In Memoriam: Two Poems for Ray Bradbury by Ken L. Jones

Today's guest is poet, horror author and comic book scribe Ken L. Jones. A short bio is included at the end of this post, but to add some context to the poems, Ken had the opportunity to meet Mr. Bradbury so these are memoirs of a friend as well as honorary words from a fan. The first poem is written in memoriam, the second was written by Ken wrote a couple of years ago for Bradbury's birthday and was passed on to its honored subject by a mutual friend. 

Dirge for Ray Bradbury

by Ken L. Jones

Red Planet nighttime

Strolls along a beachside as it fades away

Into everything all at once

A spoonful of campfires lights my way

That has the rhythm that burns all books

And like a merry-go-round reversing at super speed

He is gone, he is gone

And from what was once like a carnival of snow

Falling on the earthlings below

He says here’s to all the dreamers

Who are still alive now carry on

And now it is time for me to go

To be the singer of the poetry

Of what awaits us all on the other side

My words are my voice I have left behind

Be good to one another

Oh man be kind

Until I see you again some other time

The Man Who Photographed A Painting of Suddenly The Impossible Happened

(For Ray Bradbury)

 by Ken L. Jones

　

Empty rusty iron beaches

Whose cliffs are like Buddhas

That have lost their heads

Offer me a penny

For my kick the can

Floating thoughts

But I tell them I am too busy

Reading a copy of

Jack In The Beanstalk

That I saved from the fires at

The library at Alexandra instead

While I make a breakfast

Of the glistening White Chapel fog

That twirls around my head

I am strangely sad

Like a shadow puppet

I am unrecognizable in all

That I will never understand

I want to be more unreal

Than a tape recorder

I want to be more than pouring raindrops

Twirled by a ceiling fan

I have yet to find out if there is a Statue of Liberty

On the dark side of the moon

Or why Alpha Centauri

Performs a ballet in the summer sky

I want to live forever

Like I was a comic strip character

I want to pull out the intestines

From the word goodbye

But the open sea’s crashing waves

Walk about on stilts made of riptides

That end in shoes of tangled kelp

Night is coming on

Like a lost child unbidden

Yet my muse has on

A kimono that is very Dionysian

As it parts to reveal

All that I have ever

Truly wanted or care about or felt

I am grown old and my body betrays me

But like Quixote

At windmills I continue to tilt

Still blessed with a child’s imagination

After nine decades

Screaming with joy like Tarzan

As I race on foot

Across the African veldt.

About Today's Guest: Although he has been writing professionally for over thirty years and does every kind of writing you can imagine from comic books to doctoring movie scripts Ken L. Jones considers himself first last and always a poet which doesn’t mean that he doesn’t find time to write a lot of horror and other genre style short stories too. His work has appeared in many of the fine Static Movement anthologies of late as well as such companies as Red Skies Press and Panic Press too and to answer your question yes he did have the opportunity to become friendly with the great Mr. Ray Bradbury back in the days when Ken was a famous cartoonist who used to attend the San Diego Comic Con as did Mr. Bradbury.