Archive for the ‘W. B. Yeats’ Tag

Running From Daimons   Leave a comment

Running From Daimons — Grunge Art by kenne

What marks upon the yielding clay? Two marks
Made by my feet, two by my daimon’s feet
But all confused because my marks and his
Are on the selfsame spot, his toes
Where my heels fell, for he and I
Pausing a moment in our headlong flight
Face opposite ways, my future being his past.

— from Images by W. B Yates

Dramatic Storm Clouds In The Desert at Sunset   Leave a comment

Dramatic Storm Clouds In the Desert at Sunset (Tanuri Ridge) — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

— W. B. Yeats 

What’s the connection between the photo and the Yeats poem? None, other than they are both dramatic. — kenne



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

One Man’s Old Is Another Man’s Young — Richie Havens, R.I.P.   9 comments


Classic Photo of Richie Havens at Woodstock

The 1960’s were turbulent wonderful years. Near the end of that decade (August, 1969), three days of peace and music took place on a farm in Woodstock, NY. Many regarded it as a pivotal movement in popular music. The first musician on stage was Richie Havens singing “Here Comes The Sun.”

Richie Havens passed away yesterday (April 22, 2013) at age 72. His music of a generation meant a lot to me. My being six days older than him means even more. He died young — “Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young.” — Ben Franklin

“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping
than you can understand.”
— W.B. Yates


“Call Down The Hawk From The Air”   1 comment

SCVN Nature Walk -- 12-14-11

Cooper’s Hawk Atop The Sabino Canyon Visitors Flag Pole, December 14, 2011 — Image by kenne

The Hawk

William Butler Yeats

Call down the hawk from the air;
Let him be hooded or caged
Till the yellow eye has grown mild,
For larder and spit are bare,
The old cook enraged,
The scullion gone wild.

I will not be clapped in a hood,
Nor a cage, nor alight upon wrist,
Now I have learnt to be proud
Hovering over the wood
In the broken mist Or tumbling cloud.

What tumbling cloud did you cleave,
Yellow-eyed hawk of the mind,
Last evening? that I, who had sat
Dumbfounded before a knave,
Should give to my friend
A pretence of wit.

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