Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Tag
Curve-billed Thrasher at Patio Bird Feeder — Image by kenne
As I sit on our patio
watching birds land
in near-by mesquites
before flying to the
olive tree on the patio,
then gathering the nerve
to bolt to the bird feeders.
They are not pleased
that I sit on the patio
with a camera in hand.
Soon, the desire to eat
takes priority over fear.
— kenne
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Curve-billed Thrasher On The Patio Wall — Image by kenne
A curve-billed Thrasher
Looks at the camera’s eye
Bringing eye to eye.
— kenne
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Tucson Basin, August 31, 2022 — Panorama Image by kenne
Blue sky above
a winding highway
on a sunkissed morning.
Tourists in rental cars
stop at Windy Point vista
climbing boulders
for a better view —
children too close
to the edge.
— kenne
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Desert Golf Course — Image by kenne
Lizard don’t golf
Does anyone here remember
heat dancing off the sand
living land
the shifting dunes of september
now entombed in golf course green
so obscene
travelers came to see desert sights
searching for exotic places
empty spaces
stayed for warm days, star filled nights
building homes in paradise
closed eyes
banished the desert from its place
visitors need a permit to pass
keep off grass
Made a playground from the empty space
golfs a game anyone may play
they say
claiming a course is better than the desert waste
but the lizards who paid
never played
— Luann Pfost
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Western Giant Swallowtail — Images by kenne
Swallowtail
a floating lightness
effortless Waving..
a particle transforming
black to yellow
then to thin air..
lighting on shrub
but not really..
energetic reminder
empty space
is not empty…
— CharlesC
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Sycamore Canyon Painting — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I think back
Hiking the canyon
Up and down.
— kenne
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Internalizing Existence — Abstract by kenne
I seek to satisfy the Will
Through art and philosophy
To better cope with
The problems of Being
While seeking direction
For Becoming in the will to live.
This is a driving force to
Consume moments, things
Ideas, goals, and facts only to
Possess a state of being,
Where nothing remains but
Abandonment and boredom.
This is more apparent in the
The constant appearance of death
Taking place in the reality of
The world around us that is crazy,
sad, violent reality of existing
in a state where the mind and body
Are often in a conspiracy against.
We see the world around us
Through each experience
Creating personal filters
Used to interpret what is reality
Therefore, what is real is not real
Resulting in becoming a prisoner
Of our own making.
— kenne
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Morning Walk In The Catalina Foothills — Image by kenne
Let me tell you a story of Nature
and my early morning walks in the
desert. The fragrance of cactus blossoms
and the starkness of its beauty beckon.
Or, is it the silence, like no other, interrupted
only by the hum of bees and tiny species
who materialize when you draw a handful
of sand to your eyes, viewing them as equals.
— from A Desert Walk by Constance La France
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Camphorweed Blossoms On Mt. Lemmon (August 31, 2022) — Image by kenne
Photographer
He focuses,
greens and yellows
blooming has started
surrounded by buds
museling their way
to the next stage
unraveling on
writhing stems.
— kenne
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Mighty Saguaro — Image by kenne
The Mighty Saguaro
The mighty saguaro,
so majestic and tall,
holds its lifelong secrets
surprising one and all.
The seedling saguaro
begins small and afraid,
hoping it will survive
beneath the nurse plant’s shade.
The tiny saguaro
grows a little each year,
searching for the water
which is precious and dear.
The struggling saguaro
pushes upward for days,
glad it keeps avoiding
a new herbivore’s gaze.
The lucky saguaro
survives the desert heat,
outliving the nurse plant
not knowing of its feat.
The patient saguaro
looks skyward at all hours,
until at age fifty
it produces first flowers.
The giving saguaro
shares its bounty with all
who wait for months on end
for tasty fruits to fall.
The youthful saguaro
knows at seventy-five
that its newly formed arms
keeps desert friends alive.
The aging saguaro
has been a willing friend
to desert’s small creatures
dependent to the end.
The mighty saguaro
grows to fifty feet high,
waiting two hundred years
to almost touch the sky.
— Debbie Emery
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Standing At Nature’s Alter — Image by kenne (Monday Morning Milers — August 29, 2011)
Standing at Nature’s Alter
When we stand at the
altar of nature,
we stand with the greats;
Ralph Waldo Emerson,
Henry David Thoreau,
and John Muir,
each having helped define
our relationship
with nature and language —
“Every natural fact is a symbol
of some spiritual fact,
. . . words are signs of natural facts.”
Nature’s beauty becomes
a source of spiritual energy
connecting all things
into a universal whole
with the power of our
thoughts and will.
We stand at nature’s altar
not separate from her,
seeing us in the flowers,
insects, animals, mountains,
creating a unified landscape
of our inward and outward senses.
Like all relationships,
the experience depends
on the degree of harmony
between us and nature,
therefore becoming a gift
granted while walking with nature
as she is embraced in our minds –
Enlighten, she shares her secrets,
making the universe more “transparent.”
Yet, the gift may only offer a glimpse,
to be shared in images and words,
charming all living things.
— kenne
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. — John Muir
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Facepainting (The Woodlands Art Festival, April 2008) — Image by kenne
All women are wounded
Who gather berries, dibble in mottled light,
Turn white roots from humus, crack nuts on stone
High upland with squinted eye
or rest in cedar shade.
— from Praise for Sick Women by Gary Snyder
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Upper Sabino Canyon In the Santa Catalina Mountains (November 18, 2011) — Panorama by kenne
A light wind
As we hike
Up through
The canyon
Late fall
Eight miles
Out and back
— kenne
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Mt. Lemmon Wildflower (Mountain Marigold) — Image by kenne
Sunlight breaks through
After a heavy downpour
Turning the trail into a stream
Breaking off above the creek
Lush green and yellow colors
Coming into being on the slopes
Of my favorite mountain trail
A shadow network of sunshine
Through the trees as juncos
Twittering calls echoes in the woods.
— kenne
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Carpenter Bee In A Sacred Datura Blossom — Image by kenne
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot
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Becoming is Superior to Being 