Downtown La Paz   Leave a comment

Downtown La Paz, Bolivia (August 2019) — Image by kenne

High in the Andes 

Sites can take your breath away

Where the air is thin.

— kenne

Posted June 8, 2023 by kenneturner in Bolivia, Information, Poetry

Tagged with , , ,

Monkey Flower   1 comment

Monkey Flower — Image by kenne

It is better to learn early

of the inevitable depths,

for then sorrow and death

take their proper place in

life, and one is not afraid.

— Pearl S. Buck

Oleander Blossoms Painting   1 comment

Oleander Blossoms Painting — Photo-Artistry by kenne


Flashback: Car Show   3 comments

A Car Show At Lake Arrowhead In Southern California (June 2009) — Image by kenne

Street Art   Leave a comment

4th Avenue Street Art, Tucson — Images by kenne

California Dreams   Leave a comment

California Dreams — HDR Image by kenne

California Dreams

If you want to dream and live come with me
I’ll take you to a place so beautiful
We’ll both escape and go over there
If you don’t want to dream then you can stay here

Hollywood realizes your dreams in front of a green screen
We’ll see the sunset and forget about wars
Come to California with me my queen
You could think that the world is yours

You’ll see stars not in the sky, but in bars
Huge skyscrapers that are not buildings
You’ll forget about all your scars
Come to California with me girl

Record your own life story in a studio
You’ll meet some people that are so hooked on drugs
It has its disadvantages, but I liked it
Let’s realize our California dreams

— Raul Luna

Cactus Wren On Saguaro   1 comment

Cactus Wren On Saguaro — Image by kenne

Cactus wren stops to

Survey her territory

Before moving on.

— kenne

Marine Blue Butterflies   2 comments

Marine Blue Butteries — Image by kenne

The world is not to be put in order,

the world is order. It is for us to put

ourselves in unison with this order.

— Henry Miller

Ocotillo Blossom Art   2 comments

Ocotillo Blossom — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Ocotillo art

Outline of the real thing

That’s what I call it.

— kenne

What’s Going On Here?   Leave a comment

“What’s Going On Here?” (Two Desert Spiny Lizards) — Image by kenne

Nature Abstract   Leave a comment

Nature Abstract by kenne

Is it so small a thing

To have enjoyed the sun,

To have lived light in the spring,

To have loved, to have thought, to have done;

To have advanced true friends, and beat down baffling foes?

— Matthew Arnold

White-winged Dove On Saguaro   1 comment

White-winged Dove On Saguaro — Image by kenne

Alexa, shuffle my Pandora stations —

I stream music most of the day,

sometimes it becomes indistinct,

like the sound of wind chimes, 

the cooing of white-wing doves. 

Alexa, stop!

— kenne

Boat By Pier   2 comments

Boat by Pier — Photo-Artistry by kenne

They were beautiful in the clear early light—
red, yellow, blue and green—
is all I wanted to say about them,
although for the rest of the day
I pictured a lighter version of myself
calling time through a little megaphone,
first to the months of the year,
then to the twelve apostles, all grimacing
as they leaned and pulled on the long wooden oars.

— from Brightly Colored Boats on the Banks of the Charles by Billy Collins

What’s Going On In There?   Leave a comment

Two Windows — Image by kenne

Huffy Henry hid the day,
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,—a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.

All the world like a woolen lover
once did seem on Henry’s side.
Then came a departure.
Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought.
I don’t see how Henry, pried
open for all the world to see, survived.

What he has now to say is a long
wonder the world can bear & be.
Once in a sycamore I was glad
all at the top, and I sang.
Hard on the land wears the strong sea
and empty grows every bed.

— John Berryman 

Mount Shasta   6 comments

Mount Shasta in Northern California — Image by kenne

“When I first caught sight of Mount Shasta over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley,

my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.”

— John Muir, 1874

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