Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Tag

Bougainvillea Blossom Art   3 comments

Bougainvillea Blossom — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Not by love, not by song

are we reborn as one,

but by the art of caring.

Caring is the revealer, 

seeing things more clearly

in the mirror of gratitude.

— kenne

Sculpture Building In Progress   Leave a comment

Sculpture Building in Progress Near the Tanque Verde Wash — Image by kenne

I have time to photograph

they have time to create art

for trail walkers near the wash.

— kenne

Abstract Art — What Do You See?   Leave a comment

Abstract Art — Photo-Artistry by kenne

What do you see there?

A bird’s nest?

A hand holding

A women’s breast?

Naked bodies dancing?

An old man sitting 

Drunkenly on a barstool?

But, does it really matter

For time will remove the filters.

— kenne

Cactus Blossom Art   Leave a comment

Cactus Blossom — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The blossom opens and opens,

till it is no bigger than nature allows.

At darkness, the blossom embraces

its parts as in bed,

two sleeping lovers.

— kenne

Shades Of Gray   Leave a comment

Shades Of Gray — Photo-Artistry by kenne

In the youth of spring

the river runs freely

between a cleavage —

two breasts flowering.

 

In the age of winter

the river runs dry

light between shadows

fainter, fainter, fainter —

as the fire burns out.

 
— kenne
 

Queen Butterfly — Honoring Mothers   3 comments

Queen Butterfly — Image by kenne

Some such Butterfly be seen 
 

Some such Butterfly be seen
On Brazilian Pampas —
Just at noon — no later — Sweet —
Then — the License closes —

Some such Spice — express and pass —
Subject to Your Plucking —
As the Stars — You knew last Night —
Foreigners — This Morning —

 
— Emily Dickinson
 
 

Riding The Arizona Trail On Horseback   Leave a comment

Riding The Arizona Trail On Horseback in Sycamore Canyon — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The Canyon from Horseback

The young don’t know enough
About being young
They squander youth
And never know ’til later.

Any lad of twelve will testify
An eight-year-old can’t even qualify
To be a child
At eighteen our own ignorance
At fifteen is finally written
In language we comprehend:
We know the score
Reality’s the icing on the cake
Of youthful fantasies;
When the young grow old
They know a lot
About being young
But almost nothing
About being old.

— Jack Purcell from Poems of the New Old West

 

Wooden Wheel Cart   4 comments

Wooden Wheel Cart — Pencil Art by kenne

“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere – on water and land.”

 
― from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
 
 

Life Springs Eternal   Leave a comment

Life Springs Eternal – New Life in the Presence of Death — Image by kenne

There are signs of life and death all around

that have evolved throughout all existence

towards a collective mitigation of existential

and catastrophic risks yet only in the present does

the proliferation of life affirms and consciously evolves.

— kenne

 

Greater Roadrunner Art   1 comment

Greater Roadrunner — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Roadrunner

A cuckoo bird that lives for speed,
With your shaggy crest, what a site indeed.
Streaked feathers break up your silhouette.
And your unusual track, not your typical set.

A blue and orange patch behind your eyes,
You prefer to chase prey, instead of fly.
Your expressive long tail flips here and there…
Quail chicks and k-rats best beware.

It’s true, I often see you running about,
With a limp lizard’s tail hanging from your mouth,
Some have witnessed your familiar antics,
taunting rattlesnakes, eagles, and hairy arachnids.

But my favorite three things have to be,
Your curiosity each time you encounter me,
And how you turn your back to the sun for its heat
(like a tiny matador, feathers erect and sleek).

Finally, I think I must surely admit
That trickster track—your zygodactyl footprint!
How do I know which way you are going?
With two toes facing forward and the back two, back-going.

It doesn’t matter much to me you will see
I just look for the “X” in the sand to guide me.
On the trail of a friend, a cuckoo I know
the Greater Roadrunner, always running, on the go.

— Michelle Hedgecock

Abstract Morning   Leave a comment

Abstract Morning — Art by kenne

You should always know when

you’re shifting gears in life.

You should leave your era,

it should never leave you.

— Leontyne Price

 

Spring   Leave a comment

New Mexico Groundsel — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Spring

Spring is proof

that we were right to hope

even in the darkness.

— Samantha Reynolds

(NY Times readers were invited to share an original poem
of about 15 words on the theme of renewal. This was on of them.)

 

Lake Robbins Bridge   Leave a comment

Lake Robbins Bridge, The Woodlands, Texas (2003) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

We should be blessed if we lived in the present always,

and took advantage of every accident that befell us,

like the grass which confesses the influence of the

slightest dew that falls on it; and did not spend our

time in atoning for the neglect of past opportunities . . .

We loiter in winter while it is already spring.

— Henry David Thoreau

Sedona Area Panorama   2 comments

Sedona Area Panorama (Red Rock Country) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Our continual mistake is that we do not

concentrate upon the present day, the

actual hour, of our life: we live in the past

or in the future; we are continually expecting

the coming of some special moment when

our life will unfold itself in its full significance.

And we do not notice that life is flowing life

water through our fingers.

— Father Alexander Elchaninov 

Fencepost   1 comment

Fencepost — Image by kenne

Fencepost

I’ve been told
that I’m built like a fencepost
Kind of wiry
A few knobs here and there
A knot or two for character
I make a pretty good fence
Good at keeping things inside
Not letting things out
But now my shadow seems leaner
Not quite as tall in the morning sun
The soil around my feet eroding
Drying out isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
Staying straight ain’t easy
The herd is getting restless
And the barbed wire on my back
is tearing me up inside.

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