Archive for the ‘T. S. Eliot’ Tag

Sullivan Island Beach Scene   1 comment

Sullivan’s Island Beach — Photo-Artistry by kenne

"Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age
   To set a crown upon your lifetime's effort. 
   First, the cold friction of expiring sense
Without enchantment, offering no promise 
   But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit 
   As body and soul begin to fall asunder.
Second, the conscious impotence of rage 
   At human folly, and the laceration 
   Of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment 
   Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
   Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others' harm
   Which once you took for exercise of virtue."

-- T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets


Marina On The Bay   Leave a comment

Marina On the Bay — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Are become unsubstantial, reduced by a wind,
A breath of pine, and the woodsong fog
By this grace dissolved in place

What is this face, less clear and clearer
The pulse in the arm, less strong and stronger —
Given or lent? more distant than stars and nearer than the eye
Whispers and small laughter between leaves and hurrying feet
Under sleep, where all the waters meet.

— from Marina by T. S. Eliot

Here We Go Round The Prickly Pear   1 comment

Prickly Pear — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Here we go round the prickly pear
    Prickly pear prickly pear
    Here we go round the prickly pear
    At five o’clock in the morning.

   
    Between the idea
    And the reality
    Between the motion
    And the act
    Falls the Shadow

— from The Hollow Men by T. S. Eliot

Coyote Fence Corral   Leave a comment

Coyote Fence Corral In Doubtful Canyon — Images by kenne

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
                                           If there were water
   And no rock
   If there were rock
   And also water
   And water
   A spring
   A pool among the rock
   If there were the sound of water only
   Not the cicada
   And dry grass singing
   But sound of water over a rock
   Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
   Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
   But there is no water

— from The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot 

Shore Life   1 comment

Shore Life — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.

If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.

— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

January Sunrise, Tanuri Ridge   2 comments

January Sunrise, Tanuri Ridge — Image by kenne

What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

Fallen Leaves   Leave a comment

Fallen Leaves On Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne

In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls
Across the open field, leaving the deep lane
Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
And the deep lane insists on the direction
Into the village, in the electric heat
Hypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry light
Is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.
The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.
Wait for the early owl.

— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

A Tucson Sunset   2 comments

A Tucson Sunset — Image by kenne

In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls 
Across the open field, leaving the deep lane
Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,
Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,
And the deep lane insists on the direction
Into the village, in the electric heat
Hypnotised.

— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

Tom’s Signature

Eliot’s Four Quartets rests on my desk not only because I love his poetic masterpiece
but because my first copy was given to me by my brother, Tom, who wrote
“. . . I’ve become obsessed with it . . . with time . . . with memory . . . with language,
all of which are concentrated in this work. It has become such a part of me.”

Tom went on to write — “To use a few of Eliot’s words; ‘As we grow older the world
becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated . . . ‘ Complications, ambiguities, non sequitur
I keep searching for clarity . . . lucidity, and I know each time I seek that, I’ll
become more entangled. No. I’m not bored—just Scarred. I’m moving toward a sort-of silence . . .
I know what you’re thinking: ‘Bull-shit!’ Since the significant things, I want to say
have the wrong inflections, intonations for most arenas of conversation;
I ramble on into oblivion. A series of non sequitur.” (7/27/84)

I miss Tom.

— kenne

Old Western Morning   1 comment

Giffords OfficeOld Western Morning (Sonoran Desert) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

We have taken from the defeated

What they had to leave us — a symbol:

A symbol perfected in death.

And all shall be well and

All manner of thing shall be well

By the purification of the motive

I the ground of our beseeching.

from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

Two-Windows   1 comment

Tucson Folk Festival 2013Two-Windows (Tucson Arizona) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Go, go, go, said the bird: humankind

Cannot bear very much reality.

Time past and time future

What might have been and what has been

Point to one end, which is always present.

— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

Love Is Itself Unmoving   5 comments

Chase w Cap I-art-3-72-2Chase Morris — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement,
Timeless, and undesiring
Except in the aspect of time
Caught in the form of limitation
Between un-being and being.

— Four Quarters by T.S. Eliot

Mourning Doves In The Morning Sunlight   1 comment

Mourning Doves-72Mourning Doves In The Morning Sunlight (Sabino Canyon Recreational Area) — Image by kenne

“For most of us, there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts.”

— from Four Quartets, by T. S. Eliot

Esperero Trail In Sabino Canyon   1 comment

Esperero Trail in Sabino Canyon-72Esperero Trail In Sabino Canyon — Panorama by kenne

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

— T. S. Eliot

Hiking with Old Buddies   1 comment

The SCVN Friday Nature Hike was Aspen Trail, Marshall Gulch Trail loop,
which would provide an opportunity to see the beautiful fall colors on Mt. Lemmon.
The Aspen Trail has a grove of aspens, which I blogged in a previous posting

Aspen Trail-8-72After hiking through the aspen grove, I began to get out in front of the nature hikers.
With less fall color on the remaining part of the Aspen Trail I decided to pick-up my pace.
I knew from past experience there would be plenty of fall color on the Marshall Gulch Trail.

Aspen Trail-21-72I was aware that my buddies, Jim Thompson and Tom Markey, were hiking the trail;
hence, I might be able to catch up with them. 

Aspen Trail-23-72I first began hiking with Jim and Tom nine years ago. They were part of the Monday Morning Milers (MMM),
the first hiking group with which I started hiking.

Aspen Trail-24-72Most of the MMM were lifetime hikers in southeast Arizona, many of whom were in their 80’s.

Aspen Trail-25-72Jim recently celebrated his 90th birthday.

Aspen Trail-26-72While Tom is a youngster like me, he’s 79.

Aspen Trail-27-72Images by kenne

It seems, as one becomes older,
That the past has another pattern,
And ceases to be a mere sequence —
Or even development: the latter a partial fallacy
Encouraged by superficial notions of evolution,
Which becomes, in the popular mind,
A means of disowning the past.
The moments of happiness — not the sense of well-being,
Fruition, fulfillment, security or affection,
Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination —
We had the experience but missed the meaning,
And approach to the meaning restores the experience
In a different form, beyond any meaning
We can assign to happiness.

— from “Four Quartets” by T. S. Eliot

Common Mullein Blossoms   Leave a comment

SCVN Nature Walk July 18 2012Common Mullein Blossoms On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne

    It seems, as one becomes older,
That the past has another pattern,
and ceases to be a mere sequence—
Or even development: the latter a partial fallacy
Encouraged by superficial notions of evolution,
Which becomes, in the popular mind,
a means of disowning the past.

— T. S. Eliot 

%d bloggers like this: