My World and Words

Shaken Not Stirred by Ken Allan Dronsfield
Ken Allan Dronsfield
Words, words, words! Without them we are taken back in time to sitting around a fire in front of the cave grunting through gnawing on a bone. My journey began at around thirteen years old when I started playing the guitar and decided to write my own lyrics to music. I wrote for some years, but then life took the front seat and my poetry and lyric career sat in the car seat for some years.

Through my military career, I played the guitar but found the lack of time for writing was frustrating. After children, bad jobs, a divorce I decided to drive commercial trucks all over the US and Canada. It was an experience to remember. Seeing this country, the people, places and things, fed my imagination and after retiring well over ten years ago, I decided to write poetry once again.


Some of my inspirational poets and writers have been Shakespeare, William Butler Yeats, Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Frost and in recent times, Leonard Cohen and, of course, "the Bukowski". I write poetry in a "minimalist" style....in other words, I keep it short. I rarely complete a poem of more than 24 lines, most are kept to 12 to 20 lines. For some reason, it is ingrained in my mind to get the message out in as few words as possible.


Most of my work touches on Nature... but I also enjoy writing inspirational quotes, some light horror, visionary and pieces I'll just call "out there". One of my visionary pieces would be:

Shaken Not Stirred

In an evening transcending;
a lonely heart not adjusting
as the rabbits play at chasing
shadows in flat mottled grass.
Warbling of self-righteousness,
fragile screaming in mourning
echoing within a mirrored eye,
the abominable crispy breath.
Flame to the wick ignited but
the candle dreams of darkness
entombed within subtle empathy
grasping Faeries adrift so high.
Pastel orbs traversing souls,
a percolated sadness avowed,
my mutation reeks of intensity
of a journey shaken not stirred.

I have, most recently, begun going through some of my poems and reformatting them into Formal Sonnet's, Pantoum, and Villanelle poetry forms. Most of my work would be considered traditional in style, some rhyming, but mostly of a free multi-line verse. My poetry has been translated into French, Spanish, Albanian and Farsi. I will admit, Nature is where my heart truly resides as in this poem that I originally wrote for spring and rewrote for the autumn solstice.

With Charcoal Black
i
Today I'll travel to the swamp and wood
to do a little autumn sketching for my
painting projects during the cold winter.
As I pack my thermos and bag, I see
snail trails leaving the autumn garden.
ii
Cooler breezes beget browner grasses;
lichen and moss cover the old stone wall,
I swear a little chipmunk ran by just now.
Crows are busy in their murder covens.
The songbirds leave daily for warm skies.
iii
Smells of the forest still musty and damp
colored leaves fall, a winter’s quilt woven
Ice sheets now form in the ponds as geese
happily swim throughout coolish waters.
Frogs and turtles hibernate until spring.
iv
A puff on the pipe, and a sip from the flask,
take out my sketch pad from the canvas bag.
Deer moving through the hemlock swamp.
It's time to capture, using a charcoal black,
the precious moments on this autumn day.


Here is an example of a Sonnet, 14 lines, 10 syllables per line.

Earth Cries... Heaven Smiles

The white rose petals are gently falling
floating slowly down to the bare cold ground
purple lilac's open; inhale the sun
lovely essence of both waft all about.
Red ladybugs are dancing leaf to leaf
the dragonflies sit alert on a post
red robins dodging colored leaves on lawns
my old cat naps in warm sunlit windows.
Grandfathers snooze; reflect life in old chairs
our Savior kisses a cool wrinkled cheek
the children run while playing in the yard
welcome back home to the autumn solstice
whereas the earth now cries; the heaven smiles
our summer now ends, but our fall begins.

Since beginning my quest to seek official publishing of my work less than two years ago, I have been blessed to having 800 poems published as well as several flash fiction pieces. My work was nominated for "the Best of the Net and I have two nominations for "the Pushcart Award" for 2016. I've written one book, "The Cellaring" a collection of 80 poems touching on the haunted, horror, paranormal, weird and wonderfully odd. It is available through my publisher, Creative Talents Unleashed or through Amazon.com. The book is also registered with the Library of Congress. I've worked as a Co-Editor for two Poetry Anthologies, "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze" and "Dandelion in a Vase of Roses" both also available through Amazon. I'm working on two new books and am currently seeking publishers.

I write because I feel the need. I will not, nor to I seek riches or world-wide acclaim. I do it as a legacy for my children and grand-children. I feel wealth or property is simply material things, my poetry 'lives' and always will, long after I'm gone.

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