver

dry and rot into brown rust.

Why won’t the past disappear?

Let all the music turn to noise, and

laughter become an ear-splitting screech,

as the melodies whither to howls

and the harmonies of sweet joy

shrivel down into a cry of sorrow.

Why won’t the past fade away?

Why won’t my past just go away

and die… Oh just let it die!

KENNETH NORMAN COOK

KENNETH NORMAN COOK was raised in Southern California in the 1960s. It was there that he began to fall in love with words, through a sixth grade English assignment to write a poem about Halloween. His entry was selected to be published in the school newsletter and that started him on a lifetime sojourn through the creative world known as poetry. After living away for many years, Kenneth is back in California, where he continues to write daily. He is a regular contributor to several magazines, has been featured in numerous recent poetry anthologies and has released a newly revised edition of his poetry collection, Shadow Walk With Me. He is also the author of a second book, This Side of Nothing, as well as a third; a collection of haiku and senryu poetry, entitled Theater of the Absurd. Here is a writer with over one thousand poems in his writing arsenal. Be prepared for a literary roller-coaster of emotions, imagery and intense imagination, for this is the poetry of Kenneth Norman Cook.