This site exists to add to the pleasure of the world.
Should you dally at this site, your sense of the world as an astonishing, haunted, and altogether bedazzling place should increase … adding to your pleasure. Should you visit the individual entries, the counter that shows me the number of visitors who visit each page will climb, in turn triggering a rush of pheromones to my brain. Better yet, should we respond to the glory in our midst by taking off our shoes (And finding in God our deepest pleasure...Then He who finds great pleasure in Himself, may share of His bountiful joy... and the pleasure of the world will increase. (or something like that.)
People who know Kirk, do not think of him as a musician. That is because Kirk does not play any known instruments. He does, however, hear the most incredible music inside his head --- Something like Arabian-Celtic Rock, or the older hymns as sung by the trees.
As a musician who can not play any instruments, Kirk is forced to work out the music in his head through other means. He is a photographer by trade, and a poet by disposition. As a photographer, Kirk knows the ropes. He knows what his pictures will look like before he views them on the back of his digital camera. As a poet, he's lost. Kirk likes writing poems for the simple reason he has no earthy idea what he is doing --- so it still feels dangerous and fun.
This site holds what would be one very big book, or - a series of books born of a common source. Sometime before the last millennium I gathered together most of poems, along with a number of transcribed cassette-journal entries (those given to "odd thoughts" ) then threw them together in a big three-ring binder. I called my book "Bones in My Soul." That book later split. Several others are in the works.
It appears that I write in waves: The following is a quick chronological guide to my life and the stuff you may encounter.
With a few exceptions, the writing in this volume belong to one four periods.
1990-1991. Age 30-31. Took a college class in poetry. First attempts to distill mumbo-jumbo into coherent forms. Epoch ends in diapers and strong body of poems.
1997-2002. Age 37–42. Kids now feed themselves. Started with an effort to reclaim old journal entries. Followed by a explosion of new poems and an effort to remember the intermittent years of chaos and glory.
2003 and beyond. The poems have slowed to the point of rare. New energies given to the Mighty Works Project, a photo-based journal highlighting the ongoing artistry of Jesus - the Word. (Google: One Eye Kirk, Kirk Jordan Photographer, and/or The Mighty Works Project)
To all those who take the time to walk with me for a step or two along the way: Thank you. I appreciate your company.