Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Tag

Evening Solitude   Leave a comment

Patio August 2010Evening Solitude — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Only that which does not teach,
Which does not cry out,
Which does not persuade,
Which does not condescend,
Which does not explain,
Is irresistible.

— W. B. Yeats

The Path To His Mountain Place   Leave a comment

Green Mountain Trail 9-art-72-II.jpgThe Path to His Mountain Place — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The path to Han-shan’s place is laughable,
A path, but no sign of cart or horse.
Converging gorges — hard to trace the twists
Jumbled cliffs — unbelievably rugged.
A thousand grasses bend with dew,
A hill of pines hums in the wind.
And now I’ve lost the shortcut home,
Body asking shadow, how do you keep up?

— Gary Snyder

Mission San José de Tumacácori Mission   Leave a comment

Tumacacori National Historical Park-art-72.jpgMission San José de Tumacácori — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“People constantly change their story…
we are writing fictitious versions of our lives all the time,
contradictory but mutually entangling stories that,
however subtly or grossly falsified, constitute our hold on reality
and are the closest thing we have to truth.”

— from Counterlife by Philip Roth

The Freedom Train   Leave a comment

american-freedom-train-m-bob-lorenz-art-611-002-1200xfreedomtrain.org

This song is a train song
It’s a song about a train
Not the Atchison and Topeka
Not the Chattanooga Choo-Choo
Nor the one that leaves at midnight
For the state of Alabam’
This song is a train song
Where the engineer is Uncle Sam

Here comes the Freedom Train!
You better hurry down
Just like a Paul Revere
It’s comin’ into your hometown

Inside the Freedom Train
You will find a precious freight
Those words of liberty
The documents that made us great

You can shout your anger from a steeple
You can shoot the system full of holes
You can always question “We the People”
You can get your answer at the polls

That’s how it’s always been
And how it will remain
As long as all of us
Keep riding on the Freedom Train

Riding’ all across this country
Playing music for the people
With the fellows in the band
We’re singin’ of the liberty
And freedom through the land

You can write the President a letter
You can even tell him to his face
If you think that you can do it better
Get the votes and you can take his place

If you hate the laws that you’re obeying
You can shout your anger to the crowd
We may disagree with what you’re saying
But we’ll fight to let you say it loud

That’s how it’s always been
And how it must remain
As long as all of us
Keep riding on the Freedom Train

Keep ridin’ that Freedom Train!

— Maria Muldaur

The Freedom Song — Maria Muldaur

Posted October 17, 2019 by kenneturner in Information, Lyrics, Painting, Poetry

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She Knows   Leave a comment

kennejoy2001-8-art-Edit-1-72Joy and Kenne — Photo-Artistry by kenne

get up
cover it
no prescription
will change
with time
think not
ask her
she knows

— kenne

Posted October 17, 2019 by kenneturner in Information, Joy, Life, Love, Photo-Artistry, Poetry

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Mt. Lemmon Autumn   5 comments

Fall Colors 2016 (1 of 1)-6 art-Edit-1-72Mt. Lemmon Autumn — Photo-Artistry by kenne

NATURE, POEM 28: AUTUMN

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.

— Emily Dickenson 

Cadillac Desert   Leave a comment

“If surface water can be compared with interest income,
and non-renewable groundwater with capital,
then much of the West was living mainly on interest income.”

Marc Reisner

Peloncillo Mountains“Fenceline” — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Fenceline

lost in its
harsh beauty
we walk the fence line
drawn to the
once riparian land
on the other side

fences cannot hide
the splendor
nor the disgrace
now tattooed
across a fragile land
abused and neglected
by cultures past
and present

a place where
water once stood
now disappearing
to caverns below
playing hide ‘n seek
from pipes sucking
their very subsistence
on to nearby pecan groves

not learning to share
we fight for water
destroying the source
leaving behind death
only to cycle back
after all is gone

a lone jackrabbit
runs ahead of us
darting from
bush to bush
seeking to outlast
the hand of death
pulling at us
urging us to follow

— kenne 

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