We are the Parents of the poor
we give them food
and offer them free lessons in humility
if there were a chance
we could say “Jump”
and the thrill of responsive action
would lurk there
as our reward. Maybe if it rains.

On snowy days
Act like you’re giving alot
when you’re actually giving hardly anything at all
But the purple haze commands
And 13,000 more people without jobs
The doors of Eatons close forever
And the blanket of white powdery covers everything over.

A nice sunny sometime
with a rainbow and a pot of gold
and a tussle here brings us to the realization
in a New Day of Creation
Where the makers are they themselves
and the Cowboys all have earrings
riding over sagebrush widely in the country
That the sting of the thing is it don’t help.

© 1999 Rudolf Penner

You’re invited! Poetry Feast now!

photo by Jim Blair

Welcome to my poetry site. Here is a selection

from my writings. Please contact me

about the Rest. Check out my

Category: Explanations: Philosophies of Poetry

to find out how and why I write.

Kelly & Arielle discuss the artifact of Poetry (VIDEO)

Kelly & Arielle.

Listening – is the Greatest Thing

Listening to the greatest hits of the Doobies

with my leaf green-, yellow- and red-striped Parker pen in hand

the guitar, naked, parked against a crack-open dresser drawer

       perched like the sounds won’t come out

this long diatribe on the state-of-affairs

because of being the long version of ‘the best’

striped bacon ready to be ranch-fried

am I ready for Spring?    Are you?

fickle telephone books with their changing number, lying discarded on the floor

Come to think of it

        All things are planned

        thus the Doobies made it Big.

Here on April 7th, the weather rainy and impinging

Top-heavy like a topcoat at the start of summer

Listening – that is the greatest thing

© 2010  Rudolf Penner

Some websites, companies or internet points of interest to me

I am inspired by good quality companies, books, people, authors.

Here are a few links to ones I believe in.

Carson Books, Dunbar location, Vancouver, BC Canada

Carson Books, Kitsilano, Vancouver, BC Canada

old long-playing records (music: rock, pop, jazz) and interesting books

Kestrel Books on 4th Ave., Vancouver. Handy booksearch function on site

Pulpfiction, (bookstore) Near Broadway and Main St., Vancouver BC  (the Beat poets, literature)

Yelp.ca or Yelp.com (write or read hot reviews of local restaurants, businesses…) or read mine. I write under the name Rudolf P.

Balderson Cheese (a real Canadian cheese company)

The Cougar and the Chameleon Imaginary Writers group writing Friday afternoons. This Idea conceived of by me.

Juliet’s Room kind-enviromentally-conceived skin care products. Will ship. (that is Juliet of Romeo & Juliet)

Be The Rain – Cover this! No matter who you Are! then listen to the original by Neil Young and friends

ShuRaku Sake Bar and Bistro – fine Japanese service and morsels. Vancouver BC Canada

Blood is thick

Blood is Thick

blood is thick
but it’s not that thick

pudding’s thicker than blood
where does that leave Dr. Oetker: pudding maker:
at the rudder

going upstream, there’s alot of healthy energy
paddling its way to distribution centers
waking the puddles of dissolute stasis

blood is thicker than water
they wanted us to know
but what does pudding relate to?
enjoyment of fattening organisms?

there is no relative that will pick you up
sometimes there’s a pro
no brother or kin
to take out the voodoo pin

streams may be faster than rivers
but the Bloods can’t see the Crips*
for want of a better communication system
woiking the puddles of antiphantasy kangaroos

trying to stop a stream with a stick
is like paddling up stream
with the Pudding Doctor at the rudder
it’s relative to how you think

and then there’s blood pudding
ornery folks can eat it with lots of butter
not like a bratwurst at all
shovel it down if you’ve never had it before

one fellow I know has the odd pint of pig’s blood
gives him a boost of energy
it’s thicker than thin
how dreary and depleted
the ties of kin appear today
how weary the creeping workaholics
climb the next cliff

*Bloods and Crips: two rival street gangs in the United States

Poems for Antiquity

Hi poetry lovers! I have just released my new booklet of poems which is called: Poems for Antiquity. These poems were written in 2009 and published towards the end of December.

Crow’s Feather is one of the first poems in the book and is available on this blog by clicking on its title above.

Below are links to background on the subject matter discussed in the volume.

Poems’ Links:

foreword poem (first page)

As poets we bring out what is deeply troubling us. We hope it can be used to transform society.

reference: “70. Jesus said, “If you bring forth what is within you, what you have will save you. If you do not have that within you, what you do not have within you [will] kill you.” – The Gospel of Thomas (Gnostic Gospels)

alternative version: “70) Jesus said, “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

“What you don’t see WILL kill you.” – from the new Dracula: Dracula: The Un-Dead (2009) by Dacre Stoker (great-grandnewphew of Bram Stoker who wrote the original story of Dracula) & Ian Holt

One Poem to blow the mine

a take-off on Tolkien’s magic ring from the Hobbit/Lord of the Rings. Poetry can empower, be perceived as dangerous, induce changes, be precious to the conceiver. Those who write know the power of a poem and how it can seat you on the throne that is a perspective on our world, often that others may not share. If for some reason the poem hits its mark someone’s world may be blown apart or at least catalyzed.

The line: “One poem to blow the mine” also reminds me of Princess Diana’s work to eradicate land mines. A short statement by Lady Di here. To see a video of her detonating one of these, Click here. If anyone else had done this work they would have been condemned as a schmerorist! An informative YouTube video documentary on landmines.

Crow’s Feather

Crow’s Feathers

Thunderbirds

Blood is Thick

My father’s 2nd or 3rd cousin lived on Dr. Oetker’s estate in Germany in 1974. We stepped in, or rather drove thru the automatically opening iron gates that led to his property. We had taken a tour to Europe as a family that year and those distant cousins were quite baffled to be visited unannounced!

The ties of kin, which once were thick have thinned out completely for many.

My mother was a big fan of Dr. Oetker pudding putting it in recipes such as cream puffs, with half pudding, half whipped cream, layer tortes, or topped with home-made raspberry compote. So the Pudding Doctor played a huge role in our inner family cuisine and so I have immortalized him here – just in time too; most people have forgotten all about him. There is picture of him on the company website. He looks a little bloated.

Davidoff Magnums Review of the cigarette

Kathryn Kuhlman
Kathryn Kuhlman was a famous healer of the 1960s and 70s. Her audio sermons are available online. One source for these is the Kathryn Kuhlman Foundation. Video: Kathryn in action: video at YouTube

a Czar of East Vancouver

This is the news item that inspired the poem. Perhaps not this article exactly, but this was the somewhat distasteful news in the Downtown Eastside, where I live, circa February 2009.

beautiful image on Flikr.com

this image appeared in my blog while I was reviewing the section: girls and trees; flowers and bees

Crow’s Feather

She went hunting for Crow
long dark feathers are hard to find –
– They just come to you
Like a Thunderbird
At Crow’snest Pass she fell and broke her knee
It was just like her to look in unlikely places
Where the snow is hard
The ice on their tips bending them down to the earth
Like the larger bird who really wants to meet us
– tell us stories as Answers; give us truth myths
There are no fences (out) in the wilds of Canada
but many neighbouring trees
and straggling animals
– They just come to you
Like a wandering Walking Stick
full of carved patrons
the ice on the tips of their fur
hiding them like camouflage
like a Bloodhound she walked
casting her eyes about for the wing
if memories caught up with their own branches
passing through cold streams
and cliff-ends talking – Old Legends
perched on a Ledge – a Cougar
jutting out like a refined piece of antique jewellry
wondering about these memory-like shapes of
black feathery shapes floating down past
like a brother’s broken promise
poor grasshoppers just begging for attention
The softer beds in the forest where one hears everything
After sleep comes the break of day
And the narrative begins again, of how she found
the feather.

(optional reading: 4th to last line, change beds to bells)

Cinco de Mayo: May 5th, 2009

A reading of terrific poetry by myself and fellow poet Robyn Livingstone took place the evening of May 5th, 2009 at the Russian Hall in Vancouver, BC

The Mexicans overcame their enemies on this day, and we overcame the fact of a low turnout, but those who came enjoyed it.

join the facebook group: Riding the High Horse of Poetry

Poetry around the World hosted Chapters/Indigo Metrotown bookstore May 28

I read with the writers of Poetry Around The World on Thursday, the 28nd of May, 2009.

The poets met early at Starbuck’s Coffee, in the store for a chat.

Chapters/Indigo sells a book in which I have published one of my poems:

http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/Heart-Community-Best-Carnegie-Newsletter-Paul-Taylor/9780921586944-item.html?ref=Search+Books%3a+%2527new+star+press+carnegie+newsletter%2527

I See a Crooked $ Sign

I see a crooked $ sign in the distance
waiting for my arrival
from working those MARKETING PLANS,
helping others
and wasting the past
weathering the death storms
tired of keeping these eyes open
Hating paranoid Users
– looting the helpful poor.

There it looms, not green, but dusky brown
reddish in parts, like the blood poured over it to keep it safe
a worn sign made of diseased wood
gray actually – pretty faded,
pretty jaded
I seen jade in Lonsdale Quay today
and it was more precious
than any dollars I’ve ever seen