Paul Andrew McKenna. I live in Birmingham, England. I am 39. I am a painter who loves composing music and writing poetry. I suffer from Buddhist inclinations and walk hills - When the knee permits. I eat spinach. By the plateful.
Kite
Remember the moment the kite-string snapped:
startled into heaviness, earth-bound,
hopeless of knowing the endCopyright © 2002 by Paul Andrew McKenna
Wherever holes may form
Like the poplars I loved and lost to the axe
I'd assumed they'd all gone,
red-knecked woodpeckers;
gone and left bloody big holes -
in the heart
in the sky
wherever holes may form.
But he's doing his thing in the fir
which I hate
but wouldn't cut down
because of my love for treesCopyright © 2002 by Paul Andrew McKenna
With Hell to pay, demented
With Hell to pay, demented,
unaccountably offshore
I love my fellow man -
skimming over years
skinning bones in crazy places
with not the buckets he needs for all his tears;
battered, stacked and suntanned,
slipping off the backs of stars
till blank in heart, toppled,
tipping over all his craft
he swims and flails, swims and flails.Copyright © 2002 by Paul Andrew McKenna