Kevin Scanlon

Kevin Scanlon Poems

Spring arrives in typical bipolar fashion
With a warm hug and then a chilly rebuff
Like a gasp of love then a sigh of despair
Every flower lives under threat of a freeze

He was born in Missouri when the Civil War was on
And moved to Cayce, Kentucky, as a boy
He was nicknamed for the little railway town
And his wooden train was by far his favorite toy.

It rises as if to meet the sun god halfway in the sky
Embraced by ever faithful grass and worshipful trees
On the Natchez Trace where many pioneer graves lie
Where Indian chants were once carried on the breeze.

Checked into the Daniel Boone Motel in Pikeville, Kentucky, while
Traveling alone and stretched my limbs which were pretty cramped
'Elbow room! ' as Dan'l would say, what a nice respite from psycho
Drivers and zoning out and now my bodymind can get revamped.

The air is as crisp as ripe apples and the low-lying sun is dazzling
The clamoring voices of summer are now just haunting echoes
Dead leaves skitter and whirl in the cool wind as if morbidly merry
Blankets of gray unfold in the sky and below it are growing shadows.

The fickle clouds are restive again after days of quietly drifting
In fair weather and under keen convective duress begin shifting
Rapidly into a towering and glowering aspect of an expanding riot
Across the sky against the clear blue order of peace and quiet.

Through the open door the clumsy crane flies come in
And perform their aimless aerial dance in the room
Before clinging to the wall as if waiting for something
To happen, they look a lot like giant mosquitoes

It's checkout time
Time to pack up and leave
Leave behind this seedy motel of life
'Cos life's upped its prices once too often

Pareidolia has some seeing a dark whale nuzzling a heart on Pluto
Though the romance of this distant world is now yielding to technology
Once the ninth planet, now just a dwarf but still huge in significance
It has ice volcanoes under blue skies and is largely crater-free.

Sometimes you still see the ghost of Casey Jones
Walking the rails where he met his brave end
Encircled by steam his eyes seem to beam
Looking for danger just around the next bend.

Twenty-three peeling columns prove the eerie beauty of decay
Their cast iron capitals serving as antique pots for wild flora
Twenty-three rooms, the roof and walls are all long gone today
Its wooden heart was destroyed but not its majestic aura.

The universe once had a symmetrical opening array of forces much like the symmetry
Of the original position in chess before the first pawn is pushed and then it exploded,
Hurling pieces of matter and energy across-the-board of spacetime (which science
Has finally found out is flat) , and the simple symmetry was lost while complex entropy

The Best Poem Of Kevin Scanlon


Spring arrives in typical bipolar fashion
With a warm hug and then a chilly rebuff
Like a gasp of love then a sigh of despair
Every flower lives under threat of a freeze
As old fascist winter can always storm back
For a day or two, but then it finally retreats
Surrendering the mornings and evenings
As its empire is conquered by summer.

Kevin Scanlon Comments

Kevin Scanlon Quotes

'Life is an endless problem solving exercise where you try to solve problems both major and minor while experiencing major and minor gains and losses that end with the greatest loss possible.'

Some take comfort in thinking that we are all doing the best we can, but according to neuroscience we are all doing the ONLY thing we can at every single moment. There's no free will, just the illusion that we think we can make choices.'

Kevin Scanlon Popularity

Kevin Scanlon Popularity

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