The silence

Good day all

I was reminiscing about standing in front of an on looking crowd of people, Unsuspecting or suspecting of what I am about to rant and rave about. So I wrote a poem about my favourite part of being a spoken word artist and performer. Standing on stage, lights dimmed, wine glass in hand ( I have to have a small amount of pretentiousness) , ears not quite ready to be invaded by the poetry but also eager to listen. Now as I stand up there, This moment “The Silence” is what I am living in and for. I could stand in that silence of anticipation, of what’s and whys forever. Making the audience squirm with anxiousness until I speak those first syllable and start a set of poetry that will either explode or implode. How I miss it…….. THE SILENCE

The thing

The moment

I love, As a poet, As a lover



Between the words

Scattered through the breathing of every inhale into the exhale

Every lapse of emotion into the next SILENCE



That slices the momentary scenes, The watching eyes, the adoration of (what comes next?)

The confusion of (is there more?)






Holds onto everything and every body


Of a vampire stalking his prey


Of The lizard king swaying to “this is the end”


Of Dorian gray in-front of Dorian Grey


Gather Ye…..On this day / The Tale of Jack Frost

Here is a fun little rhyme to warm the heart, As the seasons change and the Moon ebbs and flows. Let us talk about myths and tales of old as we gather the plants in the gardens and push to boats out to sea.

Pt #1

Gather ye row boats while ye may

For death is upon us, with each passing day

I spoke to the sun, in the month of may

She warned me of the moon and what he would say

For he would be soon, pushing the waters closer to the bay

And all the cites would sink, and find dismay

The docks would break, and float away

Even the strongest of structure, would be released from the quay

A sailors song, is a mighty play

But even a voice of such power, can not sway

All of what the moon would throw our way

So gather ye row boats while ye may

The time is upon us, so don’t look away

The Tale of Jack Frost (Pt #2 )

Gather ye rose buds while ye may

For the seasons are changing on this day

There was a winter snap, that came this way

But now I find a rose bud, coming out to play

He danced on the snow, leaving his prints in such a beautyful way

That it glistened on the ice, when the sun reached the highest of quays

And the rose still danced, for the rest of the day

When the moon rose that night, It had something to say

“Go dance on the window, for the frost might sting your roots, for you  see little rose you have no boots”

So the rose went to the window, struck a tone and danced away

Leaving glistening root tracks all over the windows bay

That morning as the sun came out to play

She saw the busy patterns of the windows pane

The rose was still dancing, as happy and warm as the bright new day

Intrigue the sun ask the rose for his name

In response the rose pronounced, Jack frost is who I claim

And now you have heard the tale of jack frost

And how his patterns gather on the window pane

Twas a rose that gathered and danced through the cold winters nights

To bring such Beautyful patterns for us to keep in mornings sights

Watch “An Easter Story by MJ Keenan” on YouTube

Such profound insight of what Easter was and needs to get back too. We are here searching through winters and springs. Searching for purpose. Which the search becomes more bearable when we find the same searching light in others to help and find support within and outside us.

Stay positive and open

To Embrace the Existential of the Ethereal

Good day

Here is another poem from “The Ethereal Mansion” (My latest book release). We are still relaxing and reclining in the Room of the Existential that lingers in the Mansion. This poem is about the myths and truths and legends of what we call Life and all its brilliance and struggle. It name drops some of my favourite philosophers, Thinkers and Metaphors, in a picturesque way to release them into a new way of viewing what lies in the existential………..

The Birth of Tragedy

I do believe is something higher then this but I don’t know how to fly

so take me down, lay me down into the sky

and begin to transmigrate into the 3rd eye

Walk down that hall ways and open the doors of perception to find the universe sitting in infamy and infinitely in cased in dreams

you’ll find Soren Kierkegaard  and Fredrick Nietzsche sipping coffee in utter wondering of experience

as Aldous Huxley is Witting about A Brace New World and show us how society will be enshrined to this

 they will cry for white washed tombs and forget the beauty of their mothers wombs

As they devise the will to beat the world of Sisyphus and the life of struggle

They fight against the role of rolling the boulder up the mountain to have it all crash back down

Fighting against the very essence of nature, never finding peace

never to realize that we are born into the birth of tragedy

They are the example of plastic thinking

We must forget our fetters and let the universe sink in

forget that we are the artist

and become the work of art

Dance, because we have forgotten how to walk, how to talk, how to listen and to think

Dance because we have procured wings and can fly to a god like enchantment

an enchantment not of Icarus but of Dionysus

not of death but of transmigration

not of prideful thinking but of transcend living

Having fun with rhyming in nature

Good day

Lets take a small break from exploring “The Ethereal Mansion”. Today I will be posting about the fun exercise I use to better my rhyming, Limericks and just writer some whacky fun poetry. It is a process of racking my “mind castle” in order to find all the words that rhyme, that are moving in and around through out my daily existence. It is a way to keep the mind sharp and the ink from the pen flowing, even when there is nothing in particular to write about. If you’re feeling bored or uninspired this kind of writing always helps me to sit back and enjoy writing about “nothing” and helps re-inspire. To find a new way of viewing the world. It is also a classic way of writing poetry.

I hope you enjoy

The Sparrow, The Nightingale, The Raven, The Crow

The Falcon, The Hawk, The Eagle, The Show

The Branches, The Trees, The Forest, The Growth

The Leaves, The Breeze, The Sky, The Rose

The Beauty, The Song, The Elegance, The Prose

The Sonnet, The Limerick, The Playwright, The Odes

To Stand, And Watch, Whatever, That Shows

To Listen, To Hear, To Be, All that Blows

The Beauty, Of Nature, The Light, That Glow

The Water, The River, The Lake, That Flow

The Infinite, The Delicate, The Paradise in rows

With Whatever, Finds Life, in the Mind, That Grows

The Tapestries on the walls

Good day

Can you feel that? There in the room is a entity that keeps moving, evolving and growing with every passing thought. In every concept it ventures it has a new idea and ideal to re think and hash out into more ideas. But we are never alone in thinking and finding ideas, as they are hanging on the walls, like Tapestries. Luxurious and luminous to the sight and even more profound once they grab a hold of our brain stem and become reborn.

Keep on venturing with me into The Many rooms of The Ethereal Mansion!

Thinking entity

To study, to search, to seek, to breath, to paint, to write, to play, to dance, to speak

To comprehend, to understand, to conceive, to contemplate, to think, to adore, to visualize, to vocalize, to conceptualize

Is to philosophize in all the manners that have been deemed to man, A thinking entity

The entity to think for thyself and play as a child in the sand box of knowledge

In which we love and love well

To dig deeper, more profoundly into understand

Which will lead us onto more thinking and digging

The deeper we go, the more we still need to know

To fall into knowledge

Good day

We have now enter into the room of The Ethereal Mansion that holds the power and poison of Knowledge. The last poem was a warning of the door that you have entered the room which is filled with the Beautyful paradox of what knowledge can bring into reality. The Surrealist, The Existentialist, The Protagonist and Antagonist all reside in this room. They pace about, The talk and balk, as they sit a enjoy the “Brim of the fall”

These poems that are captured in the room are inspired by the minds that came before us, thought before us and found madness or genius before us.

This is another warning of sorts……. A poem to linger on your mind as we move deeper into what lives and breathes in this room


In the grasping of knowledge, I have realized, there is nothing to grasp for

The pursuit of knowledge is like standing at a precipice of a cliff on the edge of a black hole

Then as you pace on that razors edge, you slip on a banana peel, spill your coffee on your white shirt and begin to fall,

as you try to grasp at a passing star or rock formation

You realize, there is nothing to grasp for

And start to embrace the fall you have slip into

The grasping of knowledge comes from learning it has been a part of you in the journey

You just had to sit down and sip you coffee

The Next room to embrace

Good day

Today, as we keep moving through The Ethereal Mansion. We have now stumbled into another room. this room is filled with Philosophical thought and the ghost of the brilliant minds that thought before us. First, as we push open the door we are greeted by this poem. A poem of rhythm and rhymes and a reminding of what we think we know that we don’t actually know. Since knowledge can be the doom of us all, we must relax our egos and be open to what and who is reclining in this room. and This is where the “Dying Spectre” leaves us and awaits outside to take us onward but not before we are ready to move on. Let us enter the next room………

Suppose So

People say they know so

but People don’t know, they only suppose so

they try and live like royalty but have attitudes that fall so low

and find reality so slow

as they figure that they must know so

But OH No, Darwin has showed so, that we reap what we sow

we breath what we blow

we sink far below, what we suppose so

we now dig our graves with a flat hoe

and think we are pro

but we do not know so

we assume so

and support that it all must be so, of what we know so

yet our reactions to change is so slow and beauty has died in a distracted, disgusting, horrific show

we have lost touch with what we know so

we have let the rich and blind lead the show bringing the “Art of lying” far below, what Oscar Wilde try to show in his written show

so forget what we know so, let go of what we suppose so

let go of all the false control and rise above the Ego that lies below

for rising about this ego

Is the name of the game and show

remember you don’t actually know so, and what you suppose so is only learned from reading what people thought was so

so let go of that ego

and keep learning, unlearning all that you suppose so and think you know so

Hear the Ethereal Mansion

Good day

Todays post is a live video I did using a looper pedal, Guitar and poetry. Since the last few posts have been poems that helped create The Ethereal Mansion, I felt it necessary to let you listen to what the creeks and groans of the mansion sound like. The feeling of the atmosphere in which there are a lot of Avant grade noises and stylings rushing through the hallways.

Hope you enjoy and keep visiting The Ethereal Mansion

The Ethereal Mansions Tapestries’

As we move through the hallways of The Ethereal Mansion. You will come across 26 different alliterations hanging in Beautyful tapestries. They are in non linear order and are needing of your attention. They might be a distraction in order to keep a mystery in the shadows or they are just a perfect segue into whatever lies ahead.

They have a great play on words with some deep meaning scattered and riddled all through the poems

I hope you enjoy and embrace whatever journey The Ethereal Mansion takes you on

The Alphabet in Alliterations

The Alphabet in Alliterations appear Above the Alpha

The beauty blasts and blows at beaches and blisters the Bravo

The Cantaloupe, the Cranberries, canter with Colonels and Charlie

The dance of dregs drench the design of Delta

The elephant erases the errands of electric ether with Echo

The front foot forgoes the foreshadowing of the Foxtrot

The Giraffe’s gazing while grazing is like guessing when playing Golf 

The healing and the helium help humans reach a higher Hotel

The inside of insects intersects the inner circle of India

The jester will jest about, as the jaguar jeers at Juliet

The Kangaroo kicks the keeper of Kilo

The laying and lounging of lady’s look’s like a Lima

The Moment the moor moved,  the minstrel messed with Mike

The Newtonian notion of knowing needs November

The opal was the open obsession of Wilde’s Oscar

The parrot will pardon the present in presence of Papa

The quiet quest is quaking the quagmire of Quebec

The racoon rants at the rabbit in riots lead by Romeo

The sunrises surmise surrounds the scene in Sierra

The 2 toed tap dancer taps and twirls the Tango

The urchin uses the umbrella as a Uniform

The viceroy ventures in vices and forgets about virtues Victory

The wino whistles and wishes for Whiskey

The extreme expressive use of exuberance will explain the X-rays

The yellow yeast yields yelling from Yankees

The zebra zigs and zags on the zones of Zulu