Author: JWKS

Up In The Air

~ JWKS

There’s a restaurant in Niagara Falls
that sits atop a tower more than 60 feet

up in the air.

Slowly the restaurant revolves in a circle
revealing the stunning unique terrain
to the patrons inside.

A lovely young woman
is sitting across the table from me,
a high-school senior, like myself.

Our orbits have been intersecting
for the past three years,
a conjunction reflecting the transit of Venus.
Bodies in motion tend to stay in motion.

The transition to adulthood is intense
and still uncertain.
But the subtle music of her smiling eyes
beguiles the flight of troubled times.
Bodies in motion tend to stay in motion.

The waiter brings a fat red menu,
boasting a black tassel and slim straight string.
We are easily the youngest couple
caught in this tourist trap.

Were the lobsters on our dinner plates ever tourists
before the last slip of the trap’s latch?
We’re drinking champagne, the bubbles rising slowly and gently
as the yellow elevators riding on the side of the tower.

Although the views outside the window are spectacular,
the attention of my lens is an attempt to apprehend
all the benefits and blessings that her presence could foretell

to behold and be held

We are all going,
Going round and round
in circles

up in the air

(c) Ken Sullivan, 2020

Sharon

~ JWKS

When vulpine, voluptuous Miss Sharon Redd
first entered the room, I went heels-over-head.

In a soft, suede, short-sleeve, short-short one piece
lovely light limber-lithe legs exposed,
hyper hip shoes and painted red toes,
Miss Sharon Redd entranced my apartment,
a hurrysome whirl of womanly woes.

Vividly I remember the first time
when she breezed in, those high check bones!
Full red rich lips, O those twins that singed l’amour
Sur toute les choses. 

In a Virginia-accented sweet speaking voice,
easily laughing at life absurd.
Dishing the dirt but fairly, discreetly
with the inflection of sensuous birds.

One morning after staying up all night,
to the Pierre for breakfast we went.
Cafe-au-lait with my cafe au lait lady
Lay, lady, lay, on my big brass bed
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.

Singing, SINGING!
The girl has some mighty righteous pipes
Stunning honey running past the haunting pain,
Sung through panes of stained glass windows
Summer winds summoning the mourning rain.

Love at first sight does exist.
Long before the lips have kissed,
Comes desire that will persist
Until some becoming bliss
Leaves you with someone to miss
When the Miss turns into missed.

(c) Ken Sullivan 2020

Of Goldman Sachs and the Many Sacks of Gold

~ JWKS

 

 

Of Goldman Sachs and the Many Sacks of Gold

 

All that glitters is Goldman Sachs.

The path of wealth a wealth of rats attracts.

Blankfein pays a bank fine as a frank sign that

                                                                                 banking is tanking

                                                                                 as an ethical endeavor.

Fraud is never never fraud

if you’re clever and you’ve sawed

all the regulators and restraints in half

infatuated with the Golden Calf.

And by filling politicians pockets

with the purloined platinum rockets

so provided to propel their next campaign

Here’s an observation from the great Mark Twain:

Some people don’t think very much of our Congress,

but I disagree.

I think we have the very best Congress

that money can buy.

 

 

 

 (c) Ken Sullivan, 2020

 

 

In Darkest Night

~ JWKS

 

 

In Darkest Night

 

In darkest night, a clear insight

will often come to some while sleeping,

the stirring of an inner light. 

In darkest night a clear insight

will seem to set the world aright

The benefit of tea through steeping

In darkest night, a clear insight

will often come to some while sleeping.

 

 

(c) Ken Sullivan 2020

 

 

Eros and Oneiros

~ JWKS

 

 

Eros and Oneiros

 

They have more than a nodding acquaintance, 

a knotting acquaintance perhaps, 

with the dreamer in love with the lover 

and the lover lost, dreaming enrapt.

 

O Eros in Oneiros

 

Eros wafts his stinging spears, 

whispers in Oneiros’ ears

which rich visions will delight

the dreaming denizens of night.

 

O Eros in Oneiros

 

The dreamers soon are introduced

to those who have, or wish seduced

And as the nights make their progressions,

the dreams succeed with their successions. 

 

O Eros in Oneiros

 

On the shore of once before,

passed the grasp of Nevermore,

with Oneiros as hired guide, 

and Eros in the air astride.

 

O Eros in Oneiros

 

Collapsing with laughs in the laps of the past,

while the dreamer is streaming what never can last. 

 

O Eros in Oneiros

 

 

(c) Ken Sullivan, 2020