poems by Rudolf Kurt Penner

Church Fondler

There he am, planning his attack;
the subtlist attack ever known to man,
the piano ––
will play a part
the fanatic molester will go down,
in a heap of flames
in front of everyone he touched the girl

I looked up sexual fondling on the net
this position was not found
there is no mention of it:
touching a 14-year old girl’s waist
and moving both hands up and down
while comforting her about an issue

I watch and while I’m watching,
I can’t believe this is happening
I think: you think you’re getting away with this, but you’re not.

Was she his granddaughter, niece, or church member’s daughter

so clever, not to touch her breasts
but sliding ever so close
same latitude

and smugly suppressing his smile

how long have you been doing this, buddy
not touching breasts or bums or cunts

this poem is owned and operated by Rudolf Penner
©2019 Rudolf Penner

May 12, 2019 Posted by | girls and trees; flowers and bees, social commentary | , , , | Leave a comment

Christmas in July

If you have the Presence of mind
I recommend – Christmas in July
coming to you from Down Under
the rabbits bring the thunder
Have you ever met a Richmond rabbit
You should get in the habit
they eat the little blades of grass
on Minoru Boulevard
it’s a present that doesn’t need wrapping
They’ll also pose for photographs
no matter how good your camera is
I used a phone
and no one said hello

Take out three semi-precious stones
any weekend in July
and the magic will happen
take your alligator shoes
and hide inside: a bottle a’ booze
‘could be Absinthe – ‘could be Chartreuse
Let the Celebration begin
Perhaps Three Dog Night could sing
Jeremiah was a bullfrog…
and all your long-lost stable friends
could have a picnic on the grass

If you borrow all those unused dog baggies
– they’re green you know
You could make a plastic Christmas tree
for all we know: Love is All You Need
if you start before Santa gets there
you’ll get no pudding

The Christmas whistles will blow
throw down the odd “ho ho”
and watch a movie: like: Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July (1940)
join your neighbours in a dance
see the two-horned reindeer prance
It’s all up to one-and all

Chomp out some dandy yule log
with the roaring digital fireplace on the screen
hell, take the rollercoaster if you can
bring some pots and pans
and plink and bang upon them like some Tinkerbell
wear you favourite Mrs. Santa suit
or bring your horn and give a toot

Soon you’ll fill with Christmas Cheer
‘cause soon Old Santa will be here
he’ll dance around and spring
and join the picnic like some Roaring Rasputin
And fill his pipe with solar flare
and go raring through the sky at 9 pm

Look at the old photo albums
when you were 2 or 22
and remember your long-lost compatriots

Dream the Dream of Santas past
and hope the sunny skies will last

Call London, call Rome
shovel up after the reindeer and call home
Sweeten up with some Turkish Delight
and set up some candles for the night
they’ll twinkle like a million stars
when seen by strangers from afar

© 2018 Rudolf Penner


Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July Trailer

How to make a yule log


July 24, 2018 Posted by | All Poems, social commentary | Leave a comment

Without Their Consent

Telling people what to do without their consent

Drives ‘em all around the bend

2 grand won’t pay for the way a person feels

4 grand won’t pay for ‘em to ‘eal (heal)

Tight-lipped with no Voice and no Freedom

You may as well have left them bleeding

8 miles down there’s a horse and carriage riding

in the Underworld, that’s why it smells like shit   on  the way to freedom

There is a river and a man with bow and quiver

       taking aim, yet no arrow

nodding for justice and not begging pardon

16 miles along the road to higher learning

there’s a dip , and a ruby mist

waiting to be born on the wings

of a red-breasted meadowlark: soldier bird*

There is unharvested land where nothing is canned

and serpents await the plowing  whereupon

they go out into the fields

older than the leaves of the gingko biloba*

I sit and dream of all the four-leaf clover

it may not pay for all my pain

but sun may smile, and then again

tight-lipped freedom is no freedom at all

on the hind legs of Tatu’s* ball

© 2000 Rudolf Kurt Penner (name of blackbird, and research added April 16, 2018)

lyrics for potential song

*(Leistes militaris) Trinidadian: “soldier bird”: a black bird with a red breast. Also seen in Costa Rica, Peru, Brazil and Nicaragua (Formerly called red-breasted blackbird, but it is not a member of the red-winged blackbird family)

*gingko biloba: a type of leaf from which is made a supplement that helps clear thinking and blood circulation

*Tatu virando bola: a type of armadillo that can roll itself into an armoured ball when in danger. Native to Brazil   https://youtu.be/-x71UlnYVEU name of video:

“Tatu virando bola, Armadillo rolls into a ball – In the wild Brazil”

April 25, 2018 Posted by | All Poems, social commentary | , , , , | Leave a comment

the pussywillows

in the window, dying to get out

I left the door open

November 16, 2017 Posted by | All Poems, flowers and trees; girls and bees, nature, plain & simple, wild and free | Leave a comment

Too tired

The hardwired highway twisting, rushing

A few trees from the reflected light

of beams on the road

November 16, 2017 Posted by | All Poems, plain & simple | , , , | Leave a comment

it’s Athabascan weather

so get out your furs

the wood heat curls around you like a warm cat

November 16, 2017 Posted by | All Poems, nature, plain & simple | , , | Leave a comment

lost among the ruins

lost among the ruins  Old Gordon Lightfoot plays the fools
and fools are in the show and shoes are in the school
fouling up the lockers, scaring all the schoolgirls
webfeet wetness and street sense smartness
calling coo-cooing through the fields
with trees on their side
and old wagon wheels rotting between
the long grasses

I grew my cherry on a tree that grew and grew
beside a children’s playground. And hardly
any one knew it was there, just my pet detective

west among the flowers I dot my q’s and p’s
and fools are lost among sloughs and snowmobiles in the great outdoors
messing up the scenery, ticking off the animals
snoeshoe webness and backpacking hardware
tempting Natures’s own strict laws
4000 ft above the ground
timber lying across
the boy’s skinny legs

I grew up but never compare my growing
to the maturity of others my age and older
we were not fond of each other. they all knew
it and we knew and slandered each other

© 2017 Rudolf Penner

October 5, 2017 Posted by | esoteric/unintelligible, nature, Not Fade Away, social commentary | 1 Comment

from catch yourself falling listening to Elvis

make the most, they say, of your friends

and Bobby Zimmy will reward you in the End

even though he got SAVED some time ago

and some don’t trust him anymore


© 2013 Rudolf Kurt Penner


from the poem: catch yourself falling listening to Elvis

(ask for the rest)

April 28, 2016 Posted by | All encompassing, esoteric/unintelligible, making speeches/Soapbox, spiritual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ode by Lewis Carroll = me

the chocolate eight
of a cake of chocolate cherry
the magic buttons on the silver coat
turned twice
and presst against the breast of society
the cake was great – as a matter of fact
it was all we ate

the cherry turned full-round on its heel
and rolled into the cup of orange peel
and then a cup of tea

Something cannot take away the joy
of cake of chocolate; not a hater or a debater

not a Wilmhing winer of a dine
the hourglasss and the end of the old oak table
stained brown

the cake remains a perfect harmony
unto itself

©2016 Rudolf Kurt Penner

April 28, 2016 Posted by | esoteric/unintelligible, Not Fade Away, wild and free | , , , , , | Leave a comment

Tall Order. drinking 9.5% beer do you

hear the Christmas bells

The peacocks wish to show their wings, amid silver ornaments

The chrome of an old car coming in the rear view mirror

like a fountain pen no one would ever



The elevator is taking us up – its rich

walnut stain handrail – a comfort

to the blonde panelling with dark hearts


I wear a black shirt and underneath the hurt

I suck the straw of festive music

Like i was sitting on a throne in technicolor

Walt dizzily would listen to jazz

on Tall Order Wednesdays

at his favorite dive

percolating rhythms and aromatic espresso

into the blue stage with its golden horns

‘twas a hive of bees and birds

and thin rectangles of red stage lights

on the floor


like a fountain that never knew it was shut off

and hazelnuts never to be harvested, he hooked

his eyes into her lightly tanned face with its

green irises and blonde straightened

shined hair


Tall order. drinking with peacocks in the warm

sultry air by the salt sea

and silver and green iridescent wings


© 2013 Rudolf Kurt Penner

April 28, 2016 Posted by | esoteric/unintelligible, flowers and trees; girls and bees | , , , , | Leave a comment