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KayJay - Poet - Prayers, please |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart ![]() |
On March 4, Ken Julkowski's daughter writes: "Yesterday my dad, Ken Julkowski, suffered a hemorrhagic stroke. He is stable today after having surgery last night to relieve pressure on his brain. Dr's think his speech may be impaired and the right side of his body as well due to the location of the hemorrhage they found. Please lift him up in your prayers for a good recovery! Also please lift up my stepmom Ruth, my brothers and my sisters-in-law for strength during this time as well!" Please keep our poet KayJay [Ken] in your prayers. |
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© Copyright 2015 Karilea Rilling Jungel - All Rights Reserved | |||
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
I have been thinking of Ken and his family since I heard about this. Thank you for posting it here. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
From Andee Sage, Ken's daughter: "Today at 1:30pm my father, Ken Julkowski, will be taken off life support. He will complete his journey in his own time. Thank you so much for all of your love and support during this time. It has meant the world to me and to my family!" Please keep Ken's family in your prayers. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"Thank you everyone for your wonderful thoughts and prayers! My dad, Ken Julkowski, passed away at 2 45pm this afternoon." ~*~ Our KayJay poet is gone. Please remember him as you will. "The business of the poet...is to show the sorriness underlying the grandest things and the grandeur underlying the sorriest things." Thomas Hardy [This message has been edited by Sunshine (03-12-2015 05:36 PM).] |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Keeping all of you in my heart of prayer...sending warm hugs of comfort. M |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I am sending forth to Ken's daughters the following poems that he wrote, and perhaps they will be used. But for the girls, they may be the best memories. Ten pound day Burning toast Wrinkled clothes Screaming kids Time slides Home life crammed Disaster slams Ten pounds of stuff In a five pound day Rain pours down Clothes drown Traffic jams Bike cop hams Fender bender Temper in blender Ten pounds of stuff In a five pound day Project is taffy Spilled coffee Screaming boss Memos lost Too many tasks Too many asks Ten pounds of stuff In a five pound day Lover gone Life moves on Pile of bills Meals are swills No relief Life deceives Ten pounds of stuff In a five pound day © Ken Julkowski 8-29-05 Reefing the Topsail I jerked awake to the bosun’s bawling “All the hands on deck. Lay aloft to reef the topsail Afore we ground and wreck.” My mate an’ me raced up the shrouds On to the topsail yard. We worked along the footrope, No time our life to guard. The ship was heeling before the wind Driving on a starboard tack. With blooded fists, we beat the sail Eighty feet above the deck. 'Twas clutch and grab ‘til fingers raw Subdued the straining sail. Gripping legs on a backstay, We slid to the ship’s rail. ”Good Lord,” Paula, my neighbor called As I surveyed my rig. ”Why fight that tarp on your RV? It’s more than I can dig.” Each time the wind displaces it I climb up to retie. And hear in the wind the seamen's tales Of those who worked so high. © Ken Julkowski 12-2-05 Mother of Waters The mother of waters flows down to the sea. In moving through rocks, she is spirit to me. The boy in me still can remember her sounds As cooking and cleaning were always her rounds. She rarely sat down; there was something to do But always she’d stop just to listen to you. As selfless as any kind mother I’ve seen She knew how to read a boy’s will to be keen Indulgence and patience were all she would need To foil my plans for some mischievous deed. I’d stolen some dimes from her friend’s piggy bank For honesty now, it is her I must thank. She called me one day to come in for the blame With crying eyes told me that she felt such shame. Forgetting her words of some supper quite soon,. A pal and I hiked out one day in warm June. We dallied as eight year olds will on a lark But when we strolled home, it was well after dark. When Dad went away to some job on the coast, No job was too low as she struggled to boast. ”It’s been mighty tight but now I’m doing fine.” As four in one bed was our sleep: I was nine. Those years were quite lean and I’d often walk home Across busy traffic from school’s big dome. I’d come now to know how things were in that time, By hiking three miles, I had saved her a dime. We barely had food for us one Christmas day I think now of how she could make things okay. By saving and scrimping in ways still not plain. She managed to buy me a Lionel train. The stories are many I have from those days, But mostly I know what I learned from her ways. She gave to her children great lessons for life. We learned to be strong in the face of our strife. The mother of waters flows down to the sea. In moving through rocks, she is spirit to me. (Dedicated to Louise Marcella Julkowski 1905 – 1997. She would have been 100 last week. Ken) © Ken Julkowski 5-8-2005 |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
SO sorry to hear this. Sending family a message of sorrow for the lost of a dear father. Jo Perry |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Andee, Ken's daughter, posted this today on FB: "Services for my dad, Ken Julkowski will be Saturday April 11th at 11 a.m. at St. Charles church in Portland Oregon. Please come help us celebrate his life!" "The business of the poet...is to show the sorriness underlying the grandest things and the grandeur underlying the sorriest things." Thomas Hardy |
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