Archive for the ‘Mushrooms’ Tag

Mushrooms Steps   Leave a comment

Doves, Lightening, HikingMushrooms Steps — Computer Painting by kenne

The Night Serpent

If mushrooms were to
grow backward,
what would the
wee people sit on
under the stars to
watch nude maidens
dance to the night serpent’s
pulsating drum beat?

— kenne

Mt. Lemmon Mushrooms   Leave a comment

Naturalists On Lemmon MeadowMt. Lemmon Mushrooms — Computer Art by kenne

To be old can be glorious if one has not unlearned how to begin.

— Martin Buber

Psychedelic Mushrooms   Leave a comment

SCVN Nature Walk 08-15-12, Marshall GulchPsychedelic Mushrooms — Computer art by kenne

Engrossing as a black hole
or your TV screen. I send out
no powers: I accept all
energies, all joys and juices . . .

–from “Dr. P.H.D. Dark, Hypnotist” by W.D. Snodgrass

Deep In The Mountain Woods   Leave a comment

Mushrooms (1 of 1) blogMushrooms — Image by kenne

I look through the hole and saw a landscape like that behind
our home, uncared for, and wild. I moved back a few steps
because I sensed vaguely that something was about to  happen.

— from Childhood and Poetry, by Pablo Neruda

Mushrooms on a Moss Covered Log   3 comments

Mushrooms (1 of 1)-2 blogMushrooms on a Moss Covered Log, Santa Catalina Mountains (August 5, 2016) — Image by kenne

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric,
but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.

— William Butler Yates

Pleasing Fungus Beetle   Leave a comment

Buttrtfly Trail

Pleasing Fungus Beetle on a Mushroom, Mt. Lemmon, Arizona — Image by kenne

I’m a bright blue bug

did you know I aim to please

most people don’t care

— kenne

 

Air, Soil, Water, Fire — Those Are Words   2 comments

Mushrooms (1 of 1)-10 art_edited-1 blogMushrooms in the Fourteen year-old Mt. Lemmon Aspen Fire — Image by kenne

Air, soil, water, fire—those are words,
I myself am a word with them—my qualities interpenetrated with
theirs—my name is nothing to them,
Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would
air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?

— from A Song of the Rolling Earth by Walt Whitman

My Mushroom Madness   Leave a comment

Mushrooms (1 of 1)-2 Grunge Art blog“My Mushroom Madness” — Images by kenne

“We work in the dark –

we do what we can –

we give what we have.

Our doubt is our passion,

and our passion is our task.

The rest is the madness of art.”

— Henry James

Mushroom August 21, 2015-8556 Grunge Art blog

I possess a powerful transforming urge.

— kenne

Floating Mushrooms   1 comment

Floating Mushrooms on Butterfly Trail (1 of 1)-2 blog“Floating Mushrooms” — Image by kenne

These mushrooms

could be

on your wall

or

floating in your head,

either way

the mind games

keep on playing

each projecting 

images in

space and

time.

— kenne

The Three Mushrooms In Marshall Gulch   1 comment

Mushrooms (1 of 1)-2 blogThe Three Mushrooms in Marshall Gulch ( August 14, 2015) — Image by kenne

they watch me 

take a photo,

or two —

trying different 

angles

to get the best

lighting.

— kenne

Kenne Taking Photo (1 of 1) blogImage by Phil Bentley

Mushroom Galaxy   2 comments

Mushrooms (1 of 1)-4 Galaxy blogMushroom Galaxy — Image by kenne

Not too long ago
in a underground galaxy
not too far, far away . . .

kenne

Mushrooms On The Mountain   2 comments

Mushrooms on Butterfly Trail (1 of 1) blogMushrooms On the Mountain (Butterfly Trail, Santa Catalina Mountains)– Image by kenne

Wild Mushrooms: Weird Is A Side Effect Of Awesome   3 comments

Mushrooms on Butterfly Trail (1 of 1)-3 art blogWild Mushrooms: Weird Is A Side Effect Of Awesome — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Capturing The Moment — Mushrooms Pushing Up   Leave a comment

mushrooms (1 of 1)_edit blogMushrooms — Image by kenne

Santa Catalina Mountains Mushroom   2 comments

Mushroom (1 of 1)-2 blog

Mushroom (1 of 1)-3 blogSanta Catalina Mountains Mushroom (August 29, 2014) — Images by kenne

MUSHROOMS

Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot’s in the door.

Sylvia Plath