
Prickly Pear Cactus — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Winter hangs on
in the cold air
hugging its
bare bones.
— kenne
Prickly Pear Cactus — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Sunset Art by kenne (2009)
— kenne
Ocotillo Blossom — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— from “Requiem for Sonora” by Richard Shelton
Santa Fe Sculpture (Humankind) — Image by kenne
Mourning Doves Looking For A Nest Building Place — Image by kenne
The poem and music bring back a lot of fond memories.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry Taking chances, writing in different directions.
1- We were naked, we twisted our bodies into a unfinished puzzle and we shared wild dreams.
We talked and we used twisted words.
Did we show real face, did we do, just enough?
………………………………………..
2- We knew the thirst,
we pledged broken promises and I saw broken skin.
I kissed sacred scars and I made you smile.
Was dead midnight and we did the liar’s prayer.
……………………………………………….
Kelli, skin so smoothed, so sweet.
You wanted the moon and I wanted your kiss.
You were wild fire and I was quiet lake.
In dreams, our loved lived and I remember the most beautiful girl, I ever knew.
Dancing Coyote
So true!
the leader
doesn’t know where his followers have gone
he walked too far into the desert
he said too many wrong things
many of his followers died (they were retirement age)
he should have recruited young girls
but it’s too difficult to stimulate them with words
he’s competing with:
vibrators
men who drive BMWs
and TikTok.
It’s time to end this poem.
Looking South from Lower Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
— kenne
Death In The Desert — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Requien for Sonora”
1
a small child of a wind
stumbles toward me down the arroyo
lost and carrying no light
tearing its sleeves
on thorns of the palo verde
talking to itself
and to the dark shapes it touches
searching for what it has not lost
and will never find
searching
and lonelier
than even I can imagine
the moon sleeps
with her head on the buttocks of a young hill
and you lie before me
under moonlight as if under water
oh my desert
the coolness of your face
2
men are coming inland to you
soon they will make you the last resort
for tourists who have
nowhere else to go
what will become of the coyote
with eyes of topaz
moving silently to his undoing
the ocotillo
flagellant of the wind
the deer climbing with dignity
further into the mountains
the huge delicate saguaro
what will become of those who cannot learn
the terrible knowledge of cities
3
years ago I came to you as a stranger
and have never been worthy
to be called your lover or to speak your name
loveliest
most silent sanctuary
more fragile than forests
more beautiful than water
I am older and uglier
and full of the knowledge
that I do not belong to beauty
and beauty does not belong to me
I have learned to accept
whatever men choose to give me
or whatever they choose to withhold
but oh my desert
yours is the only death I cannot bear
— Richard Shelton
“Friends” — Image by kenne
— kenne
Talk about the basics of life!
Play
Create
Experiment
It’s in challenge and engagement we find flow.
The effects of flow are felt long after the experience of flow.
Be Courageous!
Be curious. Explore. Learn.
Do it just because.
Your creativity will soar…
And maybe your creations will smile back at you 😊
I just learned this morning from my good friend Dave Parsons on Facebook that Wendy Barker died recently. Dave wrote:
“I am in shock and pain learning that my longtime friend and co-editor has died. The memories flood back. She was our first Emily Dickinson scholar when we began the annual Emily birthday celebration. Unlike many of us, her poems got better and better…her last books were brilliant, and “Weave,” her latest new and collected, is a true treasury of her life’s work. I am reminded of the indispensable Carol King album, “Tapestry.” She had the most incredible empathetic heart…irreplaceable spirit.”
Over the years, I took many photos and videos of Wendy reading her poetry at the Writers In Performance Series. She was a beautiful person. This reblog from August 2010 contains a link to a December 2009 posting, including one of the videos. She was so much a part of our Emily Dickinson Birthday Celebrations. — kenne
Wendy seems like a close friend. We have met only on special occasions. Birthday parties, Emily Dickinson birthday parties. So often over the years, Wendy is my picture of Emily. Why not? I have photos of Wendy on those special occasions when we shared our appreciation and love for Emily Dickinson’s poetry. As much as I may love poetry, it is the spoken word that really touches me. Only then can I see the poets mannerisms, hear the voice annunciation and feel the emotions of the moment. Wendy came to fill the void through which Emily and I have become friends. Wendy has added color to sepia, she is my muse.
So, it’s no wonder that when Wendy was schedule to read her own poetry at a Writers In Performance Series last December, I could help but feel that Emily Dickinson was coming to read Wendy Barker
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Wildflowers in Picacho Peak State Park — Images by kenne
Upper Sabino Canyon in the Santa Catalina Mountains, as Seen from Blackett’s Ridge — Image by kenne
— kenne
Hiking Blackett’s Ridge — Image by kenne
— kenne