Great Horned Owl Landing — Photo-Artistry by kenne
An owl landed
in a nearby tree
in the light of day
perfect for
taking photos.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
Great Horned Owl Landing 1 comment
Expectations: Tomorrow Is Not Promised Leave a comment
Photo-Artistry by kenne
Expectations
Who are you,
you who share
my very existence
with your expectations,
sometimes calling them
traditions,
placing more value
on the worth
of your expectations,
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of my very being.
Who am I,
I who share
your very existence
with my expectations,
sometimes calling them
logical
placing more value
on the worth of my expectations,
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of your very being.
Who are we,
we who share
a finite existence
with our expectations,
sometimes calling them
unconditional
placing more value
on the worth of our expectations
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of a finite being.
Who are they,
they who share
our very existence
with their expectations,
sometimes calling them
laws
placing more value
on the worth of their expectations
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of our very being.
Who are We
We who share
an infinite existence
with our expectations,
sometimes calling them
spiritual
placing more value
on the worth of all expectations
willing to understand
both the what
and the why
of a universal being.
— kenne
(. . . He celebrates and spurns
His driftwood eighty-first wind turned age;
Herons spire and spear.*)
*Dylam Thomas, “Poem On His Birthday”
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Sonoran Desert Winter Sunset 2 comments
Sonoran Desert Winter Sunset (January 6, 2022) — Image by kenne
A painted sunset
With many rainbow colors
Mercy to the clock.
— kenne
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Moving On Down The Road Leave a comment
Moving On Down The Road — Image by kenne
Move on down the road
Loaded on a pickup truck
Have house will travel
Through New Mexico
On Interstate Highway 10
East and west movement.
— kenne
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Charleston Bay Leave a comment
Egret in Low Tide, Charleston Bay — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The tide moving out
Provides opportunities
For egrets to feed.
— kenne
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‘On Connection’ Leave a comment
‘On Connection’ delivers a message worth subscribing to
Author extolls the importance of finding meanings in the little things
“On Connection” by Sunday Times-bestselling author Kae Tempest.
For musician, poet and playwright Kae Tempest, 2020 was a year to ruminate on the small details of life and find meaning in the little things.
In their 2020 book-length essay, “On Connection,” Tempest reveals the dangers of a polarized society out of touch with the deeper elements of life. Drawing from personal experiences, excerpts of Carl Jung’s “The Red Book” and William Blake quotes, Tempest argues that creativity — in any form we define — is a pathway to self-discovery, unity and most importantly, connection.“We have lost each other under this selfless system of hyper-competition,” they write. “Music is the great invigorator. Artists don’t make their work to inspire your collusion, your submission or your consumption of their ideals. They serve a purpose that is higher. Bigger. Deeper. Which is why you feel higher, bigger, deeper as you connect with their output.”
Tempest expresses two prominent themes that call back to Jung’s “The Red Book.” These are the “spirit of the times,” or the egoist elements of oneself, and the “spirit of the depths,” or one’s inner expression of uniqueness. Tempest calls on readers to channel the depths by trying to feel the world around them a little more: they recommend taking a moment to notice the sunset, observe how the people around them are walking in tandem or listen to the sound of life around them:
“So
Put your phone down.
Listen to the birds.
Build a fire in a quiet place.
Pay attention to the details when you kiss your lover.”
Tempest says these small moments give our spirits the guidance they need: “There are many ways to access a more resonant place. It starts by acknowledging that everything is resonating.”
The first time I read “On Connection,” I felt a sudden wave of relief, as if Tempest was accompanying me during my moments of triumph and despair. The book felt less like an essay and more like a roadmap to mindful living; it teaches the reader how to navigate a world that is complex and exploitive, while still being in touch with the beauty of the present moment.
This book-length essay is perfect for anyone looking for a change of pace, something that will make readers think about life in a way they wouldn’t have otherwise. Tempest’s writing extends beyond the page, speaking to the spiritual and human truth that at our core, we are all one.
Tempest meditates on their past as they create a poignant and empowering narrative of self-acceptance. The author artfully weaves their story into the narrative, which opens doors for readers to reflect on the content on a deeper level.
Tempest delivers on their promise of making readers feel a higher, bigger and deeper connection to the truths the author spoke of.
— Jack Porcari is the senior news/features editor and can be reached at jack.porcari@ubspectrum.com
Kae Tempest — Source: Getty
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Garcia Lorca — Gacela of the Dark Death Leave a comment
August 19th, 1936 — Federico García Lorca dies. Andalusian poet/dramatist/artist. Murdered by Franco’s fascists.
Accused of subversive activity, however evidence today suggests that it was a hate crime in response to his homosexuality.
His writings remained censored until Franco died in 1975. Despite this, Lorca became one of the
most widely read writers in the world.
Gacela of the Dark Death
I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of cemeteries,
I want to sleep the dream of that child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas?
I don’t want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood,
that the putrid mouth goes on asking for water.
I don’t want to learn of the tortures of the grass,
nor of the moon with a serpent’s mouth
that labors before dawn.
I want to sleep awhile,
awhile, a minute, a century;
but all must know that i have not died;
that there is a stable of gold in my lips;
that i am the small friend of the West wing;
that i am the intense shadow of my tears.
Cover me at dawn with a veil.
because dawn will throw fistfuls of ants at me.
and wet with hard water my shoes
so that the pincers of the scorpion slide.
For i want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to learn a lament that will cleanse me of the earth;
for i want to live with that dark child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.
— Federico Garcia Lorca
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A Fun Day On The Beach Leave a comment
A Fun Day On The Beach (August 2021)– Photo-Artistry by kenne
On this winter day
it’s nice to look
back on the fun
days of summer
being in the sun
with bikini-clad girls.
Eye popping!
— kenne
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I Am The People — Leave a comment
“The Worker” — Image by kenne
I AM the people — the mob — the crowd — the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of this world is
done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the
world’s food & clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons
come from me & the Lincolns. They die. &
then I send forth more Napoleons & Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand
for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me.
I forget. The best of me is sucked out & wasted.
I forget. Everything but Death comes to me &
makes me work & give up what I have. & I forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself & spatter a few red
drops for history to remember. Then — I forget.
When I, the people, learn to remember, when I, the People
use the lessons of yesterday & no longer forget
who robbed me last year, who played me for
a fool — then there will be no speaker in all the world
say the name: “The People”, with any fleck of a
sneer in his voice or any far off smile of derision.
The mob — The crowd — The mass — will arrive then.
— Carl Sandburg
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Ferry To Copacabana — The Return Leave a comment
Taking the Ferry To Copacabana the Main Bolivian Town On the shore of Lake Titicaca — Image by kenne
The Return
I’m coming back
for my wings.
O let me come back!
I want to die where
it’s dawn!
I want to die where
it’s yesterday!
I’m coming back
for my wings.
O let me get back!
I want to die where
it’s origin.
I want to die
out of sight
of the sea.
— Federico Garcia Lorca
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Water Over The Dam 2 comments
Water Over The Dam — Image by kenne
I walked by the creek
where the water flows
over the edge of the dam
dancing amidst the flow of light
into an endless movement
riding waves of time.
— kenne
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Yes, The Sun Leave a comment
Sedona Sunrise — Image by kenne
Words at Daybreak
Before beginning in earnest,
without meanings to identify them,
they emerge like figures behind a gray curtain.
The dark flock on the foggy horizon
defers arrival. Engaged in some play
of its own making, it circles and drifts.
Still, fricative, almost particulate songs
filter down, silting along the gray shore.
They summon the ear to something, to something.
— Tess Taylor
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Pena Mountain Leave a comment
Pena Mountain (Vermillion Cliffs National Monument) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The land is like poetry:
it is inexplicably coherent,
it is transcendent in its meaning,
and it has the power to elevate
a consideration of human life.”
— Barry Lopez
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A Foothills Night Leave a comment
A Foothills Night — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Clouds move in
Over the mountains
Lightning strikes.
— kenne
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A Christmas Bouquet 1 comment
A Christmas Bouquet — Photo-Artistry by kenne
There’s nothing lovelier, than having
fresh cut flowers, on a table, it dresses
up any room! I love the aroma that fills
the air, with it’s faint and dainty perfume!
Flowers, bring sunshine into your life,
no matter how bad you may feel, just
being surrounded with beautiful flowers,
can chase away any ordeal. They can
make a room come alive, with it’s
colorful flow, it fills a room with so much
warmth, you can actually see the glow!
Whenever there’s flowers adorning a
room, take the time, to admire their
beauty and grace. There’s nothing
lovelier than fresh cut flowers, on a
table, it’s guaranteed, to put that
smile, back on your face!
— Audrey Heller
Becoming is Superior to Being 