Archive for the ‘Plants’ Tag
Arizona Fleabane Wildflowers — Image by kenne
PULL MY DAISY (III)
by Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassady
Pull my daisy
Tip my cup
Cut my thoughts
for coconuts
Jack my Arden
Gate my shades
Silk my garden
Rose my days
Bone my shadow
Dove my dream
Milk my mind &
Make me cream
Hop my heart on
Harp my height
Hip my angel
Hype my light
Heal the raindrop
Sow the eye
Woe the worm
Work the wise
Stop the hoax
Where’s the wake
What’s the box
How’s the Hicks
Rob my locker
Lick my rocks
Rack my lacks
Lark my looks
Whore my door
Beat my beer
Craze my hair
Bare my poor
Say my oops
Ope my shell
Roll my bones
Ring my bell
Pope my parts
Pop my pet
Poke my pap
Pit my plum
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Barrel Cactus Abstract — Image by kenne
Barrel Cactus — Image by kenne
Flowers On The Border — Image by kenne
The Flower Tree
Begin the song in pleasure,
singer, enjoy,
give pleasure to all,
even to Life Giver.
Yyeo ayahui ohuaya.)
Delight, for Life Giver adorns us.
All the flower bracelets,
your flowers, are dancing.
Our songs are strewn
in this jewel house,
this golden house.
The Flower Tree
grow and shakes,
already it scatters.
The quetzal breathes honey,
the golden quéchol breathes honey.
Ohuaya ohuaya.
You have transformed
into a Flower Tree,
you have emerged,
you bend and scatter.
You have appeared
before God’s face
as multi-colored flowers.
Ohuaya ohuaya.
Live here on earth, blossom!
As you move and shake,
flowers fall.
My flowers are eternal,
my songs are forever:
I raise them: I, a singer.
I scatter them,
I spill them,
the flowers become gold:
they are carried inside t
he golden place.
Ohuaya ohuyaya.
Flowers of raven,
flowers you scatter,
you let them fall
in the house of flowers.
Ohuaya ohuyaya.
Ah, yes: I am happy,
I prince NezahualCóyotl,
gathering jewels,
wide plumes of quetzal,
I contemplate
the faces of jades:
they are the princes!
I gaze into the faces
of Eagles and Jaguars,
and behold the faces
of jades and jewels!
Ohuaya ohuyaya.
We will pass away. I
, NezahualCóyotl, say, Enjoy!
Do we really live on earth?
Ohuaya ohuaya!
Not forever on earth,
only a brief time here!
Even jades fracture;
even gold ruptures,
even quetzal plumes tear:
Not forever on earth:
only a brief time here!
Ohuaya ohuaya!
— from The Flower Songs of Hungry Coyote, translations by John Curl
Desert Grass Image by kenne
It’s Strange How Deserts Turn Us into Believers
by Terry Tempest Williams
I believe in walking in a landscape of mirages,
because you learn humility.
I believe in living in a land of little water,
because life is drawn together.
And I believe in the gathering of bones
as a testament to spirits that have moved on.
If the desert is holy, it is because it is a forgotten place
that allows us to remember the sacred.
Perhaps that is why every pilgrimage to the desert
is a pilgrimage to the self.
There is no place to hide and so we are found.
One of my favorite desert poems.
kenne
Image by kenne
Morning Flowers — Image by kenne
Wildflowers Color The Mountain Meadows From Blossom To Blossom — Image by kenne
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
— from the Li-Young Lee poem “From Blossoms”
- Grow as the wildflowers grow! (suewestwood.wordpress.com)
- my very own wildflower meadow (wisejourney.wordpress.com)
- Wildflowers: A Field Guide (julieriso.wordpress.com)
- I love wildflowers. There, I said it. (planetbell.me)
- Wildflowers in the mountains (elenawil.wordpress.com)
- Wildflowers (rmcornelius.blogspot.com)
- An introduction to Wildflowers (showyourroots.wordpress.com)
- “My Indigo” by Li-Young Lee (poetsgeneration.wordpress.com)
- “From Blossoms” by Li-Young Lee (poetsgeneration.wordpress.com)
Bee In Flight Over Western Sneezeweed — Image by kenne
For myself I hold no preferences among flowers,
so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous.
Bricks to all greenhouses!
Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!
—Edward Abbey
Image by kenne
When you take a flower
in your hand
and really look at it,
it’s your world for the moment.
I want to give that world
to someone else.
Most people in the city
rush around so,
they have no time
to look at a flower.
I want them to see it
whether they want to or not.
— Georgia O’Keeffe
Aspen Sunflowers In Blue — Image by kenne
Not found in farm fields
preferring fern’s company
beneath forest shade.
— kenne
Cutleaf Evening Primrose — Image by kenne
Evening Primrose
When once the sun sinks in the west,
And dewdrops pearl the evening’s breast;
Almost as pale as moonbeams are,
Or its companionable star,
The evening primrose opes anew
Its delicate blossoms to the dew;
And, hermit-like, shunning the light,
Wastes its fair bloom upon the night,
Who, blindfold to its fond caresses,
Knows not the beauty it possesses;
Thus it blooms on while night is by;
When day looks out with open eye,
Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun,
It faints and withers and is gone.
— John Clare
Carpenter Bees
Images Taken On Mt. Lemmon by kenne
Like honey bees, carpenter bees feed on pollen and nectar. They do not eat wood, but use exposed dead wood to tunnel into the wood creating galleries for their nests. These bees are not social like honey bees, living a solitary life in their galleries.
kenne
Arizona Thistle (Cirsium arizonicum) — Images by kenne
This flower is loved by hummingbirds.
Psychedelic Thistle — Image by kenne
— psychedelic thistle
On the Catalina’s
highest points
“thistles spike
the summer air “
now captured
in my mind’s eye
this Scottish rose
becomes my muse
as I raise a glass
of whiskey
to the dancing maids
of the highlands
in festive colors
that warm my blood
coloring different parts
of my brain
each overflowing
into the other
altering my state
of awareness
creating a new flow
yet another
basis of reality.
kenne
Hooker’s Evening Primrose — Image by kenne
A lady of the evening
beckoning in the twilight breeze
along the highway of curves
always tender to the stroke
opening enticing arms
not asking very much
just a one-night stand
changing color by daylight
kissed by the mountain dew.
— kenne
— psychedelic thistle
On the Catalina’s
highest points
“thistles spike
the summer air “
now captured
in my mind’s eye
this Scottish rose
becomes my muse
as I raise a glass
of whiskey
to the dancing maids
of the highlands
in festive colors
that warm my blood
coloring different parts
of my brain
each overflowing
into the other
altering my state
of awareness
creating a new flow
yet another
basis of reality.
kenne
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