Friday, December 1, 2017




A dream of her hand
reaching across the miles
and through the darkness
as I stand in trembling paralysis,
frozen to the spot
and unable to touch.
A dream of her smile
flashing throughout the sky
and lighting up the night
while I lie in silent stillness
like a lifeless body;
mute as a corpse.
A dream of her eyes
resurrecting the dead
and curing the sick
as I wait in ill and dizzy patience,
catching but a glimpse
of the beauty that
could heal all my wounds
and restore my soul
to perfect wholeness
once more.


Those days of warm, radiant sunshine,
as we strolled along the rocky cliffs at the lighthouse,
while the cool ocean breeze fanned our faces,
and you placed your pale, nervous hand in mine.

Do you still remember?
Does it still matter to you?
Do you still think about it?
Do you still care?

Those evenings of carefree, bohemian abandon,
as we lounged happily on my bed, with pizza and movies,
while the ignored clock ticked off the forgotten hours,
and we opened our souls to each other in free, trusting love.

Do you still remember?
Does it still matter to you?
Do you still think about it?
Do you still care?

Those nights of lustful, hedonistic, sensual pleasures,
as we surrendered our bodies to the ways of the pagans,
while the darkness kept the secret of our fiery passions,
and we spent ourselves with hot, moist, slippery whispers.

Do you still remember?
Does it still matter to you?
Do you still think about it?
Do you still care?

She comes to me.
How welcome is her smile; her eyes.
Like the first warming rays from the sun's face on a chill morning.
Like the trickles of water that meander under my feet as the spring slowly melts the stubborn winter ice.
Like the bright stars that pop out one-by-one from the velvet blackness of the night.
How welcome is her smile; her eyes; her face; her warmth.
She comes to me.


KENNETH NORMAN COOK is an American, born in the United States and raised in California in the 1960s. (English is his native language.) It was there in Southern California, in grade school 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, including Wildfire Publications Monthly Magazine, where he is a co-contributor for a section on tips for writers. He has been featured in numerous 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, a third: a collection of haiku and senryu poetry, titled Theater of the Absurd, and a fourth: From Dark Corners and Dusty attics, which is a combination of older poems, both previously published, as well as published for the first time. 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.

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