Romero Pools, Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
A friend is someone whose story you have heard.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘Existential Moment’ Tag
A Friend 1 comment
A Mother’s Boy Remembers His Mom On Mother’s Day 1 comment
Agnes on Valentine’s Day 2004 At Her Assisted Living Facility, Spring Texas — Image by kenne
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did, but people
will never forget how you made them feel.”
―
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Easter Is Gone, But Not The Bunny In The Moment Leave a comment
Easter Is Gone, But Not The Bunny — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Existence only becomes clear through reason;
reason only has content through existence.
By philosophizing, I seek to call attention to the limits of knowledge,
not with the skeptical purpose of disposing of knowledge altogether,
but rather in order to let the truth which always lies just beyond
those limits shine through for a moment.”
— kenne
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Property Line Outside Tucson Leave a comment
Property Line Outside Tucson– Image by kenne
Three Sketches of Anxiety
I’ve got two hands and an urge
to yank out your teeth,
my lover said, dropping the dress
she made from my shirt
to the floor, to see the landscape
a mouth of holes might look like.
Maybe jagged potholes on a rainslick
street, she said, climbing over
the bed. Maybe, she winked, a prairie
dog town in West Texas after a flood.
—Curtis Bauer
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Rurrenabaque Airport Cafe Leave a comment
Airport Cafe, Rurrenabaque, Bolivia (RBQ)– 08/19/19 Image by kenne
Rurrenabaque, a port city on the Beni River, is one of the main entrances to the Madidi National Park.
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Stumble On Leave a comment
Hiking Shoes — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Stumble On
My hiking shoes rest in the garage
Next to the hiking poles, yet
I continue to stumble on —
Stumble on down life’s path.
A life of jogging, enduring pain
Followed by a decade of hiking
Enduring pain in an old man’s body,
Yet I continue to stumble on —
Stumble on down life’s path
Trying not to let a stumble
Become a fall on life’s path.
— kenne
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An Old Man’s Goal 4 comments
self-portrait
An Old Man’s Goal
To walk the earth
as long as I can
feeling the earth
benight my feet
learning from nature
becoming free of my
own freedom.
— kenne
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Sea Of Cortez Sunset Leave a comment
Sea of Cortez Sunset (02/11/16) — Image by kenne
3/12/86/ #3 I asked my dad why he didn’t worship Ricky Ricardo,
who was Latin, instead of Ward Cleaver who was white.
Because Ricky Ricardo is not Mexican. He’s Cuban.
But Ward Cleaver’s not Mexican.
No, but he’s not Cuban.
And that was that.
— from the Aztec love god by Tony Diaz
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The Woods Do That To You . . . 1 comment
Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
“I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all.
The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost,
like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream,
like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water,
most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or
past manhood and all the living and the dying and the
heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds
as they pass overhead seem to testify
(by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.”
–Jack Kerouac
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Imitative Realism 2 comments
Imitative Realism — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The poetry of the earth is never dead.”
― John Keats
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In The Darkness 2 comments
Hall View — Photo-Artistry by kenne
In The Darkness
I sit and stare out
Trying to see through the black
As moments go by.
Black moments aren’t long
Yet can be very scary
View of life changes
A new perspective
Delivering a new worth
On aging and time.
Shaken to the core
Seeing real-life at last
Closeness without fear.
— kenne
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Spring Flowers Along The Trail Leave a comment
Spring Flowers Along The Trail — Image by kenne
“I dream of a quiet man
who explains nothing
and defends nothing,
but only knows where
the rarest wildflowers
are blooming…”
— Wendell Berry
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What Makes A Poem? Leave a comment
Kenne David and Katelyn — Photo-Artistry by kenne
A CHILD ASKS WHAT MAKES A POEM?
At the top of the pass
the trail crosses a rockfall,
a slope of loose slate
as old as the mountain,
as deep as the valley below.
Out of the rocks
an arch has been stacked,
straddling the path.
The stones, tall enough
for a tall man, lean at the top
until gravity tips them together
in a curve as clean as the arc
of the earth.
The arch should not stand.
No mortar, no scaffold of sticks.
No tricks of buttress or blocking.
Only this surprising geometry
of stones balanced across the sky.
Not a slate out of place.
Picked from the rockpile
by a painstaking hand,
the chosen few remain,
stacked by shape
and grain and weight.
At the top of the world, a gate.
— Lanny Ledeboer:
Katelyn (03/15/17) — Image by kenne
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Zion National Park Leave a comment
Zion National Park (June 10, 2014) — Image by kenne
A park not to love
Dramatic rock formations
Ancient rocks of art.
Ansel Adams views
At the push of a button
We are the keepers.
— kenne
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Growing Old Together Leave a comment
Growing Old Together — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Every heart sings a song, incomplete,
until another heart whispers back.
Those who wish to sing always find a song.
At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.”
―
Becoming is Superior to Being 