Keith Loveland
A U T H O R

Keith is a skilled teacher and avid historian, and loves to speak to groups of all sizes. He is available for readings and discussion, in-person and virtual.

Contact Info

Keith Loveland Author Location

500 Wells Fargo Plaza

7900 Xerxes Avenue South

Minneapolis, MN 55431

Keith Loveland Author Phone

952-746-1106

Keith Loveland Author Email

kloveland@cap-mgt.com

Contact
 

A Short Glass Bead Game

I listened. I wondered. I dreamt. I was renewed back in Nineteen Sixty-Nine but reasonings are like...

 
 

More Words

Sometimes I spend time very near beauties of nature - a white bird leads methrough the clouds to the Sun.

 


POEMS

Keith Loveland Poem

A Short Glass Bead Game

"Monday's Child is fair of face, Tuesday's Child is full of grace,
Wednesday's Child is full of woe, Thursdays Child has far to go,
Friday's Child is loving and forgiving, Saturday's Child works hard for a living, But
Sunday's Child is fair and wise, and good and gay." Traditional Which are you?

Do you have a favorite picture from the Tarot deck?
How do you feel about the Zen Archer?
Do you believe 'A way of seeing is also a way of not seeing?'
As St. Augustine observed, we all know what time is until we are asked.

Do you remember Joni Mitchell crooning at Woodstock?
"We are stardust, we are golden,
We are caught in the devil's bargain,
And we've got to get ourselves back to the Garden."

I listened. I wondered. I dreamt. I was renewed back in Nineteen
Sixty-Nine but reasonings are like the painted kites of the Shaman
in scaring away disease, like the wailings of the paid mourners in
comforting the bereaved.

"Tell Me What You Believe" my friend 'Michael' would say
in between penning new Dream Songs, so I'd mention a torrent of
idea-forms or merely an arrangement of senses perceived or
loosely fitting interludes of music, magic and belief.
An irony - two chameleons in metered armor.
Keith Loveland Poem

My Heart Is In The North Woods

Do you believe in what you want to be, Grandma would ask me.
You know, she would say, "Men at some times are masters of their fate,"
or so Cassius told Brutus in the play Julius Caesar.

I would say, I could walk all night drifting down the highway from somewhere to somewhere else, just skipping along, waiting for the next ride, camera in my pocket.

Do you believe in what you want to be, Grandma would ask me.
Yes, I would say – I am not just some young math man from up north;
I'm seeking something beyond one plus one.
And, yes, I would have picnics on my prayer rug as I drifted along — the body the soul the mind all dreamt of the sunshine within the map I drew;
Heaven is here and the Garden of Eden too.
All inside, I knew.

I had some hard times being too young to be as old as I seemed — being too old to be as young as I was sometimes; but on early Friday morning,
It's no longer dark — Mother Sun rising in the East on my left,
On my right Sister Moon grows fainter in the Western Sky;
The Stars above me are a timeless mandala whispering to me —
whispering 'wash your eyes with tears so that you may see, wash
your eyes and move beyond that day.'
Now, I'm not so sure whether it was the North Wind that caused my eyes to tear,
‘Has not each a secret dream, a tall castle, a sparkling stream, a chime
that rings an ancient rhyme on the edge of time?'

And, so, 'Do you believe in what you want to be, Grandma would ask me.'
Yes. What I chose was every beautiful thing — what I chose was to be me.
Keith Loveland Poem

More Words

I know every flower was once a seed, and I know
I have stayed alive to become this me.

Sometimes I spend time very near beauties of nature — a white bird leads me
through the clouds to the Sun.

Sometimes I see symbolic manifestations of grace in sacred
spaces; questions are sometimes put to the trees or stars or
wind.
Answers sometimes appear in a language I believe —
and sometimes
I share some of what I hear with you.
Sometimes I write about a soul's progress toward enlightenment —
and sometimes
puzzles get unpuzzled in the words I write.
Sometimes I share these words with you

Complex symbols, words.
Unusually limited and infinitely expressive, those words.
Sometimes those words come up from deep within, but not in a secret
language
only known to me, I hope.
If you are feeling comfortable with my sharing
I want to keep that smile on your face.
No jewel is as precious to me as your heart — if these
words ever cause you pain, my sorrow will cause the sky to
weep.

Keith "Sunny" Loveland
Keith Loveland Poem

Grandma Susie's Note

My dear Sunny,
Look at all we have seen.
And been. And done.
You always went first.
Marriage. Children.
First to be in your sixth decade.
And now you are moving in with me.
Let's eat cake with every meal today.
Let's look at our photo albums all day and reminisce.
I have Prosecco in the fridge.
Love, Susie.
Keith Loveland Poem

Per l'amaro e il dolce

(For the bitter and the sweet)
I remember many things - bitter
and sweet;
good times,
bad ones too.
Those who stayed - and
those who walked away.
Those who love me
are the dearest memory.
Lena Bergen
Keith Loveland Author Writing Accessories