Great Horned Owl Landing — Photo-Artistry by kenne
An owl landed
in a nearby tree
in the light of day
perfect for
taking photos.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Tag
Great Horned Owl Landing 2 comments
Expectations: Tomorrow Is Not Promised Leave a comment
Photo-Artistry by kenne
Expectations
Who are you,
you who share
my very existence
with your expectations,
sometimes calling them
traditions,
placing more value
on the worth
of your expectations,
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of my very being.
Who am I,
I who share
your very existence
with my expectations,
sometimes calling them
logical
placing more value
on the worth of my expectations,
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of your very being.
Who are we,
we who share
a finite existence
with our expectations,
sometimes calling them
unconditional
placing more value
on the worth of our expectations
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of a finite being.
Who are they,
they who share
our very existence
with their expectations,
sometimes calling them
laws
placing more value
on the worth of their expectations
unwilling to understand
neither the what
nor the why
of our very being.
Who are We
We who share
an infinite existence
with our expectations,
sometimes calling them
spiritual
placing more value
on the worth of all expectations
willing to understand
both the what
and the why
of a universal being.
— kenne
(. . . He celebrates and spurns
His driftwood eighty-first wind turned age;
Herons spire and spear.*)
*Dylam Thomas, “Poem On His Birthday”
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Garcia Lorca — Gacela of the Dark Death Leave a comment
August 19th, 1936 — Federico García Lorca dies. Andalusian poet/dramatist/artist. Murdered by Franco’s fascists.
Accused of subversive activity, however evidence today suggests that it was a hate crime in response to his homosexuality.
His writings remained censored until Franco died in 1975. Despite this, Lorca became one of the
most widely read writers in the world.
Gacela of the Dark Death
I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of cemeteries,
I want to sleep the dream of that child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas?
I don’t want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood,
that the putrid mouth goes on asking for water.
I don’t want to learn of the tortures of the grass,
nor of the moon with a serpent’s mouth
that labors before dawn.
I want to sleep awhile,
awhile, a minute, a century;
but all must know that i have not died;
that there is a stable of gold in my lips;
that i am the small friend of the West wing;
that i am the intense shadow of my tears.
Cover me at dawn with a veil.
because dawn will throw fistfuls of ants at me.
and wet with hard water my shoes
so that the pincers of the scorpion slide.
For i want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to learn a lament that will cleanse me of the earth;
for i want to live with that dark child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.
— Federico Garcia Lorca
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A Fun Day On The Beach Leave a comment
A Fun Day On The Beach (August 2021)– Photo-Artistry by kenne
On this winter day
it’s nice to look
back on the fun
days of summer
being in the sun
with bikini-clad girls.
Eye popping!
— kenne
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Barn Owl Up Close 2 comments
Barn Owl Up Close — Image by kenne
Nature is not to be
put in order,
nature is order.
We must put
ourselves
in accord
with this order.
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I Am The People — Leave a comment
“The Worker” — Image by kenne
I AM the people — the mob — the crowd — the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of this world is
done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the
world’s food & clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons
come from me & the Lincolns. They die. &
then I send forth more Napoleons & Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand
for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me.
I forget. The best of me is sucked out & wasted.
I forget. Everything but Death comes to me &
makes me work & give up what I have. & I forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself & spatter a few red
drops for history to remember. Then — I forget.
When I, the people, learn to remember, when I, the People
use the lessons of yesterday & no longer forget
who robbed me last year, who played me for
a fool — then there will be no speaker in all the world
say the name: “The People”, with any fleck of a
sneer in his voice or any far off smile of derision.
The mob — The crowd — The mass — will arrive then.
— Carl Sandburg
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Ferry To Copacabana — The Return Leave a comment
Taking the Ferry To Copacabana the Main Bolivian Town On the shore of Lake Titicaca — Image by kenne
The Return
I’m coming back
for my wings.
O let me come back!
I want to die where
it’s dawn!
I want to die where
it’s yesterday!
I’m coming back
for my wings.
O let me get back!
I want to die where
it’s origin.
I want to die
out of sight
of the sea.
— Federico Garcia Lorca
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Water Over The Dam 2 comments
Water Over The Dam — Image by kenne
I walked by the creek
where the water flows
over the edge of the dam
dancing amidst the flow of light
into an endless movement
riding waves of time.
— kenne
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Yes, The Sun Leave a comment
Sedona Sunrise — Image by kenne
Words at Daybreak
Before beginning in earnest,
without meanings to identify them,
they emerge like figures behind a gray curtain.
The dark flock on the foggy horizon
defers arrival. Engaged in some play
of its own making, it circles and drifts.
Still, fricative, almost particulate songs
filter down, silting along the gray shore.
They summon the ear to something, to something.
— Tess Taylor
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Pena Mountain Leave a comment
Pena Mountain (Vermillion Cliffs National Monument) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The land is like poetry:
it is inexplicably coherent,
it is transcendent in its meaning,
and it has the power to elevate
a consideration of human life.”
— Barry Lopez
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A Christmas Bouquet 1 comment
A Christmas Bouquet — Photo-Artistry by kenne
There’s nothing lovelier, than having
fresh cut flowers, on a table, it dresses
up any room! I love the aroma that fills
the air, with it’s faint and dainty perfume!
Flowers, bring sunshine into your life,
no matter how bad you may feel, just
being surrounded with beautiful flowers,
can chase away any ordeal. They can
make a room come alive, with it’s
colorful flow, it fills a room with so much
warmth, you can actually see the glow!
Whenever there’s flowers adorning a
room, take the time, to admire their
beauty and grace. There’s nothing
lovelier than fresh cut flowers, on a
table, it’s guaranteed, to put that
smile, back on your face!
— Audrey Heller
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Flashback — Double Bayou Dance Hall Leave a comment
Double Bayou Dance Hall (May 25, 2005) — Image by kenne
Opened in 1941
a blues dance hall
in a black community
in bayou country
not far from Houston.
Music lovers from
all over southeast Texas
came to dance
drink beer, eat smoked brisket
and sweet potato pie.
Born in Double Bayou
Texas bluesman Pete Mayes
provided the house band
at the “the place” before time
and hurricanes condemned it.
Still standing
surrounded by overgrown
weeds and Spanish moss-draped
trees fronted by a historical marker
by Eagle Ferry Road.
A Christmas Day matinee
became an annual event
where the House Rockers
rocked out the blues
for holiday merrymakers.
— kenne
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No Christmas Road Trip This Year Leave a comment
On The Road, Christmas Past (December 24, 2012) — Image by kenne
Last Christmas was only the second
time we celebrated the Holidays
in Tucson after ten years here.
We usually spend the Holidays
with family and friends in Houston.
For the second year in a row, there
will be no Christmas road trip,
marking the third time in eleven years.
The decision not to go ti Houston
was made harder with Kate and family
having made the big move to Houston
after four years in New Hampshure.
. . . maybe next Christmas.
— kenne
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Wild Sunflower Leave a comment
Wild Sunflower — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The Soul of the Sunflower
The warm sun kissed the earth
To consecrate thy birth,
And from his close embrace
Thy radiant face
Sprang into sight,
A blossoming delight.
Through the long summer days
Thy lover’s burning rays
Shone hot upon thy heart.
Thy life was part
Of his desire,
Thou passion-flower of fire!
And, turning toward his love,
Lifting thy head above
The earth that nurtured thee,
Thy majesty
And stately mien
Proclaims thee sun-crowned queen.
On earth, thy gorgeous bloom
Bears record of thy tomb,
And to transcendent light
Thy soul takes flight
Till thou art one,
O sunflower, with the sun!
— Sara Jewett
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Kate’s Wall Art 2 comments
Kate’s Wall Art In Our Arizona Room — Image by kenne
Shadows on the wall
began as a photo
of two nuns
from her mom’s
nun collection
printed on a cloth
of ragged edges
pressed between
two glass sheets
twenty-two years ago.
— kenne
Becoming is Superior to Being 