Ken e Bujold : Writing

The Original Dream

The Original Dream

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


I am meant to be walkingthrough light towards darknesstowards an endthe silenceof a thoughthalf-made waitingbirthwhat I imagineis to bereadfor the ver..
Sweet Corinna, A Confession

Sweet Corinna, A Confession

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


"in no way autobiographical"
Stop Then to Consider, A Templar's Prayer

Stop Then to Consider, A Templar's Prayer

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


Stop then to consider, and stand along the shore, make what you might of man's many unintended voyages, of all the ways in which you've sailed ..
The Trees Sound a Distant Thunder

The Trees Sound a Distant Thunder

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


The trees sound a distant thunder sweeping cross country, the quick reel of a long winter's hunger in a hurry to shovel every season before th..
Stray Thoughts Pressed Between Pages

Stray Thoughts Pressed Between Pages

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


I collect stray scraps of thoughts like scattered leaves whirling along an October lane. When the wind whistles through trees the declension..
Purgatory Explained

Purgatory Explained

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


This is not the test you intended to take. The pop quiz of an open book you hardly bothered to read. Whatever you imagined could wait, need..
An Infantryman's Last Gleaming

An Infantryman's Last Gleaming

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


The dull ache of a wound began to close almost before I sensed its gapping clue; a season turning, the slow ebb in time's continuum my first hesi..
Thoughts on a New British PM

Thoughts on a New British PM

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


"couldn't resist, thoughts on breaking news."
Sand Castles

Sand Castles

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


Old friend I remember now your drawing lines in the sand, blueprint for thesandcastle we intended to build once we'd mastered the intricacies of..
Northern Dancer, Run for the Roses

Northern Dancer, Run for the Roses

A Poem by Ken e Bujold


Before the Dancer, the great arctic coltof the crooked blaze and three white socks,slipped the border, running for the roseswas a fool's dream. Eighty..