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
Archive for the ‘Love’ Tag
Daughter’s Delight — Love Is In The Air Leave a comment
Love Is Itself Unmoving 5 comments
Chase Morris — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement,
Timeless, and undesiring
Except in the aspect of time
Caught in the form of limitation
Between un-being and being.
— Four Quarters by T.S. Eliot
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Twenty-Year-Old B&W Photo 2 comments
Twenty-Year-Old B&W Photo — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Twenty-year-old B&W photo
Our smiles tell the story
We were both in our 50s
Wiser now in our 70s
Living each day knowing not
What tomorrow may bring
Not living the stories of the past
Living each moment holding hands
Throughout all these rumbling years
Time has brought about changes
Still, our love for each other
And our smiles remains the same
— kenne
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24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home — #1 Leave a comment
Thomas R. Turner (May 23, 1942–November 13, 2014) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
This posting is the first of several I will be sharing from a long poem written by Tom
sometime around 1980 after his wife left him. Today is the fifth anniversary of his death.
24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home
(Taken from a Brooklyn Bus Route and the Title of a Blues Album.)
Standing above me in Smith's room
Awkwardly looking down through a clipped hesitancy
Our lives came together.
TURNER
With all the ambiguity that last name usage implies
Was what she called me.
Mannerisms of ingenuousness and a tendency toward the atypical
Bespoke your ambiance
(Ineffably I wanted Her)
That voice -
Falsetto
Laced in bursts of Peter's guffaws
Seemed contrived with a dreamed-of authenticity.
(Your mouth, my love,the
thistle in the kiss?)
From within mutually cancelling
Vignettes of naturalness and gender-cliche'
She kissed through closed lips of
Pristine openness.
Innocently I loved.
Through summer notes of vulnerability
Together we embraced an entangled growth of uncertainty
(Our fictions were tempered in
a painful and inward time)
Desperate needs equivocated against ordained directions and
Dead-end holdings of night-bakery-work.
Even then yours wasn't other-directed but
A need to keep the Self-absorption of your Ann Arbor soul on a
Pedastal of conforming difference.
Eliptically we lived in the interstices
Between an illusion of
Fulfillment and letters etched with
"Know what?"
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Words Are Powerful! 4 comments
Joy and Kenne Celebrating Her Birthday July 24, 2011
Hugging-Words — Source PVE
As we grow old, remember to stay young.
As we grow wiser, remember to stay foolish.
As we grow weak, remember to stay strong.
As we grow dull, remember to stay sexy.
As we grow stupid, remember to stay sensible.
As we grow suspicious, remember to stay trusting.
As we grow forgetful, remember to stay attentive.
As we grow gloomy, remember to stay cheerful.
As we grow conventional, remember to stay enlightened.
As we grow frail, remember to stay sturdy.
As we grow, may we stay forever
young,
foolish,
strong,
sexy,
sensible,
trusting,
attentive,
cheerful,
enlightened, and
sturdy — simple words to live by.
Words are powerful!
Why?
Because they can hurt and
they can bring people together.
Both acts have powerful results.
Words divide us.
However,
the power of words
is that once divided,
they can be used
to bring us back together.
We should not allow words
to change our relationships,
because unlike the cucumber
that becomes a pickle
and can never be a cucumber again,
we can break down the walls that divide.
kenne
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Been Here Before — A Valentine Message Leave a comment
Afternoon Delight — Image by kenne
I’ve been here before
known this place
walked this floor
lived here alone
before, I knew you.
You became my
photographic muse
an afternoon delight
laying on a bed of red
shadows of natural light.
Blue, blue windows
opened to the sky
clouds move by
casting moments
to dream by.
Morning would come
roosters crowing
at the break of dawn
sheets still damp
moments to live by.
Imagine yesterday’s
times we’ve shared
becoming memories
fueling our tomorrows
filled with timeless love.
Now, everyone can see
you belong to me
knowing it’s so
hard to love, still
we share the look
of satisfaction.
— kenne
(With thanks to Leonard Cohn.)
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Star-flowered Solomon’s Seal with Brain Droppings Growing Into Thoughts Leave a comment
Star-flowered Solomon’s Seal Wildflower on Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
BRAIN DROPPINGS GROWING INTO THOUGHTS
Seeds waiting for gentle rain
Wildflowers rising out of time
Looking for the god of rain, Tlaloc
Hiking on a rainy afternoon
Trails temporarily becoming streams
Ferns moving in joyful motion
Standing still in the breeze
A poem with silent words
Being in rhythm with nature
Moving on toward oblivion
Eyes looking out of the darkness
Things of the spirit left behind
Words strange to my lips
Kika and the tree lizards
Happiness is a tiny white flower
Writing memories on the trails of time
Taking the ordinary to a new level
Looking for a poem outside the words
Living in knowledge without knowing
Scoring love by the number of sunsets shared
— kenne
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Lemon Tree Blossom Leave a comment
Lemon Tree Blossom — Computer Art by kenne
“True love opens the gates of time.
— Neil Young
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At The End Of Day 1 comment
At The End Of Day (Tanuri Ridge, March 25, 2017) — Panorama by kenne
At the end of day
Life gathers the day’s moments
Thoughts of love and peace.
— kenne
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Thomas Robert Turner, Two Years Out 3 comments
Thomas Robert Turner, May 23, 1942 – November 13, 2014
I love you, Bobby!
On this day as I have many days since his passing,
I read from the many notes, letters and emails
I now cherish as he seems to grow bigger than
life with each passing day, just like children sleeping
his being inside me can’t be dreamed away.
The many words he shared can be taken away,
but not the love that keeps growing in
the soul of my very being.
He left for me many literary and philosophical
examples to live by, probably not knowing they
would continue to shape my very being as I
continue my journey in other people’s reality.
One was a quote by Paul Lafargue:
“Healthy in body and mind, I end my life before pitiless old age
which has taken from me my pleasures and joys one after another;
and which has been stripping me of my physical and mental powers,
can paralyse my energy and break my will,
making me a burden to myself and to others.
For some years I had promised myself not to live beyond 70;
and I fixed the exact year for my departure from life.”
He was 72.
— kenne
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30 Years of Togetherness — Some kind of lovely ride. 11 comments
Kenne & Joy, Las Vegas, 1989.
We were a couple for 16 years before getting married May 18, 2002 in Los Vegas. Thirty years of togetherness, but who’s counting.
“The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.”
Secret O’ Life
The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.
Any fool can do it, there ain’t nothing to it.
Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill.
But since we’re on our way down, we might as well enjoy the ride.
The secret of love is in opening up your heart.
It’s okay to feel afraid, but don’t let that stand in your way.
Cause anyone knows that love is the only road.
And since we’re only here for a while, might as well show some style. Give us a smile.
Isn’t it a lovely ride? Sliding down, gliding down,
try not to try too hard, it’s just a lovely ride.
Now the thing about time is that time isn’t really real.
It’s just your point of view, how does it feel for you?
Einstein said he could never understand it all.
Planets spinning through space, the smile upon your face, welcome to the human race.
Some kind of lovely ride. I’ll be sliding down, I’ll be gliding down.
Try not to try too hard, it’s just a lovely ride.
Isn’t it a lovely ride? Sliding down, gliding down,
try not to try too hard, it’s just a lovely ride.
The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.
— James Taylor
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Kate & Matt Eleven Years Out Leave a comment
Beautiful Daughter Kate and Husband Matt ( April 1, 2005) — Image by kenne
Love is not found in someone else,
but in ourselves; we simply awaken it.
But in order to do that, we need the other person.
from Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho
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New Grunge Art Leave a comment
Grunge Art by kenne
The wise are wise
only because they love.
The fool are fools
only because
they think they
can understand love.
— Paulo Coelho
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It’s A Beautiful Day Leave a comment
Sunset Over The Tucson Mountains (December 6, 2015) — Image by kenne
“It’s a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It’s a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away”
“We choose love over fear.”
— U2
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“I step aboard the orchid boat . . . a picture held us captive” 1 comment
“I step aboard the orchid boat” — Image by kenneDepartures
by Lee Harwood
A hot summer night,
the sound of rain in the courtyard.
A satin breeze
sways the curtains.
She wrote
‘Gently I open
my silk dress and float alone
on the orchid boat. Who can
take a letter beyond the clouds?’ *
All those years ago
And he wrote
‘A picture held us captive and we
could not get outside it.’
When the winter came
she wrote
‘I put on my new quilted robe
sewn with gold thread.’ **
—that face, the tilt of those shoulders
Is that how you saw it?
Passing a mirror in a dusky corridor
—that face, the tilt of those shoulders.
Or in the bright light of morning
the details of your face in that mirror
—a picture, as though set, that maps
the wear of years, dreams,
that this is where we’ve come to,
and the future best left to itself.
The letter will reach the other side of the mountains,
clouds will roll back clear of the summits.
What was needed was done, but never done,
it’s never done.
Plodding along the mountain path—
drifts of rain, streams sweeping across the path,
cloud so low you can barely see the path
as you stumble on loose rock.
How to imagine an orchid boat?
It gets harder. But days come and go,
the sun comes out and everything seems to sparkle
and the letter spirals away.
The picture in the mirror seemed so real,
though only caught that imprisoning moment.
A golden leaf in autumn spins into a dark river
where the currents dance it underwater back and forth, side to side.
Without thinking
I step aboard the orchid boat,
the feel of silk
carrying me beyond all mirrors.
— from The Orchid Boat, by Lee Harwood
I step aboard the orchid boat — Images by kenne
