poems by Rudolf Kurt Penner

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

Nelson the Seagull

Sitting at Nelson the Seagull
reviewing my tablet
setting and re-setting
and all beginning to seem like wasting time
snipping protocol at this/that website
slow-loading functionality
brain – much faster
surfers, surfing in
connections getting even slower –
got-to-get-me-one-of-those signal boosters,
rumour has it, some people engage

Coffee being handed from customer
to staff cook – why
smell of human fog, getting thick
Cards or canvas flags – strung across
the divide  several times
one inch tile  holding down the
warped illusion floor
and a creeping leaf-strewn carpet
matting the entrance
The sidewalk floor-washers are
outside:  my colleague gives me
a glint-and-a-wave
in his yellow rain costume

The man’s brown shoes
at the table next-to-me
go well with seemingly bleach-blonde
short hair – standing straight up
Across from me – the woman
with the long hair
shuffles-and-clacks the ends of the sheaf
to the long wooden table

this is a good coffeeshop

Vocabulary Link: * clacks
© 2014  Rudolf Kurt Penner

April 23, 2015 Posted by | All Poems, food, plain & simple | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Caring for the Coffeeshop

caring for the coffeeshop
where the owner is always present
or is presenting one of the employees he chose
working the internet
from his own free Wi-Fi
that is – it’s free for us,
the Cute customers
but he’ll always gather himself
up to serve a coffee
or arrange the pastries,
never getting lost on the net
like us Average Joe’s
The rough-worn bar whose sides just look old
and may indeed be old –
but brought in to enhance
the modern feel interior
decorator did a fine job, maybe himself
so fine even I am caring for the coffeeshop
in turquoise clay the mud is poured
dining in traditional Chinatown, now
leased to Whites and Browns
who’ll pay any price to open up;
unafraid of losing a couple hundred grand
how can people be unafraid of losing
a couple of hundred grand
and be so nice about it
at the same time
I gave myself an extra dime
to make a call from an extinct phone booth;
40¢ just wasn’t enough
to call the beach
where the Persian lackadaisical man informed the ocean
of his being
some girl tore to shreds
the remnants of his life
a wild ride
with real estate
he’s leaving he’s leaving
after weaving his tale

how can people be so cool
to work around the purer rule
of certainty and law
leaving their non-existent baggage
at the door
of science and nature

© 2015 Rudolf Kurt Penner

April 23, 2015 Posted by | All Poems, food, hoping for success, Not Fade Away, plain & simple | Leave a comment

Riders on the Storm

Someone playing Riders on the Storm
on the jukebox with my breakfast.
The early piano run tinkling right into my brain
filling my soul with meadows
and thinking of some guy named Andrew Beddows
I could’ve taken toast off numerous tables
or 1/2-deserted eggs
the place is full in such a way;
like tables full of mostly-finished food
and other tables with people
sitting there, mostly waiting for food
and one or two unhurriedly at the jukebox.

Their breakfast comes and they stay with the box
married to the tunes
It’s a day where people are
flush with money
ready to spend. Pit stop, and then
the everlasting energy to shop for a day

September 6, 2008 Posted by | All Poems, food, Not Fade Away, plain & simple, spiritual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Great Big Swan Eating Grass

Great Big Swan eating grass
Lost Lagoon is where he’s seen
never seen him up this close
walking through for one last swim
I am, at Sunset pool
dear Water: ride me
Ride me till I float
That orange bill on whiteswan head
is like an advertisement
Contrast the green grass he’s chewing
feel the hard gravel walk man has made
around his man-made lake
only a few feet deep
One last swim, but I’m going deep
Deeper to hear the last Rays of Summer
breathe on me from the West
Here an’ there a lazy child. not in school will swim by.

September 6, 2008 Posted by | All Poems, animal poems, Not Fade Away, plain & simple | , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment