Checker White Butterfly — Image by kenne
One Day Butterfly
Aren’t we all one-day butterflies,
not aware of time.
Searching for partners or honey
until Death kisses us.
Then in his arms, tenderly rocked,
waiting for a new chance
to fly away again
and join the dance
of the one-day butterfly
— Mary Emily Bradley
American Robin — Image by kenne
Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
with my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.
Who saw him die?
I, said the Magpie,
with my little teeny eye,
I saw him die.
Who caught his blood?
I, said the Duck,
it was just my luck,
I caught his blood.
Who’ll make the shroud?
I, said the Beetle,
with my thread and needle,
I’ll make the shroud.
Who’ll dig his grave?
I, said the pheasant,
it wasn’t very pleasant,
I’ll dig his grave.
Who’ll be the parson?
I, said the Rook,
with my little book,
I’ll be the parson.
Who’ll be the clerk?
I, said the Lark,
if it’s not in the dark,
I’ll be the clerk.
Who’ll carry the link?
I, said the Linnet,
I’ll fetch it in a minute,
I’ll carry the link.
Who’ll be chief mourner?
I, said the Dove,
I mourn for my love,
I’ll be chief mourner.
Who’ll carry the coffin?
I, said the Kite,
if it’s not through the night,
I’ll carry the coffin.
Who’ll bear the pall?
I, said the Crow,
with the cock and the bow,
I’ll bear the pall.
Who’ll sing a psalm?
I, said the Thrush,
as she sat on a bush,
I’ll sing a psalm.
Who’ll toll the bell?
I, said the Bull,
because I can pull,
I’ll toll the bell.
All the birds of the air
fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
when they heard the bell toll
for poor Cock Robin.
— English Nursery Rhyme
Pistol Hill Panorama — Photo-Artistry by kenne
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
Outside Gabby Giffords’ Office after the January 8, 2011 Shooting in Tucson — Images by kenne
The January 8, 2011 shooting in Tucson left six people dead and 13 severely wounded, including former U.S. Rep. Gabby Giffords.
Giffords was the lone gunman’s target at the meet-and-greet event outside a supermarket and was left partially paralyzed.
In commemoration of the tragedy, a ‘bell-ringing’ will be held at the Historic County Courthouse.
A memorial, called “Embrace,” located west of the courthouse in El Presidio Park, tells the lives lost and people wounded. Tucson.com
Yesterday, Gabby’s husband (Mark Kelly) was in the US Senate Chamber when the Capitol was invaded two days before
the anniversary of her being shoot. One has to wonder what was going through her head.
— kenne
A Winter Day In Tanuri Ridge — Black and White Image by kenne
“I prefer someone who burns the flag and then wraps themselves up in the Constitution
over someone who burns the Constitution and then wraps themselves up in the flag.”
―
“Empty Pot, Empty Bottle” — Dos XX Amber Still Life by kenne
A Word About Transitions
Moreover is not a good way to start a poem
though many begin somewhere in the middle.
Secondly does not belong
at the opening of your second stanza.
Furthermore is to be avoided
no matter how long the poem.
Aforementioned is rarely found
in poems at all, and for good reason.
Most steer clear of notwithstanding,
and the same goes for
nevertheless, however,
as a consequence, in any event,
subsequently,
and as we have seen in the previous chapters.
The appearance of finally
in your final stanza will be of no help.
All of which suggests (another no-no)
that poems don’t need to tell us where we are
or what is soon to come.
For example, the white bowl of lemons
on a table by a window
can go anywhere all by itself
and, in conclusion, so can
seven elephants standing in the rain.
— Billy Collins
Cedar Waxwing Silhouette — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Spiritualists believe waxwings to be a symbol of selfless generosity.
The symbolism of the waxwing totem is believed to teach selflessness
and the practice of giving to others for their benefit, and not your own.
Waxwings are traditionally associated with the politeness you should have
when you give away to others the thing you have craved for or cherished for so long.
— James Common
Study — Image by kenne
A Female Phainopepla On a Chilly, Windy Morning In Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
Fiddleneck Wildflowers — Photo-Artistry by kenne
―
Climate Change — Abstract Art by kenne
black and gray
drowns
out the blue
oceans
full of plastic
poison
in our water
virus
in the air
deserts
are dryer
water
in the streets
glasers
are melting
forests
are burning
times
are changing
— kenne
Stones — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Stones
I bring them from the mountains,
from the sea, from the edge
of streams and look at them,
heft them, hold them hard
while they keep holding themselves
harder. Is it because
they haven’t had to change
their surfaces in our time
though, in theirs, they’ve suffered
the blunt demands of ice
and water and wind and god
knows fire, been cracked and frozen,
thawed, made molten again
and again have started over
grinding and being ground
from monument to boulder,
to rock, to river stone,
to gravel, to pebbles, to sand,
to slurries of grit, to dust?
— David Wagoner
(Source: Terrain.org)
Phainopepla In Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
— kenne
Desert Foggy Morning (January 14, 2015) Image by kenne
— From ‘Morning’ by Federico Garcia Lorca
