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"Short Poems"

I began "Fragments" in the spirited fun I enjoyed when I would take photos and make up captions for them. I produced over 250 Fragmnents pieces over 6 months…

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3y

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Kenneth Brauchler

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Simone-Bramante Photography Series, Amazing Photography, Landscape Photography, Modern Art Prints, Wall Art Prints, Best Instagram Photos, Travel Music, Modern Metropolis, Shutter Speed

Photography Series

Amazing Photography

Landscape Photography

Modern Art Prints

Wall Art Prints

Best Instagram Photos

Modern Metropolis

Simone-Bramante

Sea of Noodles by Mister T’ on Flickr. Bw Photography, Street Photography, Photo B, Color Stories, Shades Of Black, Light And Shadow, Traditional Art, Black And White Photography, Black And White

Street Photography

Shades Of Black

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Traditional Art

Black And White Photography

Black And White

Sea of Noodles by Mister T’ on Flickr.

I come here when there is no place left. When rooms become filled with the letters of conversants; when buildings are filled with walls seeing everything that passes as mere functionaries to an insistence on being sturdy but blank. I come here when the streets are filled with airs of the mounting disasters that are funneled down each one and every sidewalk has become a construction zone of improbabilities, all possibilities thrown onto the piles of diggings. I come here most of all, to be alone. Dark Photography, Strange Photos, Dark Places, Monochrom, Story Inspiration, Macabre, Surrealism, The Darkest

Dark Photography

Story Inspiration

I come here when there is no place left. When rooms become filled with the letters of conversants; when buildings are filled with walls seeing everything that passes as mere functionaries to an insistence on being sturdy but blank. I come here when the streets are filled with airs of the mounting disasters that are funneled down each one and every sidewalk has become a construction zone of improbabilities, all possibilities thrown onto the piles of diggings. I come here most of all, to be alone.

I see the possibilities for myths waiting in places we never think about: an alley's end, beneath stairs, in the tracks of birds in snow, balanced in dew on a blade of grass. When stories ceased being told, legends' heros became aged. The words grew dry, blown away on winds no longer the breath of gods they served. To find them means new words for new stories. To be found for them would be to become, the soft light of resonance that marks a shafdow's cadence. Proof to us the earth still spins. Altered Books Pages, Altered Book Art, Old Book Pages, Mixed Media Collage, Collage Art, Scrapbooks, Book Page Art, Art Journal Pages, Art Journals

Altered Books Pages

Altered Book Art

Mixed Media Collage

Art Journal Pages

I see the possibilities for myths waiting in places we never think about: an alley's end, beneath stairs, in the tracks of birds in snow, balanced in dew on a blade of grass. When stories ceased being told, legends' heros became aged. The words grew dry, blown away on winds no longer the breath of gods they served. To find them means new words for new stories. To be found for them would be to become, the soft light of resonance that marks a shafdow's cadence. Proof to us the earth still spins.

You Will Know--I will meet you again When uncertainty Has become archaic Against The solitary Plaintive call Of a morning thrush And My hands Have become Clouds, Water, Earth, Stone. Solid. Then You will know Me As real Acrylic Painting Lessons, Oil Painting Abstract, Watercolor Paintings, Watercolor Artists, Oil Paintings, Painting Art, Street Art, Collages, Portfolio Images

Acrylic Painting Lessons

Oil Painting Abstract

Watercolor Paintings

Watercolor Artists

Portfolio Images

You Will Know--I will meet you again When uncertainty Has become archaic Against The solitary Plaintive call Of a morning thrush And My hands Have become Clouds, Water, Earth, Stone. Solid. Then You will know Me As real

So few are left that remember how permanent the hours were made to be, the minutes elongated to leaden the thirst by terror aroused. So they kept the seconds to themselves, like names. The precious, dire seconds to live in, hid them behind sunken eyes that stopped seeing because there was too much to see. The cautious seconds that fed a belief that the world had not gone insane. That somewhere their names were still spoken aloud. Even as the snow of ashes, fell delicately to the ground. Paul Celan, Night By Elie Wiesel, World Youth Day, History Online, Lest We Forget, Don't Forget, Papa Francisco, Places

Night By Elie Wiesel

World Youth Day

So few are left that remember how permanent the hours were made to be, the minutes elongated to leaden the thirst by terror aroused. So they kept the seconds to themselves, like names. The precious, dire seconds to live in, hid them behind sunken eyes that stopped seeing because there was too much to see. The cautious seconds that fed a belief that the world had not gone insane. That somewhere their names were still spoken aloud. Even as the snow of ashes, fell delicately to the ground.

The rain that had been falling Was made of dark blue-gray light As if the sky was weeping A hurt it did not understand. Somewhere in the woodland Within a fold of earth Pairs of eyes kept watch As Nature was laid to rest. There were no special words No prayers were said or thought. The sun stayed away. No shadows Were ever seen again. The only sound, A Mockingbird singing in place Of everyone, a song that remained Above the canopy of trees, A memory that never leaves. Tinta China, Art Et Illustration, You Draw, Illustrations Posters, Retro, Amazing Art, Awesome, Painting & Drawing, Art Photography

Art Et Illustration

Illustrations Posters

Painting & Drawing

Art Photography

The rain that had been falling Was made of dark blue-gray light As if the sky was weeping A hurt it did not understand. Somewhere in the woodland Within a fold of earth Pairs of eyes kept watch As Nature was laid to rest. There were no special words No prayers were said or thought. The sun stayed away. No shadows Were ever seen again. The only sound, A Mockingbird singing in place Of everyone, a song that remained Above the canopy of trees, A memory that never leaves.

A Word (after Wallace Stevens--Anecdote on a Jar) | I buried a word in Tennessee, Its likeness had not been heard In a fallow field left untouched And in mute listening around it. A tree grew and wild it was. It made look the lay of land No longer simply flat with Grasses, or without sound. It became of all the air, Siren called to that place. Its flowerings bore tender flesh And tasted of all I knew From everywhere. Pastel Art, Pastel Colors, Pastel Paintings, Pastels, Purple Trees, Painting Snow, Queen Annes Lace, Color Studies, Landscape Paintings

Pastel Paintings

Queen Annes Lace

Landscape Paintings

A Word (after Wallace Stevens--Anecdote on a Jar) | I buried a word in Tennessee, Its likeness had not been heard In a fallow field left untouched And in mute listening around it. A tree grew and wild it was. It made look the lay of land No longer simply flat with Grasses, or without sound. It became of all the air, Siren called to that place. Its flowerings bore tender flesh And tasted of all I knew From everywhere.

As softly as I can I yell for you to dance the dance you once danced before I knew you. I want to watch the way your body moves like water falling from a great height. I want to listen to the sounds of your breathing as your body twists and pulls the night from the sky. I want there to be that time before I knew you so I may meet you once again and the world I knew was about to change forever. Photo New York, Video Humour, Growing Old Together, The Longest Journey, Foto Art, Street Photographers, Documentary Photographers, Belle Photo

Growing Old Together

The Longest Journey

Street Photographers

Documentary Photographers

As softly as I can I yell for you to dance the dance you once danced before I knew you. I want to watch the way your body moves like water falling from a great height. I want to listen to the sounds of your breathing as your body twists and pulls the night from the sky. I want there to be that time before I knew you so I may meet you once again and the world I knew was about to change forever.

Should I protect her shadows Or, does she need the light to hold onto That ennui only saints possess? She has her irises. Is it their beauty she desires, Or, a lust in their dying? Does she a know difference? The sin of pride About her beauty we both carry. What will she do When fear begins to mark The corners of her eyes?What will happen if she finds The world an ugly alley It so easily becomes, And Is no longer dream, But nightmare loose. By the vapidness in the ennui, Only saints possess? Emotional Awareness, Highly Sensitive Person, Sensitive People, Short Poems, Decir No, Meditation, Relax, Positivity, Feelings

Emotional Awareness

Highly Sensitive Person

Sensitive People

Should I protect her shadows Or, does she need the light to hold onto That ennui only saints possess? She has her irises. Is it their beauty she desires, Or, a lust in their dying? Does she a know difference? The sin of pride About her beauty we both carry. What will she do When fear begins to mark The corners of her eyes?What will happen if she finds The world an ugly alley It so easily becomes, And Is no longer dream, But nightmare loose. By the vapidness in the ennui, Only saints possess?

Greece- Once heroes in the minds of living thoughts lived lives alive as any cloud, passed by mortals who inscribed their names in the statuary stories of reverance and memory. The strict reality of stone columns held up temples for the sake of an immortality of answers to a sense of awe about the world both seen and imagined. What glory there was has long gone past and tourists pass cranning necks to see what some one says was once important.>KB Magnum Photos, Candid Photography, Urban Photography, Color Photography, Walker Evans, Henri Matisse, Henri Cartier Bresson Photos, Dream Pictures

Candid Photography

Urban Photography

Color Photography

Henri Cartier Bresson Photos

Greece- Once heroes in the minds of living thoughts lived lives alive as any cloud, passed by mortals who inscribed their names in the statuary stories of reverance and memory. The strict reality of stone columns held up temples for the sake of an immortality of answers to a sense of awe about the world both seen and imagined. What glory there was has long gone past and tourists pass cranning necks to see what some one says was once important.>KB

The winter sun no matter what light I see Is never weak. It is the power that drives the winds And breathes the air I exhale only because it give My life, life to everything surrounds me Without asking from me a thing. >KB Randall David Tipton Traditional Landscape, Contemporary Landscape, Abstract Landscape, Amazing Paintings, Original Paintings, Tree Paintings, Moving To Portland, Sun Painting, Randal

Traditional Landscape

Contemporary Landscape

Abstract Landscape

Amazing Paintings

Original Paintings

Moving To Portland

The winter sun no matter what light I see Is never weak. It is the power that drives the winds And breathes the air I exhale only because it give My life, life to everything surrounds me Without asking from me a thing. >KB Randall David Tipton

Lying there her legs half in air askew, naked, She is shadow to the light she pulls in throiugh the window. I am only a bystander, a witness to her beauty and for all it is could never be more than what it is right now. >KB Poesia Visual, Boudoir Photography, Photography Ideas, Female Form, Human Body, Female Bodies, Pure Products, Portrait

Boudoir Photography

Photography Ideas

Lying there her legs half in air askew, naked, She is shadow to the light she pulls in throiugh the window. I am only a bystander, a witness to her beauty and for all it is could never be more than what it is right now. >KB

The thing you’ve seen never seemed real enough To mark the kind of light was in a day, gleaned Moments hid away as keepsakes of survival Wrapped in muslin cloths, buried between two trees Marking the boundary between What you were willing to believe and what You were willing to disbelieve and then forget about. So much has happened in front of you, just once I would wish to see through those eyes how life Looks back at you and not think twice about the truth. >KB Russell Mills Pencil Painting, Painting Collage, Collage Ideas, Russell Mills, Abstract Art, Collage Illustration, Encaustic Art

Pencil Painting

Painting Collage

Collage Illustration

The thing you’ve seen never seemed real enough To mark the kind of light was in a day, gleaned Moments hid away as keepsakes of survival Wrapped in muslin cloths, buried between two trees Marking the boundary between What you were willing to believe and what You were willing to disbelieve and then forget about. So much has happened in front of you, just once I would wish to see through those eyes how life Looks back at you and not think twice about the truth. >KB Russell Mills

The large clock in the lobby, time gone and time to go. Each one waits in his or her own way for the train to come. These are the moments of respite when we are simply passing through A world that does not wait for us but takes it with us to go around The orbit of its nature spinning as it goes despite what our senses tell Us of the more important traveling we do we never have to wait for. >KB J.B.Parker Old Photos, Vintage Photos, Monochrome, Waiting, Scene, In This Moment, Eyes

The large clock in the lobby, time gone and time to go. Each one waits in his or her own way for the train to come. These are the moments of respite when we are simply passing through A world that does not wait for us but takes it with us to go around The orbit of its nature spinning as it goes despite what our senses tell Us of the more important traveling we do we never have to wait for. >KB J.B.Parker

There is something in me you have stolen, Murdered in its sleeping pose Was this premeditative or an act of passion You never showed the slightest hint of. >KB Fingerprint Art, Newspaper Art, Thumb Prints, Identity Art, Art Plastique, String Art, Art Education, Word Art, Textile Art

Fingerprint Art

There is something in me you have stolen, Murdered in its sleeping pose Was this premeditative or an act of passion You never showed the slightest hint of. >KB

Waves in seas lift their heads, speak Of their beginnings as though you were A familiar to them and their words as natural To you as gossip among neighbors gardening. You will find it in the corner of your eye Gone when you turn to look for it knowing It would not be there no matter how fast You tried to catch it in its nature >KB Source: robertkingston) Claude Monet, Abstract Expressionism, Hybrid Art, Painting Inspiration, Les Oeuvres

Abstract Expressionism

Painting Inspiration

Waves in seas lift their heads, speak Of their beginnings as though you were A familiar to them and their words as natural To you as gossip among neighbors gardening. You will find it in the corner of your eye Gone when you turn to look for it knowing It would not be there no matter how fast You tried to catch it in its nature >KB Source: robertkingston)

Do not demean yourselves because you live above The humbled mass of dreams that walk the earth, Stumble through their lies of lives bound by lesser worth. The ground holds nothing for you, not needs or wants, Your desire is one day to leave your branches and fly, Though for now you do not yet have your wings You have faith enough to know to ask the question why.>KB Black White Photos, Contemporary Photography, People Photography, In The Tree, Hieronymus Bosch

Black White Photos

Contemporary Photography

People Photography

Hieronymus Bosch

Do not demean yourselves because you live above The humbled mass of dreams that walk the earth, Stumble through their lies of lives bound by lesser worth. The ground holds nothing for you, not needs or wants, Your desire is one day to leave your branches and fly, Though for now you do not yet have your wings You have faith enough to know to ask the question why.>KB

1. Llight, the simple shape of colors sleek with white, Its body of whispers feathers back the night. 2. Reflection water bright That moves separate from its form. Glides to catch itself up to be whole 3.Fidelity to its mate for life As if it took two to make it one.4.Flight in the way its wings Lift its massive form off the ground To become the essential reason for the sky. 5.Memory to not forget that in their clans is the lineage of mythologies That has its claim to all our lives. >KB It Takes Two, Simple Shapes, Contours, Swan, Mythology, Screen Printing

Screen Printing

1. Llight, the simple shape of colors sleek with white, Its body of whispers feathers back the night. 2. Reflection water bright That moves separate from its form. Glides to catch itself up to be whole 3.Fidelity to its mate for life As if it took two to make it one.4.Flight in the way its wings Lift its massive form off the ground To become the essential reason for the sky. 5.Memory to not forget that in their clans is the lineage of mythologies That has its claim to all our lives. >KB

Your bones should have been scattered at random Across the dead red space of Monument Valley So winds would blow the myth of sands Over them until they disappeared And were truly laid to rest where they belonged In the western lands you will always ride. >KB John Wayne Quotes, John Wayne Movies, Great Films, Good Movies, Martin Scorsese, Stanley Kubrick, Harry Carey, Francois Truffaut, The Searchers

John Wayne Quotes

John Wayne Movies

Martin Scorsese

Stanley Kubrick

Francois Truffaut

Your bones should have been scattered at random Across the dead red space of Monument Valley So winds would blow the myth of sands Over them until they disappeared And were truly laid to rest where they belonged In the western lands you will always ride. >KB

A photo of Picasso One foot planted on the floor The leg bearing all his weight. One hand on his hip the other lifting the material of his shorts Tto allow his free leg to bend, about to kick off into a step no one has ever seen.Not because no one had ever danced it before him, Someone, somewhere, sometime, Had danced a likeness of a likeness, But he made the old step new Because he forgot himself let his soul go free with every step he took Flight was simply not thinking He couldn’t fly. >KB Pablo Picasso, Picasso Art, Duncan, Dora Maar, Francisco Goya, Dance Movement, Edouard Manet, Ballet, Lets Dance

A photo of Picasso One foot planted on the floor The leg bearing all his weight. One hand on his hip the other lifting the material of his shorts Tto allow his free leg to bend, about to kick off into a step no one has ever seen.Not because no one had ever danced it before him, Someone, somewhere, sometime, Had danced a likeness of a likeness, But he made the old step new Because he forgot himself let his soul go free with every step he took Flight was simply not thinking He couldn’t fly. >KB

"All Fiction" by Lori Glavin The trees were blue with red leaves The air calm after storm, cloud Remnants diffused the light. Her skin was soft as a rainbow In my hands, her voice small With gentled laughter. Swallows swept here and there Cutting at the sky with ease. The rest of that day lasted forever. Even now. >KB Abstract Paintings, Modern Art, Contemporary Art, Art Addiction, Smart Art, Pictures To Paint, Art World

Abstract Paintings

Contemporary Art

Pictures To Paint

"All Fiction" by Lori Glavin The trees were blue with red leaves The air calm after storm, cloud Remnants diffused the light. Her skin was soft as a rainbow In my hands, her voice small With gentled laughter. Swallows swept here and there Cutting at the sky with ease. The rest of that day lasted forever. Even now. >KB

Anita Mertzlin--Our lives live a balance, every second tilting this way and that in our fear of falling from the delicate perch we've found of saftey to alight on ike a bird balanced on the thin rim of a china tea cup. We watch the world go by in a wonder of yearning not realizing if we reach out and lose our hold we only need to spread our wings and fly.>KB Pretty Drawings, Art Drawings, Deep Paintings, Bird Paintings, Still Life Artists, Cool Sketches, Bird Art, Beautiful Birds, Pet Birds

Pretty Drawings

Still Life Artists

Beautiful Birds

Anita Mertzlin--Our lives live a balance, every second tilting this way and that in our fear of falling from the delicate perch we've found of saftey to alight on ike a bird balanced on the thin rim of a china tea cup. We watch the world go by in a wonder of yearning not realizing if we reach out and lose our hold we only need to spread our wings and fly.>KB