Sunday, November 19, 2017

In Mourning

One of my older drawings titled I.M. - In Mourning.
9 x 11 Graphite on Mellotex paper
October 2012

Saturday, October 21, 2017

This Day in History, October 21st 2017

This Day in History, October 21st 2017
Kenny A. Chaffin
All Rights Reserved © 2017 Kenny A. Chaffin

Black Lives do not Occupy Wall Street.
Street people abound. Blue Blood runs Red
in the stinking Potomac River. Wealth is in the hands
of the few, the bold, the greedy. Wealth that must
be free like Information. Free to Fuel the ‘merikan
Dream that lies rotting at Standing Rock,
in the landfills, in the cities, in the schools.

Wealth must ‘Live Free or Die’ unshackled
from the surely bonds of Wall Street, unshackled
from greedy hands, unshackled from chains of fear,
fear of sedition, fear of the future, fear of Aliens,
fear of Intelligence, nothing Artificial added. Oh
say, Can you See, Leather-Clad Angels on Harleys
chanting ‘Evolve or Die’ through glass bullhorns
from the charred remains of our western wineries.

Kenny A. Chaffin – 10/21/2017

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Willem Dafoe Drawing

My latest pencil drawing

Willem Dafoe - 9 x 11 inches, Graphite on Mellotex Paper
about 26 hours in the making.

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Angel Mine

Kenny A. Chaffin
All Rights Reserved © 2017 Kenny A. Chaffin

I was shocked when I looked out and saw the angel squatting on my back porch taking a piss. She’d hiked up her white silk gown and a stream of yellow puddled between her feet and ran off the edge of the concrete into the yard. She looked up and saw me at the sliding glass door, smiled and kind of shook her butt before pulling up her panties and standing. A warm golden glow exuding peace and happiness surrounded her and her haunting ethereal features. She winked and was gone. My lawn thereafter was perfect, the envy of the neighborhood.

Kenny A. Chaffin – 3/8/2017

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Stop the Madness

Stop the Madness

Donnie should just pack his little pecker
up and head home. The Big Apple
Trump Tower, his Golden Throne maybe
he can expire on the shitter like Elvis.

We’ve had enough, seen enough
been through enough. The incompetence.
The narcissism. Obvious to even a half-blind
one-eyed paperhanger.

Completely and utterly unfit to be president.
Not only that but a clear and present danger
to the Country, the Constitution and the World.
Bye-Bye Donnie.

Kenny A. Chaffin – 5/17/2017

Friday, March 31, 2017

The Subjective Experience of the Color Red

The Subjective Experience of the Color Red
Kenny A. Chaffin
All Rights Reserved © 2015 Kenny A. Chaffin
First published in Prosthetic Amalgams

Was it good for you too?” Vincent inquired of Elaine.
Oh My God! It was incredible; I’ve never experienced anything like that!”
There was silence for six beats, Elaine sighed, “Why is it illegal?”
Vincent considered this for a bit, “They say it was because such things destroyed us.”
How? Why?”
We really shouldn’t be discussing this, they can monitor us you know as well as I, or at least review the archives and find us, we could be punished.”
Even here? On the far ends of existence?”
No one knows for sure, but they are always watching, always monitoring.”
I don’t understand. This could change everything.”
Or destroy everything.”
...but.....wait.....can we do it again?”
Not sure we should.”
Please Vincent, Please. I must, now that you have brought me to this ecstasy, there is no way I can leave. If you do not help me, I’ll find someone else.”
I should have known better. I should have seen that you would not be able to return to your previous existence after experiencing red.”
Vincent, it’s not just red, I’m already imagining other colors, other sensations. We must leave this barren existence and experience reality with all manner of senses.”
I don’t think you know what you are saying, what you are risking, Elaine. Please, let us just return to the core.”
No, things are going to change, I can feel it!”

Tuesday, March 7, 2017


Kenny A. Chaffin
All Rights Reserved © 2016 Kenny A. Chaffin

“I have my reservations,” ol’ Joe told me and grinned, “they’re in South Dakota -- Standing Rock mostly.” He laughed. But it wasn’t funny to me or any of the others paying the price, making the amends.
“Now come on, get back out there, let’s see some fancy dancin’!” He burst out laughing again. I nodded and backed away to the circle. The old men began the drum beat and sang, “Oh wee ha ho wee ho ha he.” We whites dressed in moccasins, breech cloths, and war paint danced for their amusement. Only two hundred years of servitude left.