Archive for the ‘Dylan Thomas’ Category

Grilling On New Year’s Day   Leave a comment

Kenne David Turner Grilling On His Birthday, January 1st — Image by kenne

“This sandgrain day in the bent bay’s grave
      He celebrates and spurns
   His driftwood forty-eighth wind turned age;
      Herons spire and spear.”

Foggy Morning Birthday On Tanuri Ridge   1 comment

Foggy Morning Birthday On Tanuri Ridge — Image by kenne

This sandgrain day in the bent bay’s grave
He celebrates and spurns
His driftwood eighty-second wind turned age;
Herons spire and spear.

— An age modification from Poem On His Birthday by Dylan Thomas

American Snout Butterfly   Leave a comment

American Snout Butterfly — Image by kenne

“A good poem helps to change the shape and significance of the universe,

helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.”

—Dylan Thomas

Gray Heron   1 comment

Gray Heron (Benson Sculpture Garden) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

And I rose
In a rainy autumn
And walked abroad in shower of all my days
High tide and the heron dived when I took the road
Over the border
And the gates
Of the town closed as the town awoke.

― Dylan Thomas

“Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light.”   Leave a comment

Red Sky at Sunset –“Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light.” — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

— Dylan Thomas

Anything Can Happen Here Amigo   1 comment

Image by kenne

“I hold a beast, an angel, and a madman in me,
and my enquiry is as to their working,
and my problem is their subjugation and victory,
down throw and upheaval,
and my effort is their self-expression.”

— Dylan Thomas

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