Sunday Feature – Poems by Ken Gierke

Literary Revelations is proud to bring you the wonderful poetry of Ken Gierke. We hope you enjoy this feature.


Ken Gierke is retired and has lived in Missouri since 2012, when he moved from Western New York, where the Niagara River fostered a love for nature. He writes primarily in free verse and haiku, often inspired by hiking and kayaking, while his fondness for love poetry may be explained by the fact that he moved to Missouri to be with the woman he eventually married. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming both in print and online in such places as Ekphrastic Review, Amethyst Review, Silver Birch Press, Trailer Park Quarterly and The Gasconade Review. It has appeared in several print anthologies, including three from Vita Brevis Press and those edited by d. ellis phelps, Susi Bocks and Colleen Chesebro. His first collection of poetry, Glass Awash, has been published by Spartan Press. He blogs at

On the Cusp

I watch from the brink
as roiling waters touch
the base of the falls,

watch the maple bend
its branches to kiss the leaves
that lie at its feet.

Wind-tumbled leaves will crest
those falls, embrace the waters
that wait below.

I breathe the mist
that hangs motionless,
await the promise of new buds.

The tree stands tall,
the precipice remains,
my life on the cusp.

In Stillness

Where else would I want to be
than here, on quiet water?

The air, not so silent,
is filled with birdsong,

one chorus followed by another,
led by cardinals’ call and response.

Louder and more insistent,
tufted titmice give voice.

A kingfisher passes by,
trilling out its lonely answer.

The only other sound
is the stroke of my paddle.

With stillness that holds such sounds,
where else would I want to be?

Published by Literary Revelations Publishing House

An independent press dedicated to showcasing the best literary work. We publish poetry, short stories, art, interviews and novels.

40 thoughts on “Sunday Feature – Poems by Ken Gierke

      1. “Las hojas azotadas por el viento coronarán
        esas cataratas y abrazarán las aguas
        que esperan debajo.

        Respiro la niebla
        que cuelga inmóvil,
        espero la promesa de nuevos brotes”.

  1. Ken, I like the bookend water poems, one from the waters of the falls and one from the waters of the river. Nicely done and, as always, thoughtful in its communing with nature and its application to living one’s life.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: