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I'll begin my day with a poem:
Being small
Is no problem at all
It's never
Too far to fall
My best friend
Is a doll
I'm nearly invisible
When I crawl
No one will ever say
"You are too tall"
Being small
Is the most magical thing
Of all.
Ihr, die ihr euch mit der Kraft der unbekannten
Gestirne umwickelt wie Garnrollen,
die ihr näht und wieder auftrennt das Genähte,
die ihr in die Sprachverwirrung steigt
wie in Bienenkörbe,
um im Süßen zu stechen
und gestochen zu werden –
Völker der Erde,
zerstört nicht das Weltall der Worte,
zerschneidet nicht mit den Messern des Hasses
den Laut, der mit dem Atem zugleich geboren wurde.
Völker der Erde,
O daß nicht Einer Tod meine, wenn er Leben sagt –
und nicht Einer Blut, wenn er Wiege spricht –
Völker der Erde,
lasset die Worte an ihrer Quelle,
denn sie sind es, die die Horizonte
in die wahren Himmel rücken können
und mit ihrer abgewandten Seite
wie eine Maske dahinter die Nacht gähnt
die Sterne gebären helfen –
~ Nelly Sachs ~
The tactful cactus by your window
Surveys the prairie of your room
The mobile spins to its collision
Clara puts her head between her paws
They've opened shops down the West side
Will all the cacti find a home
But the key to the city
Is in the sun that pins the branches to the sky.
-David Bowie
🎵 Eight Line Poem 🎶
Polaroid 600, Polaroid OneStep Blue Roundtop.
27August2020
downtown boise, id
taken 20 February 2025
mamiya 7ii
mamiya 80mm f/4
lomography redscale 100
Scanned with dslr
Home developed
cinestill cs41
3 min 30 sec
Reajusto la mirada per veure un nou cel
des de la mateixa finestra.
Em sobrevolo a mi quan sóc
i no sóc per ser l'altre de mi.
Visc sota l'aixopluc del no-res,
entre quatre estacions
i sempre neva i sempre plou.
Embasto el present amb la lluna i el sol.
陆游《梅花绝句》：
闻道梅花圻晓风，雪堆遍满四山中；
何方可化身千亿，一树梅花一放翁。
【注释】听说梅花已在清晨开放，雪白的花朵像雪花一样在周围的山上到处盛开；怎样才能让自己化身千千万万，每棵梅花树下都有我陆放翁在赏花。
Cumberland Castle
Gmunden, Upper Austria, Austria
Sony ILCE-7M3
Sony FE 24mm f/1.4 GM
24mm / ƒ/2.2 / 1/800s / ISO 100
" Gli alberi sono poesie che la terra scrive sopra il cielo"
" Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky"
(K. Gibran)
Algo ha muerto en mi y no lo encuentro.
Desde la estrella del alba hasta la puesta del sol
No soy yo...
Como frenesi de excesos, fue mi mostruoso EGO.
Como sabiduria hueca, fue mi razonamiento.
y quien me podra mostrar ¿Que vendra despues?
La cordura logra asir a la prudencia, como si fuera una victoriosa espada en mano ganando la batalla; Asi como la necedad va directo a perderla en medio de ella.
Y aunque mañana tenga que volver a empezar, se que Dios aun con todo, me guiara.
-MiliGramo
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
Day 10 - Life right Now
Good prompt for me today because I wanted to get my daughter's FAVs at 15 done this month as well. I had her update the list today and this is the result.
I kept this design simple because I wanted the pictures to take center stage. I used the patterned papers to create my 'quilt' so to speak.
These type of lo's are great for teenagers and even young children because their tastes change so quickly. I will list the prompts below in case anyone else may want to have them. Sometimes I add to the list -depending on daughter's age.
_____________________
Favorite:
holiday, song, movie, food/meal, tv show, smell, books, relaxing activity, color, drink, sport, flower, restaurant, vacation spot, best friend, poem, quote, celebrity, things to spend allowance on, things about your bedroom, electronic/gadget, piece of clothing......
In a perfect world a Varanassi flower girl would sell the bunch in time for lunch, on weekdays she'd go to class, learn to read and get grades that pass, she'd raise her kids to do the same, to rise above and always behave, that flowers are gifts for those we love and I sold them for the better life I knew there was.
© Ben Heine | Facebook | Twitter | www.benheine.com
A picture I recently took in a lovely garden in Braives, Belgium...
Please see here below a detail of the above shot and other pics
of Caroline. Model: Caroline Madison. MUA: Michaelle Markus.
(Taken with my new Canon EOS 5D Mark II, nice camera)
______________________________________________
For more information about my art: info@benheine.com
______________________________________________
If I Were A Fairy
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
If I were a fairy
I'd always be with you
My gray bearded and hairy
Leprechaun in blue
We could be so close
In endless wishing dreams
Where the summer grows
Thru twilight sage beams
If I were a queen
And you were a king
In kingdom of evergreen
Where soft breeze sing
We could give our heart
Flowing endlessly in beat
Where melodies impart
And other worlds meet
If there was no realty
Determined by conclusion
and you would all see
With eyes of illusion
We could be in a dream
King and a queen
Where vague ways seem
The only ones seen
This poem is dedicated, in a narrow sense, to my immigrant grandparents, who raised nine children on a farm in Saratoga, NY.
But I wish to dedicate it in a larger sense to any and all who have contributed toward the good of others, by sharing the gifts they were blesssed with.
Friends, that's everyone!
Kamera: Olympus IS-100
Film: Kodak T-MAX 100 (Kodak 5052 TMX)
Kjemi: Tetenal Ultrafin
Min drøm ble et dikt som jeg skulle ha skrevet.
Mitt dikt ble et liv som jeg skulle ha levet.
Drømmen og diktet ble ett.
Acrylic on MDF
This painting was given to a young student of mine
•
•
Held in hand,
Oil flows over and under the curves
A crystal, the reflection is present
Rare
But among others of its kind
In the empty cleanliness of the sea it is
Known in the affectionate touch;
unknown to the vast
Lifeless, yet still full of lifetimes
She is a scientist at the edge of the thick water
A garnet in hand, it glimmers momentarily
Before the sun settles over the Dead Sea •
•
•
*Echo CVXXXV *
The approach of the moon
Compress my chest
And the great tides
Raise my heart. .
Phosphorescent night,
The cat's eyes light up
From the thick silence,
One almost can smell the odor .
.
And this magic box
Deeply in my heart,
This fairy heart
Who does not open ...
.
These telluric hours
Where I do not explode,
This critical point
That I do not reach ... .
My cold envelope ... .
Tired of epic fights
That I lead against me,
At the Amnestic Days
Where I do not belong to myself.
.
My cold envelope ... .
by Thomas Horvat.
For original French and Spanish click on the link:
Poem 14 from OUTCASTS IN GREENWOOD: Poems inspired by the Medieval Robin Hood Ballads
THE KING'S PARDON
His forearms burly as oak limbs,
His eyes singular as acorns:
I should have known.
The flexed wrist tendoned as leaf veins,
The narrow iris green as chlorophyll,
Were due warning.
When fox and wolf missed the butts
My zeal was sharp for buffeting,
Lugs red from clouting.
An arrow astray; his fist
Is hard as oakwood, seasoned
With sun and smoke.
I croak, and spit out loam;
The oak leaves wreath his snarl.
I cringe, and call him king.
Poem by Giles Watson; reading recorded on 2nd April, 2010.
For further details on the background to these poems, see my Outcasts in Greenwood set, here:
www.flickr.com/photos/29320962@N07/sets/72157608384905983/
The pictures are illustrations of the Robin Hood legend, spanning the 15th to the 20th centuries. The photo and the pencil drawing of the King are my own.
You will find more than 190 of my poems HERE. fno.org/poetry/index.html
Glories
As time goes by
We gather glories
Here and there
As best we can
As if life were a picnic
The world a vast meadow
Wild flowers beckoning
Wishing it seems
To be gathered up
Glories abound
But for the picking
The carriage
The choice of vase
And as with flowers
May wilt and fade
With the passage of time
Each day we pass by glories
Rushing from here to there
Intent on the business of life
We fail to see the dance
Sway to the tune
Passersby
We miss the symphony
The poetry
And the song
© Jamie McKenzie, all rights reserved
You will find more of my poems and songs here
and in The Storm in Its Passing and Flights of Fancy.
My songs are at
~~ Dans la Forêt ~~
************************************
Dans la Forêt...je respire.
Sur ses chemins, j'oublie le pire.
Dans ses couleurs, je n'ai plus peur.
Et ses odeurs calment mon cœur .
Quand un tourment ou un chagrin
Me prive d'air à en pleurer,
Je m'en vais tel un pèlerin,
Y chercher paix, sérénité.
Mais qu'un bonheur ou une joie,
Vienne inonder ma vie d'espoir,
J'y cours aussi , sans le vouloir,
Et j'y partage tout mon émoi.
Sous ses arbres je me sens bien.
Tout est calme et bruits feutrés.
Devant moi , courent mes Chiens.
Et tout mon être est apaisé...
When i was small, i heard a poem like this:
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
Poem.
Honeysuckle.
Clematis.
Wisteria.
Ox-Eye Daisy.
Ferns.
Speedwell.
Dog-Rose.
Foxglove.
Delphinium.
Rosemary.
Lawn and
Meadow Grasses.
But a small selection of plants,
found in this English Country Garden.
Nestling, snugly, into this lush green,
wooded valley, in the Chiltern Hundreds,
Hambleden seems part of the landscape,
not bolted on.
With its red-clay tile-hung roofs,
and white, grey and black Flint walls,
this is one of the loveliest villages in England.
Iconic, beautiful and, seemingly, everlasting.