Kenneth Rowe
Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.
My day
I turn towards tomorrow, with no regrets for today. For today is nearly done. Have I given my all for today? Have I used, fully what has been given to me? Or did I acquiesce? Accepting this gift without an acknowledgment of it’s value, simply another day in a long line of days.
Kenneth RowePublished 14 days ago in PoetsA Turning
The trail lays littered with the leaves of this year’s turning. They bring a certain completeness to the cycle. A realization of our temporary part in this grand reality.
Kenneth RowePublished 28 days ago in PoetsWhispers
What secrets we tell, little confidences, whispered to one another with smiles and giggles. These are small secrets, light, some may last a lifetime, others for mer moments.
Kenneth RowePublished about a month ago in PoetsThe Awakening
In opening her eyes she became immediately disoriented. Things didn’t feel right somehow. The scene before her seemed foreign, she searched her memories trying to put down a base. Something to build upon, something to anchor her to this reality. She was starting to panic and she didn’t even know why.
Kenneth RowePublished about a month ago in FictionFree Reign
Don’t, reign me in. Give me the freedom I desire. That I deserve. Don’t anchor me with mundane responsibilities, forever pulling at my soul.
Kenneth RowePublished 2 months ago in PoetsAn Ancient Thing
They waited, patiently. They always had. Never allowing their hunger to rule over their need for stealth. Their absolute need to remain unknown. If the prey knew of them it would end them. The hunters would become the hunted. So they waited, ravenous. Their hunger becoming a lust towards their prey. Young, old, male, female, it made no difference to them. Although some secretly preferring the young females. Generally they were the easiest prey anyway. Their innocence was like a scent on the breeze, calling to them. Luring them from their many hiding places, to feast on the souls and the flesh of these young innocents.
Kenneth RowePublished 2 months ago in Fiction
Drinking from the bottle
Why must I, am I that lost? Does my lack of a plan, mean a lack of focus? Who decides my fate? Some obscure god? I think not.
Kenneth RowePublished 3 months ago in PoetsThe Minibike Incident
We were flying, the three horse Briggs and Stratton maxed out. Little did we know what was in store for us. It was the last day of school 1966. We had a plan. we were going to celebrate summer vacation, the mini bike was waiting.
Kenneth RowePublished 4 months ago in Fiction
