Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Female Phainopepla Photo-Artistry   Leave a comment

Female Phainopepla — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“I look at the bird and only slowly over the years see it /

who has seen me from the first”

— from Hen Harrier Poems by Colin Simms

 

Wild Cotton Blossom   Leave a comment

Wild Cotton Blossom — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Turning pink in time
Beginning a virgin white
It is nature’s way.

— kenne

Mexican Hat Wildflower   Leave a comment

Mexican Hat Wildflower (White Mountains, Arizona) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.”

— Wallace Stevens

My Bird of Paradise   1 comment

Bird of Paradise — Photo-Artistry by kenne

My Bird of Paradise

Pleasing to behold
Is alive and has a soul
Paralyzed by love.

— kenne

 

AI Wasteland   Leave a comment

 Human Condition — Abstract Art by kenne

We are doomed
if we can meet
only by Zoom

spending each day
looking at some device
sighing in dismay

being told to stand
from a heart alert
in this AI wasteland.

— kenne

Staggerlee Wonders   1 comment

Abstract Art by kenne

I always wonder
what they think the niggers are doing
while they, the pink and alabaster pragmatists,
are containing
Russia
and defining and re-defining and re-aligning
China,
nobly restraining themselves, meanwhile,
from blowing up that earth
which they have already
blasphemed into dung:
the gentle, wide-eyed, cheerful
ladies, and their men,
nostalgic for the noble cause of Vietnam,
nostalgic for noble causes,
aching, nobly, to wade through the blood of savages—
ah—!
Uncas shall never leave the reservation,
except to purchase whisky at the State Liquor Store.
The Panama Canal shall remain forever locked:
there is a way around every treaty.
We will turn the tides of the restless
Caribbean,
the sun will rise, and set
on our hotel balconies as we see fit.
The natives will have nothing to complain about,
indeed, they will begin to be grateful,
will be better off than ever before.
They will learn to defer gratification
and save up for things, like we do.

Oh, yes. They will.
We have only to make an offer
they cannot refuse.

(Click here to read the complete poem.)

— from Staggerlee wonders by James Baldwin

Arizona Beggarticks Wildflower   Leave a comment

Arizona Beggarticks Wildflowers — Photo-Artistry by kenne

I paint with pixels
Adding new layers and filters
To create new art

Only to allow
The eye of the beholder
To become the judge.

Art is everywhere
Needing discipline of time
Found in simple things.

— kenne

Dried Vines   Leave a comment

Dried Vines — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Once the process of bringing forth new life passes,
leaves fall, vines become brittle to the touch,
and seeds are transported to new lands
where life can begin anew when the rains return.

There is reason to believe that the rains will not
return, or at least with so little only the hardiest
of the hardy will survive when the heat of the
new normal bakes the already dry land.

What will come of this wasteland? A land where
the winds carry a deadly virus bringing death
to weakest of the weak, where many feel they
are not accomplices to what caused the suffering.

— kenne

Poe’s, Sonnet — To Science   Leave a comment

Photo-Artistry by kenne

Sonnet – To Science

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?

— Edgar Allen Poe

Celebrating Walt Whitman   3 comments

Lowell Mick White Reading at the 2008 Walt Whitman Birthday Celebration in Conroe, Texas — Image by kenne

A Supermarket in California

  What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I
walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-
conscious looking at the full moon.
   In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the
neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
   What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping
at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in
the tomatoes!—and you, García Lorca, what were you doing
down by the watermelons?

   I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking
among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
   I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork
chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
   I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following
you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
   We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary
fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and
never passing the cashier.

   Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in a hour.
Which way does your beard point tonight?
    (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the 
supermarket and feel absurd.)
   Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add
shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we’ll both be lonely.
   Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue
automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
   Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what
America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you
got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear
on the black waters of Lethe?

— Allen Ginsberg

Now Lay On Your Eyes   1 comment

Autumn Abstract Art by kenne

Added layers to art 
Colors and shapes change the view
Now lay on your eyes.

— kenne

Hope   1 comment

Cedar Waxwing — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Hope is the thing with feathers—
that perches in the soul—
and sings the tune without the words—
and never stops—at all—

— Emily Dickinson

Capitol Reef Snapshot   Leave a comment

Capitol Reef National Park (06/12/14) — Image by kenne

The universe carved
A statue sculpted by time
Beauty without eyes.

— kenne

Turn and Run   Leave a comment

Wilderness Rock Trail 09-01-14-3697-Arizona Gray Squirrel-72

Wilderness Rock Trail 09-01-14-3698-Arizona Gray Squirrel-72

Arizona Gray Squirrel (Mt. Lemmon, 09/01/14) Images by kenne

Turn and Run

Invading a place
Belonging to another
How was I to know?

— kenne

Fall Shadows On The Mountain   Leave a comment

Fall Shadows On The Mountain — Image by kenne

What would shadows be without light?

What would light be without shadows?

So much of what existence  is all about,

One can not exist do without the other.

— kenne

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