Archive for the ‘Poetry ’ Category
Yesterdays, New Orleans December 2007 — Collage by kenne
New Orleans days
Our favorite getaway
Living in Houston.
— kenne
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Winter Moon Over Tucson — Image by kenne
Tucson’s winter moon
May not be a harvest moon
Don’t really care.
— kenne
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Desert Windmill — Image by kenne
Windmills hypnotize
See adventure and magic
Don Quixote complex.
— kenne
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Corvette Raffle at St. Demetrios Greek Orthodox Church Tucson Greek Festival — Image by kenne
With so many leaves, the sun waves good day with many stands shines, shines the sky and those ones inn irons and those others are in the earth.
Quiet anytime now, the church bells will signal.
This earth is theirs and ours.
Beneath the earth in their crossed arms they hold the rope of the church bells, they are awaiting the hour, waiting to signal the resurrection this earth is theirs and ours no one can take it from us
Quiet anytime now, the church bells will signal.
— from The Church Bells Will Signal by Yiannis Ritsos
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Street Fair Food — Image by kenne
You try not to stop
When food looks and smiles so good
How can you say no?
— kenne
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Buddha — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The Diamond Sutra
All appearance is delusion.
If you view all appearance as nonappearance,
Then that view is your true nature.
Do not become attached to any thoughts
That arise in the mind.
If you see form as the Absolute,
If you search out the Absolute with your voice,
You are practicing the wrong path,
And you cannot see your true self.
All compounded things are like a dream,
A phantom, a bubble, or a reflection.
They are like dew or lightning.
Thus should you view them.
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Hummingbird Feeder Art — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Sometimes you hear them
Their humming sound makes us look
Making eye contact.
— kenne
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Bee On Burroweed Among Ferns — Image by kenne
Look, and you will see
Pleasure in flowers today
The desert loves spring.
— kenne
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Borderland Moon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the night-thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
— from Frost at Midnight by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Art Festival ’08 — Image by kenne
Creativity
It is everywhere you look
Come join the parade.
— kenne
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Tucsonan Activists — Image by kenne
These are amazing: each Joining a neighbor, as though speech Were a still performance. Arranging by chance
To meet as far this morning From the world as agreeing With it, you and I Are suddenly what the trees try
To tell us we are: That their merely being there Means something; that soon We may touch, love, explain.
And glad not to have invented Such comeliness, we are surrounded: A silence already filled with noises, A canvas on which emerges
A chorus of smiles, a winter morning. Placed in a puzzling light, and moving, Our days put on such reticence These accents seem their own defense.
— Some Trees by John Ashbery
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Desert Sunset — Image by kenne
After a blue-sky day
high clouds move in
making perfect the sunset.
— kenne
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Low Clouds In The Catalina Foothills — Image by kenne
Low clouds remain
in the canyons
of the foothills
after a weekend
of much needed rain.
— kenne
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Top Two Shelves In Our Study — Image by kenne
There are moments
down deep inside
when I scream —
Nobody gets in
to see the wizard
not nobody,
not no how.
— kenne
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Aspen Trail on Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Sun warms the lizard’s back and the humble back of the mountain. A raven croaks from the top of a thermal. The valley oak above the barn, dying a huge branch at a time, stands in calm mortability, content with the warm light that has fed its leaves, the dark waters that have fed its roots, its acorns that have fed the woodpeckers for five hundred rainy seasons.
— Ursula K. Le Guin
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