Abstract Art — Photo-Artistry by kenne
What do you see there?
A bird’s nest?
A hand holding
A women’s breast?
Naked bodies dancing?
An old man sitting
Drunkenly on a barstool?
But, does it really matter
For time will remove the filters.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘Abstract Art’ Tag
Abstract Art — What Do You See? Leave a comment
Abstract Morning Leave a comment
Abstract Morning — Art by kenne
You should always know when
you’re shifting gears in life.
You should leave your era,
it should never leave you.
— Leontyne Price
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Chaos Leave a comment
Chaos — Abstract Art by kenne
I’m not sure the words ocean and sea
mean the same to you and me.
Ninety-five percent universal confusion,
dark matter was born with the legitimacy
of an onion, the roar of a lion.
I sit in the rumble seat of judgment,
I damn myself for entertainment,
for wasting time on hopeless entertainment.
I am guilty of snarling lines, Gordian
knots in my “Shakespeare” fishing reels.
I must untangle this because eels
have hearts like us. The enemy
is symmetry.
In the spring of content,
I trust glorious chaos. I smell in disorder
the outhouse of order.
— from Chaos by Stanley Moss
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Pipevine Swallowtail Abstract Leave a comment
Pipevine Swallowtail Abstract — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual.
Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom.
If one could but recall his vision by some sort of sign. It was in this hope that the arts were invented.
Sign-posts on the way to what may be. Sign-posts toward greater knowledge.”
— Robert Henri
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Mirror, Mirror On The Wall Leave a comment
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I saw her coming.
The version of myself I wanted to see,
I saw her in the corners of my eyes,
I felt her shouting at me from the future,
So loud I heard it through another dimension,
I felt her overwhelming confidence and
Clear sense of direction shaking the ground as I pass by her image
So much so that I forget about the past;
It melts away with her words, at her resurrection
As I make her come alive time after time,
My Alter Ego.
She lies within me and sometimes, if you look closely
You can see her within the cracks of my skin,
Beneath the fragments of my broken heart when,
Against all odds, I must find strength.
— from Alter Ego by Adrianna Franklin
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Birds Flying, An Abstract Leave a comment
Birds Flying, an Abstract — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Snowbirds
The big birds feel
it in their feathers
nature’s call
to start the long
flight to their
northern home
having spent
winter near shallow
desert waters.
— kenne
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Ground Zero Blues Club Leave a comment
Ground Zero Blues Club Memphis (01/21/10) — Abstract Art by kenne
“There are only two kinds of songs;
there’s the blues,
and there’s zip-a-dee-doo-dah.”
— Townes Van Zandt
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Pen and Color Desert Scene 7 comments
Pen and Color Desert Scene by kenne
Sonnet 73
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,Desert
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
— William Shakespeare
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Flight 1 comment
“Flight” (Sandhill Cranes at Whitewater Draw) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Flying Inside Your Own Body
Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
and your heart is light too & huge,
beating with pure joy, pure helium.
The sun’s white winds blow through you,
there’s nothing above you,
you see the earth now as an oval jewel,
radiant & seablue with love.
It’s only in dreams you can do this.
Waking, your heart is a shaken fist,
a fine dust clogs the air you breathe in;
the sun’s a hot copper weight pressing straight
down on the think pink rind of your skull.
It’s always the moment just before gunshot.
You try & try to rise but you cannot.
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
and your heart is light too & huge,
beating with pure joy, pure helium.
The sun’s white winds blow through you,
there’s nothing above you,
you see the earth now as an oval jewel,
radiant & seablue with love.
It’s only in dreams you can do this.
Waking, your heart is a shaken fist,
a fine dust clogs the air you breathe in;
the sun’s a hot copper weight pressing straight
down on the think pink rind of your skull.
It’s always the moment just before gunshot.
You try & try to rise but you cannot.
— Margaret Atwood
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A Galaxy Far, Far Away 1 comment
“A Galaxy Far, Far Away” — Abstract Art On A Cedar Plank by kenne
I have envied the four-moon planet.
— The Notebooks of Robert Frost
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Doubtful Canyon Abstract 1 comment
Doubtful Canyon — Abstract by kenne
Sky above
Earth below
Peace within
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Climate Change 13 comments
Climate Change — Abstract Art by kenne
black and gray
drowns
out the blue
oceans
full of plastic
poison
in our water
virus
in the air
deserts
are dryer
water
in the streets
glasers
are melting
forests
are burning
times
are changing
— kenne
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Death 1 comment
“Death” — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I don’t fear death so much as I fear its prologues:
loneliness,
decrepitude,
pain,
debilitation,
depression,
senility.
After a few years of those,
I imagine death presents like a
holiday at the beach.
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The Year Of The Bighorn Fire 2 comments
The Year of the Bighorn Fire and COVID In the Santa Catalina Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
our bad year that was
air filled with smoke and virus
one gone one here
— kenne
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Jabberwocky Moon Over The Tumtum Tree Leave a comment
Jabberwocky Moon Over the Tumtum Tree — Abstract Art by kenne
Jabberwocky
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
— Lewis Carroll
