Archive for the ‘Poet’ Tag

Pay Attention Like A Poet   3 comments

Twl-art-blog“Twig” — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Pay attention like a poet
and you will find a story.
Each twig on a bush

begins to be the story itself,
providing a basic truth
from which you can exaggerate,
but you’re still working with the basic truth.

— kenne

“Poetry is just the evidence of Life” — Leonard Cohen ~ 1934-2016   Leave a comment

leonard-cohenLeonard Cohen — Image source:

This morning I learned of the passing of one of North America’s greatest poets, novelists, and singer/songwriters of our time. Like many others who listen to public radio, it was just a few days ago I was listening to KCRW’s Chris Douridas interview Cohen after the release of his latest album, “You Want It Darker.” At 82, he had not been in the best of health, but such news always carries an element of surprise. Click here to listen to the Chris Douridas.


Hallelujah — Leonard Cohen (YouTube Video)




Wisdom of Art   1 comment

Two-Tailed Swallowtail Butterflies (1 of 6)-Art blog“Wisdom of Art” — Computer Art by kenne

“This is the wisdom of art, the knowledge that beauty perhaps is the one undeniably unique attribute of the human.”

— C. K. Williams

Alone In The Night Shadows II   6 comments

Milagrosa Loop-9084_Alone In The Night Shadows II Moon blogAlone In The Night Shadows II — Image by kenne

Alone in the night shadows

Abandoned in the darkness

Tall sentinels raise their arms

In the light of the full moon

Facing the old ranch house

Where the poet is signing

As the night-raven sings

In concert with howling coyotes

Under the alluring moonlight.

– kenne

Alone In The Night Shadows   2 comments

Milagrosa Loop-9084 Sepia blogAlone In The Night Shadows — Image by kenne

Alone in the night shadows

Abandoned in the darkness

Tall sentinels raise their arms

When the full moon is out

Facing the old ranch house

Where the poet is signing

As the night-raven sings

In concert with howling coyotes

Under the trembling moonlight.

— kenne

Charles Bukowski: A Bio Poem   2 comments

Charles Bukowski Art Quote blogImage by kenne

Charles Bukowski: A Bio Poem

there was a
Charles Bukowski
sad eyes
weary voice
a poet-recluse

writing about
down and outs
skid row
relationships with women

German American
raised catholic
shy, alienated
teenage acne
desperate days of the

great depression

Los Angeles City College
flirted with the far right

grew bored
failed a physical and
psychological exam
classified 4-f
“on a Santa Monica Monday”

first story
published at 24
grew disillusioned
quit writing
“on the sidewalk
and in the sun”

ten-year drunk
bleeding ulcer
nearly died
begin writing poetry

first wife
small town Texas poet
decapitated in India
religious zealots
obscure cult

traumatized by wife’s death
resulting in a
powerful series of poems
“I hold fast to me,
that’s all there is.”

series of muses
a daughter
ten years with post office

wrote a column
notes of a
dirty old man

quit the post office
decided to starve
full-time writer
a loner

unable to live alone
“because I’ve got
a pocket full of dreams…”

move to San Pedro
married Linda
referred to as Sara
died at 73

many consider
Bukowski’s writings
those of a taboo
male fantasy

“they say that
nothing is wasted
either that
it all is.”

— kenne

Charles Bukowski in Ham On Rye writes of Henry Chinaski, his raw voice alter ego having a beer with Becker:

“. . . I’d like to be a correspondent in Washington, D.C. I’d like to be where big things are happening.”
“Washington’s crap, Becker.”
“And women? Marriage? Children?”
“Yeah? Well, what do you want?”
“To hide.”
“You poor fuck. You need another beer.”
“All right.”
The beer arrived.

Buk31Source: Booktryst

“The difference between life and art is art is more bearable.”
– Charles Bukowski


Decoding Poetry — Revisited   5 comments

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAJ Murphy — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Decoding Poetry

what is it?

Is it not all things
we experience —


In human existence?

some claim
the words of poetry,

as if anointed
announcing to the world,
“I know the code!”

Poetry is not a code,
allowing entrance
only to a few
fettered and packaged
for the scholarly.

If I experience
my life
in the words of another,
is it poetry?

For it is I
who holds the code
to my existence.

In the end,
there is no right
or wrong answer –

Poetry is like dancing,
if it feels good,
do it!

— kenne

Capturing The Moment — Little Snow-Covered Tree: “Noel Noel”   3 comments

Little Tree In Snow blogMt. Lemmon, December 22, 2011 — Image by Kenne

New snow-covered tree

Dressed white in forest shadows

Stood bent before me.


little tree


little tree

little silent Christmas tree

you are so little

you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest

and were you very sorry to come away?

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don’t be afraid

look the spangles

that sleep all the year in a dark box

dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms

and i’ll give them all to you to hold

every finger shall have its ring

and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you’re quite dressed

you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see

and how they’ll stare!

oh but you’ll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands

and looking up at our beautiful tree

we’ll dance and sing

“Noel Noel”

4th Avenue Street Fair Fall 2012 109 blogImage by kenne


Looking Back At The First Posting Of 2011   Leave a comment

The year began with the following posting:

On the same day the Blues world lost one of its own (Mean Gene Kelton) , I received word that one of the past Writers In Performance Emily Dickinson  panelist, Susan Bright, long time poet / publisher (Plainview Press) succumbed to liver cancer. Susan was author of 19 books of poetry, three of which have been recipients of Austin Book Awards. As editor/publisher of Plain View Press since 1975, she had published 100 books. Her work as a poet, publisher, activist and educator has taken her all over the United States. Montgomery County Literary Arts Council founder, Dave Parsons shared in an email how Susan adored swimming at Barton Springs, “. . . which of course, made her my blood-sister…she was a real force for poets in Texas…here is a poem she wrote which has been published on Facebook as a fitting tribute:”

Mother Fish

The Swimmers,
the real ones
are clear
and emerald
like the water
that pulses
up from the center
of the planet
and cold.

blend with the water
so fast
you don’t see them
except when
they get in
or out–
they are invisible
once they’re

They dry off
and go
but the essence
stays with
a glow
just below the surface
of the skin–
emerald light.

~Susan Bright – from “House of the Mother”, Austin Book Award, 1994


Decoding Poetry   15 comments

“Snakes On The Wall” — Photoshop Art by kenne

Decoding Poetry

What is it?
Is it not all things

In human existence?

Is it not all things

Of human experience?

Some claim
The words of poetry,
As if anointed
Announcing to the world,
“I know the code!”

Poetry is not code,
Allowing entrance
Only to a few
Fettered and packaged
For the scholarly.

If I experience
My own life
In the words of another,
It is poetry —

For it is I
Who holds the code
To my existence.

In the end,
There is no right
Nor wrong answer —

Poetry is like dancing,
If it feels good,

Do it!

— kenne


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