Poem Submitted to Wergle Flomp Humor Poetry Contest


Time masters my world.

The clock spins at dizzying speed

The seconds thunder by

When I need them –

Creep past at snail’s gait

When I wish to speed them.

Webinars are too long,

My eyes glaze over.

Deadlines come too soon –

The report is due when?

To read for an hour is either

An age or an ephemeral blip.

Yes, time masters my world –

But I need twenty-eight hours in a day.

Rainstorm in Juarez

A blast of wind

Blows signs, trash, and sand

At the Rio Grande.

An electric flash

Stops a burlesque show –

Darkens the corner bar.

Watched from a leaking shop

The frantic scrambling

As the torrent

Scrubs the streets free

Of people and debris.

Flooded gutters, thunder,

Traffic snarl

And drizzle provide escort

To those returning home.

Submitted to The Desert Exposure Writing Contest in 2022 – Won an honorable mention in the poetry category.

Submitted to Poetry Contest, the Poetry Society of So. Carolina, January 26, 1971 – Fenton R. Kay


The multi-layered chocolate cake

Was dropped,

And the layers

Bent and slid and crumpled.

Look at those mountains

In the morning light?

You think they were

Dropped on that lake?


Sinuously sliding, the snake

Looped and threw his coils.

Traversing the sand from north to south,

He points north-northeast.


Geese in a wheatfield

Feeding, gabling, moving on.

Claude’s family scanner.

Comment 2

The sun and the moon

Make a day complete

And brothers, a family.


Silken ropes that span

The space where dust slowly drifts.

Cobwebs by my desk.

Dust Bowl

On the edge of the desert

They viewed the sand

Blowing – and one said,

There goes the land –

If there was water

There might be trees.

Written 9/3/91 or thereabouts


Bright, clear –

The breeze from the bay

Moves up the hill.

What a treasure –

The world is pleased today.


Singular – at once obvious.

Your presence shouts!

There are not many

Who dare to stand out.


There you are

With green eyes

And flaming hair.

My soul lies bare

Within your gaze.

This is my very first poem – an epic written as an assignment for English, my Jr. year in H.S. – 1959

The Song

The Viking’s call

O’er the Norseland rings,

Odin, Odin,

He wildly sings.

His song is wild

But full of dreams.

Dreams of woods

And gilded streams.

A great black log

Where once he rest

And strung a shaft,

His bow to test.

A graceful doe

And fawn did play

On a meadow there,

Carefree, gay.

The grass was green –

Did swing and sway

In gentle breezes,

Like unmown hay.

A bird raised voice,

Warbled and sang.

Sang of spring

In love’s sweet slang.

A roe deer stag

Forward did step,

Testing the air,

Forward he crept.

Twang did the bow,

The shaft it sped;

It struck in flesh;

Blood ran red.

Again sighed peace.

The test was passed.

On he moved,

On to the last.

Dreams of peaks,

Of craggy rocks,

Jagged teeth

Caves like pocks.

Where Gods abound

On snowcapped peaks,

And eagles fly

To scream and shriek.

Dreams of fjords

Walled by cliffs,

With cataracts

That roar down rifts.

Down to the water

Deep and cold,

Ventured in only

By brave and bold.

Of sailing there

In a dragon ship.

Down to the sea

On a plunder trip.

The way he fought

Their blood ran cold.

“Kill then all,

Young or old”.

Returning home, Booty full,

And not one loss

Was in their hull.

Home to the fjords,

The woods and knolls,

The craggy peaks,

The caves and holes.

All these dreams

Are in his song –

His song of lust,

Of life lived long.

A life of blood,

And tender love,

Of dragon ships

And plunder trove.

This song no more

Will he sing.

He died that day,

To steel’s cold ring.

Three Haiga by Fenton R. Kay




Published Online at EskimoPie.net – Feb, Mar, & April 2019

Six Haiku by Fenton R. Kay 

Your Old Adobe

Squat, white mud house.

Someone’s labor bore it;

Child of earth and sweat.


New Day

The sun rose today,

And my eyes were brighter than

Its glint on that stream.


On Being A Student

Working hard to know

What others already know,

Then adding to that.


Sonoran Desert

Winter storm torrents –

Rain-soaked earth brings a lily

To the summer’s kiln.


Dust Devils

On shimmering flat

Hot and cool air – vortex formed.

Desert Gods on tour.


Linnets on My Feeder

Crew-cut kid begging

And red-faced dad avoiding –

Fledgling feed yourself!

Published online in Eskimo Pie – January 2019


A Batch of Poems from Down the Years

Sierra Sunset

Coffee in hand, I gaze west.

Sierra sunset watched

From my quiet room.

Trees on nearby ridges –

As stubble on my morning jaw.

Sky’s edge yellow

Turning to blue –

Toward black.

Silent green and brown

Hills and ridges slowly darken.

I belong here

In this valley closed

Around by sagebrush,

Pinyon splashed hills.

The smell of sage –

The quiet of sunset –

Unpublished – 1980’s – Fenton R. Kay


On Being A Student

Working hard to know

What others already know,

Then adding to that.

Unpublished Haiku – Late 1990’s – Fenton R. Kay



Hate –

Glowing fiery

In the breast

Of one you love.

Muscles tense –

Eyes begin to smolder

Red as a blooded


Foul words


Like living

Coals from a


His body shakes,

As with fever –

And a gap

Is widened

Between brothers.

Published in The NEVADAN, Sunday, April 15, 1968 – Fenton R. Kay



Superior to all on earth

Is man,

As by his hearth

He sits – and there reviews

His worth, while chimpanzees use

Sticks as tools –

And evolution continues.

Fenton R. Kay – Published in The NEVADAN, Sunday, July 14, 1968. – Fenton R. Kay


Act II, Scene I

Swishing softly

Through the trees –

The wind.

Dancing lightly

Down the vale –

The brook.

Watching brightly,

Eyes aglow –

A child.

Fenton R. Kay – Published in The NEVADAN, Sunday, March 18, 1968.



We stand and view
The fog roll in –
Behind the spume
Another wave.

The wave rolls in
Against the cliff
And gives the wind
Its foam and spray.

The fog moves up –
Up and over;
And fills the cup of sea to full.

Fenton R. Kay – Published in The NEVADAN, Sunday, June 2, 1968 – Fenton R. Kay


The Grass

The grass is growing,

Watch it rise!

It writhes and twists,

Bends and bows.

Now this way,

Now that,

It hurls its pleading

Seeking blades upward.

Listen to it growing!

Its hoarse shrieks;

Painful groans;

Heart-rending sobs.

Growth ends.

Full maturity.

Proud blade among many.

Brawny blade in summer sun.

With autumn’s chill

It withers and shrinks,

Wilts and molds.

Sinking back –

Returning to dust,

As everything will;

It served its purpose –

Made the world green.

Unpublished – 1960-61 – Fenton R. Kay


Desert Storm

The dark clouds drop

Rain lightly – or thrash the earth –

There is no pain.

Gaia takes the falling drops


Unpublished – 1990s – Fenton R. Kay


March Winds

March winds still must blow

Across the land and make a show.

Like a politician blows his horn,

And takes the land by barnstorm.

Unpublished – Early 1960s – Fenton R. Kay


Winter Thought

The sharp-fanged cold

Has a firm hold

On the tender

Throat of the land.

Published in The NEVADAN, Sunday, March 18, 1968 – Fenton R. Kay



I searched for many

Years –

What I sought

I never found.

What I found

I never sought!

I searched for man.

I found



Unpublished – Early 1960s – Fenton R. Kay



A gull screams in insolent


As in passing by, we disturb

His fishing.

With full sheet to the


We wend our way


Over the ever-rolling


We venture in a sailing


Looking or and finding


The world has almost


Enjoyment, real enjoyment

And peace of mind we have


A thing much rarer than

Gold, Is man’s mastery of


And nature’s ever-changing


The wind guides us


The blue-green waters of

The Pacific.

The swells rock us to sleep

At night.

The sea is our only


And the deck of the boat

Our home.

Published or at least Submitted to something called Contact, Jan. 1963, also submitted to a poetry contest, The Poetry Society of So. Carolins, January 26, 1971 – Fenton R. Kay



Go like hell –


Flee with speed –

Hide from your pursuer.

Dash madly toward


Don’t get caught!

Run, hide, flee –

You can’t hide!

You can’t run fast enough!

You are fleeing

From yourself!

Published or at least Submitted to something called Contact, Jan. 1963 – Fenton R. Kay


Sight and Smell

Blossoms of indigo.

Spring breezes sigh.

But –

Brown, green, red,


Yellow still are.

Spring flowers

Nor breezes hide

The effluvium of war.

Published in the Univ. of Nevada, Las Vegas Yearbook, 1969 – Fenton R. Kay


These were submitted to poetry contests – never got a reply as far as I can recall.

Autumn in San Francisco

The night brings fog

That lifts by day.

Sunny days that show

Your houses, row on row –

Your bridges spanning

A gray-green bay.

Then the sun gets tired –

And the fog is hired

To mask and cover

Your dirt and rust.

Submitted to Poetry Contest – Marshall, Illinois, January 17, 1971 – Fenton R. Kay


Desert Storm

Towering thunderheads


Or slate-gray sheets


Thrashing torrents or

Silken mist

Come to the parched earth,

Which accepts the water


[There’s another version of this one] Submitted to Poetry Contest, The Poetry Society of So. Carolina, January 26, 1971 – Fenton R. Kay



The stoic young spire

Stood and stared at the

Starry-eyed, tottering old

Doubly frescoed doric.

An ancient colonial

Mansion wept bitter

Green ivy tears as

The plate glass palace of

Modern mode lorded

Life on a hill above.

The old crumbled and

Moldered into mossy


The new turned old,

Was replaced by newer;

Lost to newest and

Fell to ruined remains

And dust – dirge.

The dust packed, piled, and

Pressured into hard,

Harder, hardest stone

And sunk slowly out

Of man’s meager sight.

Stone is quarried for stuff to build from.

Buildings are built.

The new turns old –

The old totters and falls –

Turns to dust, to stone

To new.

Submitted to poetry contest, The Poetry Society of So. Carolina, January 26, 1971 – Fenton R. Kay