Sunday, August 31, 2014

behind these windows and towers made by man

so many lives and stories
behind these windows.
hopes and dreams.
woes and joys.
view from the BQE

the birdie rock

we gather here
as a flock.
we have claimed
this birdie
rock.
off staten island

the storm approaches

the storm approaches,
away i fly.
above the earth,
i master the sky.
above staten island

Friday, August 29, 2014

when a heart breaks

when your heart is broken
it feels like all the pages were
torn from
planting fields
the book you need
to live by and
learn from.
you watch as
they fall,
like leaves crumpled
on a grassless
groundspace.


bees and flowers

bees and flowers
represent,
all the gifts from
heaven,
sent.
the partnerships
of living things.
the sweet musical
pattern that
makes the earthmother
sing.







sunlight dances

sunlight dances
we drink it in.
each moment
a world of
joys.
planting fields cell phone photo

Thursday, August 28, 2014

the poet tree

the poet tree
foundation strong.
built on a world
of sorrows and
joys.
soft colors
and brights.
too short days
and some
sleepless
nights.
planting fields

star bursts

star bursts with
glee as the
sun caresses
her late summer
moments.
planting fields

my heart beats like a flower

my heart beats like a flower,
petals open and close
tears rush out.
and nobody
knows.
planting fields 

could you would you

could you pour
your own kindness
and drink of its
nectar.
planting fields
would you look
past what you
see and
see what
really is....
could you,
would you.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

she sang

she sang out loud
with joy of voice.
nobody listened.
so she asked herself
why sing at all
if ears are closed.
but
she sang another
note,
then waited,
hoping....
jones beach birdie

man builds bridges

man builds bridges
big and tall
but be cannot cross
the divide between
love and hate
at all.

(he barely makes
it to the border
of the toleration
nation.)

on the way to NJ


Tuesday, August 26, 2014

picture postcard houses

picture postcard houses.
other people's lives.
parents, children,
husbands, wives.
behind these
walls of luxury.
human beings...
just like we!
a view from norman j

he called out

he called out in a voice,
loud and clear.
did anyone listen
or take
the time
to
hear.
at norman j

she was trapped in her thoughts

she was trapped in her thoughts
but wriggled free long enough
to notice the beauty outside
her miseries.

sitting outside the yoga studio.

Monday, August 25, 2014

we miss you little parrot girl

she knew she was pretty.
she knew she was sweet.
she knew she had us wrapped
around her cute birdie
feets

we miss you funny birdie girl
pteri tea rose max...our little pteribird
♥pteribird cuteness forever♥

how strange to some

how strange to some
the concept of difference.
aforementioned some
even resent the
inference.
but to what standard
then,
should we conform.
what is sick and
twisted to one,
to another is
the norm.
at norman j

if a feather of kindness

at norman j
if a feather of kindness
from the loving
tree.
gently touched
humanity.
what a world
this would
be♥

i see my shadow

i see my shadow
wherever i fly.
and
i take it with me.
at norman j

my birdie tree

you can find me
in my birdie
tree.
this is my world
but it is not
all i see.

at norman j

Saturday, August 23, 2014

little beauties and a bee

little beauties and
a bee.

ny botanical gardens

love like waters

love like waters,
rushing.
cleansing.
embracing.

http://youtu.be/fTiACynIPUs

rock and grasses

rocks and grasses.
trees and sky.
how the world
was built...
for all to enjoy
and respect.
ny botanical gardens

Friday, August 22, 2014

peace is a word

peace is a word
we have often
heard.
it is tossed
around like
sports
equipment
peace is a state
of mind,
to which we 
all aspire...
in word is
easier to
attain.
in action...
inaction
peace is a state
of non aggression
an absence of hate.
a state barely populated
yet admired.
peace exists as
the unattainable
star.
shining high above
the bloodbaths
below.
its lights
dimming.
are we so hardwired to
pull, push and twist.
is the peace chip
something
we have
somehow
missed.

localflowers

forgot my camera.
only had my cell.
had to take a
pic of these flowers.
(too bad it did not
capture their
lovely smell)
around the corner

the spirit of the bear

spirit of the bear
i am the spirit of the bear
and i am in such prolonged, 
deep pain
some humans out there
think we bears are here
for hunting or
to entertain
to dance in the circus
to be baited and tormented
or our parts used for medicine
by those humans, demented
we belong to the forests,
to the mountains and streams
this is supposed to be our reality
not just in our dreams.

how do you read the signs

how do you read the signs.
from your heartseyes,
your mindseyes
or that
ny botanical gardens
dark space
in between.

we live and love

we live and love.
together and apart.
two bodies and
two minds,
joined at
the heart.
ny botanical gardens

the days they pass

the days they pass.
as pass they will.
the lessons not
learned.
more innocents
killed
no answers given.
questions left
and right.
meanwhile,
back at the
ranch...
major squabbles
and/or fights.
and when the day
is over.
a peaceful night???
ny botanical gardnens

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

read between

do you
read between
what you
have seen.
ny botanical gardens

a flower floats

a flower floats
in outer space.
the beauty
of so many
a face.

ny botanical garden joys





for james foley and all victims of the unspeakable

we cry for you and those
in your life.
we cry for those who die
for no reason...
WHY.
we cry for our species
who never learns.
we cry for our world,
that barely turns.
we cry for peace
we cry for sanity.
we cry out...
is there any hope
for humanity...
ny botanical gardens

Monday, August 18, 2014

to love

to love unbridled
reins not held.
to let the heart run
to another,
there to melt.
to find joy in the
laughter,
each moment
a lifetime
in itself.
the richness
of such love...
the greatest
source
of
wealth.

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About Me

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i am older than dirt and proud of it!!!! i have managed to incorporate my eternal 60's nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga, the beach, waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. i have added sketching, watercolor painting, and photography to my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance. P.S. all painting, poems and photographs are my originals karen Lyons kalmenson