Naked Beauty — Painting by kenne
Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed.
— William Blake
Archive for the ‘Existential Moment’ Category
Naked Beauty Leave a comment
January Sunset Leave a comment
January Sunset — Image by kenne
“January looks forward to the new year and back to the old year. He sees past and future.”
— M.L. Stedman
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A Clock Stopped 4 comments
Wall Clock — Photo-artistry by kenne
A Clock stopped –
Not the Mantel’s –
Geneva’s farthest skill
Can’t put the puppet bowing
That just now dangled still –
An awe came on the Trinket!
The Figures hunched -with pain –
Then quivered out of Decimals –
Into Degreeless noon –
It will not stir for Doctors –
This Pendulum of snow –
The Shopman importunes it –
While cool – concernless No
Nods from the Gilded pointers –
Nods from Seconds slim –
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life –
And Him.
— Emily Dickinson
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The Touch IV 2 comments
The Touch IV — Photo-artistry by kenne
she loves
the afternoon sun
shining through
the Arbor windows
providing a touch
stimulating deep channels
of arousal in him
and in her twin fonts
— kenne
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Death In The Desert Leave a comment
Dying Saguaro Cactus — Image by kenne
Death in the desert
Stands as if in defiance
Against gravity.
— kenne
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Saguaro Morning 1 comment
Saguaro Morning — Image by kenne
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Sabino Canyon Phoneline Trail Leave a comment
Sabino Canyon Phoneline Trail — Image by kenne
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New Orleans — Street Intensity Leave a comment
New Orleans — Street Intensity — Photo-artistry by kenne
French Quarter morning
Party people still in bed
A great time to jog.
— kenne
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The Laws of Silence 2 comments
Upright Prairie Coneflower — Image by kenne
A Love Poem
There are so many kinds
of silence. There is the quiet of companionship, on a line
at a movie. The quiet of two bodies winded
in a bed. There is the uncomfortable
silence that comes , suddenly, to end
a playfulness, a silence to funble in,
a silence to walk through
that need no completing.
There are the silences like rain
that slow the day, the quiet story
of a man who has died while dreaming.
These are the laws of silence.
That it is pliant and thus cannot
Be broken. That it is company
to every voice.
— Randall Watson
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Not Till We Are Lost 2 comments
Carins Marking the Trail To Cardiac Gap — Image by kenne
Not till we are lost, in other words, not till we have lost the world,
do we begin to find ourselves and realize where we are
and the infinite extent of our relations.
— Henry Thoreau
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West Texas Sunset 2 comments
West Texas Sunset — Photo-artistry by kenne
Like a circle in a spiralLike a wheel within a wheelNever ending or beginningOn an ever-spinning wheelLike a snowball down a mountainOr a carnival balloonLike a carousel that’s turningRunning rings around the moonLike a clock whose hands are sweepingPast the minutes on it’s faceAnd the world is like an appleWhirling silently in spaceLike the circles that you findIn the windmills of your mind
— from Wind Mills of My Mind by Susan Wong
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A Little Holidays Touch Leave a comment
A Little Holidays Touch In The Bedroom — Image by kenne
HAPPY HOLIDAYS, 2023
Like silence,
I am the sudden entrance
of that feature of the air
among the atmospheres
thathas no voice
butthe whirlwind bringing
the world to its new welcome>
I am the comfort that comes,
that irreproachable and obscure love
the world dies to have
now welcoming
and worth the saving.
— from Grace by Randall Watson
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Sunset Over Lake Titicaca 5 comments
Sunset Over Lake Titicaca (November 26, 2019) Photo-artistry by kenne
I don’t like gurus. I don’t like people who ask you to follow or believe.
I like people who ask you to think independently.
— A. S. Byatt
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Meditation Leave a comment
In The Moment — Image by kenne
Enlightened leadership is spiritual
if we understand spirituality
not as some kind of religious dogma
or ideology but as the domain of awareness
where we experience values
like truth, goodness, beauty,
love and compassion, and also intuition,
creativity, insight and focused attention.
— Deepak Chopra
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I Wish I Were A Rose 2 comments
Rose Image by kenne
I wish I were a scarlet rose
so you might lift me in your hands
and pull me to your snowy breasts.
— Byzantine, fourth to sixth century
