Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

The Drought Continues   Leave a comment

The Drought Continues In The Desert Southwest — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Coyotes passed through the field at the back
of the house last night — coyotes, from midnight
till dawn, hunting, foraging, a mad scavenging,
scaring up pocket gophers, white-breasted mice,
jacktails, voles, the least shrew, catching
a bite at a time.

They were a band, screeching, yodeling,
a multi-tone pack. Such yipping and yapping
and jaw chapping, yelping and painful howling,
they had to be skinny, worn, used up,
a tribe of bedraggled uncles and cousins
on the skids, torn, patched, frenzied
mothers, daughters, furtive pups
and, slinking on the edges, an outcast
cow dog or two.

— from A Passing by Pattiann Rogers

 

 

Abstract Art — An Aura of Love   Leave a comment

Girl of My Dreams — Abstract art by kenne

The girl of my dreams

Colors bouncing around her

An aura of love.

— kenne

Swallowtail Artistry   1 comment

Swallowtail Butterfly — Photo-Artistry by kenne

You pull over to the shoulder
          of the two-lane
road and sit for a moment wondering
          where you are going
in such a hurry. The valley is burned
          out, the oaks
dream day and night of rain
          which never comes.
At noon or just before noon
          the short shadows
are gray and hold what little
          life survives.
In the still heat the engine
          clicks, although
the real heat is hours ahead.
          You get out and step
cautiously over a low wire
          fence and begin
the climb up the yellowed hill.
          A hundred feet
ahead the trunks of two
          fallen oaks
rust: something passes over
          them, a lizard
perhaps or a trick of sight.
          The next tree
you pass is unfamiliar,
          the trunk dark,
as black as an olive’s; the low
          branches stab
out, gnarled and dull; a carob
          or a Joshua tree.
A sudden flaring up ahead,
          a black-winged
bird rises from nowhere,
          white patches
underneath it wings, and is gone.

— from Magpiety by Philip Levine

We Took Our Hearts Full Pleasure   1 comment

Nude (1990) — Abstract Art by kenne

 

My Voice

Within the restless, hurried, modern world
    We took our hearts’ full pleasure—You and I,
And now the white sails of our ships are furled,
    And spent the lading of our argosy.

Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan,
    For very weeping is my gladness fled,
Sorrow hath paled my lip’s vermilion
    And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed.

But all this crowded life has been to thee
    No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell
Of viols, or the music of the sea
    That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.

— Oscar Wilde

 

October On The Mountain   Leave a comment

October On the Mountain — Photo-Artistry by kenne

OCTOBER

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.

Robert Frost

Bisbee Art Wall   Leave a comment

Bisbee Art Wall — Image by kenne

a nacreous tossing around at
the sides, a dappled silver
sunlight if looked one way, an

apocalyptic gloam if another,
exhaled from a seeming
mouth, feeding on what has

already eviscerated an unfelt
*****, a predator certainly its
own prey, a heat certainly

poison-breath on a cheek
falling when a meretricious
lover spouts that spurious

hypocorism, and also just a
wavering, iridescent puddle—
cornered, soft as a liquid steel

— from I in Graffiti Mural by Daneillo

“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

Darkness   Leave a comment

Darkness — Photo-Artistry by kenne

I am the woman
your mother warned you about
(let’s face it she was envious)
I have long since lost my place
that musty corner
to which I was relegated
where nice girls sit quietly
legs crossed and demure.

(what point is there in that?)

I turn heads with my stride
I watch the eyes track my steps
though I pause not
in my progress.

do they tremble at my purpose?
or pause at my vibrant colored sheath?

I will not wait
until you deem me old
to wear red with purple
as I rock bold iconoclasm.
I am that version of herself
where holds are not barred
by convention or whalebone stays

crash those barriers my friend
be they concrete or glass.

I AM that woman you were warned about
who will challenge your ass*umptions

prove each wrong
geometrically, logically

I speak without being spoken to
(Imagine the gall!)
I have opinions
Well thought and articulated
I will speak them
Still

Aurora Phoenix

 

Finding Peace In People’s Faces   3 comments

Kae Tempest (formerly Kate Tempest) — Source: scenestr.com

 
I’m a new fan of Kae Tempest, an English spoken word performer, poet,
recording artist, novelist, and playwright — a great performer by any measure.
 
— kenne
 
People’s Faces
 
[Verse 1]
It’s coming to pass, my country’s coming apart
The whole thing’s becoming such a bumbling farce
Was that a pivotal historical moment we just went stumbling past?
Well, here we are, dancing in the rumbling dark
So come a little closer, give me something to grasp
Give me your beautiful, crumbling heart
Another disaster, catharsis
Another half-discarded mirage
Another mask slips
I face off with the physical
My head’s ringing from the love of the stars
There is too much pretense here
Too much depends on the fragile wages
And extortionate rents here
We’re working every dread day that is given us
Feeling like the person people meet really isn’t us
Like we’re gonna buckle underneath the trouble
Like any minute now, the struggle’s going to finish us
And then we smile at all our friends
(Click Here for all Verses)

 

 
 
 

Sunset Over The Mountains   3 comments

Sunset Over the Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne

SUNSETS

Pink – orange sunsets
          like all those
                                          time-worn loves
Always smile down
                       upon me
          whispering how good they were
The days
                       and the involvements

I can never turn away
                        from a hiding sun
No more than I can blot out
                                          hidden memories

It’s the last few moments
                         of either
    that promise the most

Smugness in lovers
                          is tolerable
In a sunset
It’s devastating

— John Boynton

Sun sets Behind The Tucson Mountains   Leave a comment

Sun Sets Behind the Tucson Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Thoughts move slowly by

Sun sets behind the mountains

Colors take over.

— kenne

Daughter’s Delight — Love Is In The Air   Leave a comment

My mother, Agnes, talking to son, Tom as granddaughter, Katie looks on (04/11/04) — Image by kenne 

Love is in the air

A narrative not needed

The eyes tell it all.

— kenne

Black Swallowtail Butterfly   3 comments

Black Swallowtail (08/29/14) — Images by kenne

year twenty-twenty
a year not soon forgotten
crawl on our bellies

— kenne

Sunflower — Grunge Art   Leave a comment

Sunflower — Grunge Art by kenne

Sunflower

Night
has educated me
in the learned 
profession
of light.

— Lucha Corpi

Migration South   1 comment

Universal Flight” — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“When a person really desires something,
all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.”

“. . .when we strive to become better than we are,
everything around us becomes better, too.”

“The closer one gets to realizing his destiny,
the more that destiny becomes his true reason for being.”

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

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