View allAll Photos Tagged POETS
Poet's Walk, Barrytown NY. Color desaturated on original. Merged with antique paper layer. [Reviewing my early uploads - 2010]
Since I can never see your face,
And never shake you by the hand,
I send my soul through time and space
To greet you. You will understand.
JAMES ELROY FLECKER
To a Poet a thousand years hence
Even when visiting the prairie you can forget the colors of the prairie. There seems a bright yellow and dull brown, a dusty and muted pall draped over the landscape.
The grasses are green. The grasses are brown. And your eyes can only notice the reds and blues at glances, if at all.
Apart from dawn and dusk, the sky shifts endlessly from white to blue to white while clouds build across the parching afternoon.
In summer there are few flowers, but even those come missing more often than not.
The colors in this photo are at once surreal and hyperreal. They exist in that uncertain light between the lens and the film.
The colors on the prairie are few, but giving into it feels more colorful; allowing yourself over to the prairie, scrambling with life, overcome with place and being, there exists an endless color spectrum of light.
This is how the prairie can feel.
I will often say something like "I try to make my color photos express how a place felt rather than how it looked," and that is what is happening here - though I cannot imagine it so for everyone.
Most see these nearly-desert places as empty, featureless, and ultimately colorless: the beauty is show through black & white, if at all. But here, in this photo (and with any luck in most of the prairie photos), our notions and expectations are merely the foundations for possibilities. Even this is little more than a starting place.
This photo shows nothing that wasn't already there. It invents nothing. It imagines nothing. It rearranges no design. What it does (I hope) is simply show you what is possible.
.
.
.
'A Poet Without'
Camera: Mamiya RB67
Film: Agfa Color XRS 400; x-90s
Process: DIY ECN-2
Nebraska
July 2023
De geschiedenis van dit plaatsje begint in de twaalfde eeuw na Christus toen gesticht werd door de Orde van de Hospitaliers. Evenals vele andere dorpjes in de nabije omgeving, heeft het door de eeuwen heen zwaar geleden onder de verschillende gewapende conflicten. Zo had het zwaar te leiden onder de gevolgen van de Godsdienstoorlogen. Zo raakte onder meer het kasteel bij het dorpje zwaar beschadigd en werden de verschillende verdedigingswerken van ontmanteld. Na de Godsdienstoorlogen raakte het zelfs in verval en dreigde dit mooie dorpje een spookdorpje te worden. Dankzij de inzet van de zogenaamde Amis du Vieux Poët-Laval, oftewel de Vereniging van Vrienden van Le Poët-Laval, werd dit voorkomen. Zo slaagden zij er in de plundering van het vervallen dorpje een halt toe te roepen, waardoor het dorpje kon uitgroeien tot het prachtige plaatsje zoals het vandaag de dag bekend staat. Le Poët-Laval behoort tot de mooiste dorpjes in het departement Drôme. Haar prachtige ligging, tegen een beboste heuvel, heeft hier ongetwijfeld mee te maken. Ondanks de turbulente geschiedenis van het plaatsje, heeft het dorpje haar middeleeuwse karakter weten te behouden. Oorspronkelijk was het plaatsje een rustig dorpje. Onder meer de Nederlandse schrijver Gerard Reve vond hier zijn rust. Vandaag de dag herbergt het plaatsje enkele bezienswaardigheden, zoals het oude kasteel van de Hospitaalridders, de oude kapel en het Dauphinois museum van het protestantisme.
Barns now cover the old walls of a farmstead on the site of the home of Donnchadh Bàn Mac an t-Saoir (Duncan Ban MacIntyre, 1724–1812), one of the most renowned Scottish Gaelic poets.
For a weekly theme suggested by another Flickr member.
Created with 3D models from Digital Artist Zone, and finished off with Topaz Impression.
no hawkers and salesmen allowed
inside ..a serious thought
on a board confide
to all others access denied
only a poet and photographer
riding a crest of time and tide
hijdas eunuchs naga sadhus
sufis rafaees
dont ever actually collide
a flickr photostream
mutually reside
holistically healing
a soul deep fried
humility is humanity
a world without pride
freedom of expression
regressive recession
though the hands are tied
om mani padme hoon
a blogger mantra
time tried
reinvented god
on his side
alpha inventions
cheru jackson
spiraling blog traffic
provide
Au milieu de nulle part, le monde de Robert Coudray s'anime, bruisse, prend de la couleur, joue avec les objets de récup' et la nature. Cela fait 25 ans que ce petit homme sensible au monde qui l'entoure le réinvente avec sa créativité.
www.tripadvisor.fr/Attraction_Review-g665004-d3321953-Rev...
www.facebook.com/pages/category/Art/Mus%C3%A9e-du-Po%C3%A...
www.facebook.com/lepoete.ferrailleur/posts/570725339744778
Merci pour vos visites et vos commentaires.
Ce(tte) œuvre est mise à disposition selon les termes de la Licence Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International.
The description of Lofoten as a fairy tale land comes from the Norway's great poet Bjornstjerne Bjornson.
When you like nature as me, Lofoten is an amazing place to be, especially Reine. Reine has been chosen by Time magazine as one of the most beautiful fjords in the world, a sight for sore eyes. The views are just breathtaking, snow covered mountains, deep fjords, and beautiful colors.
The weather in Lofoten changes rapidly in winter. First half of my trip it was none-stop raining almost every day, I spent most of my time scouting or sitting in my cozy water front Rorbu cabin and enjoying the view from the window.
Landscape photography is a waiting game, this is the one after ten days of waiting ...…
Does it look like a scene from Frozen?
More preloved motors at Horopito Motors.
Horopito Motors, also known as "Smash Palace". Part working car mechanics, part museum. If you are into rusty and crusty (or want used car parts) it is a great place to spend several hours photographing!
fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcisse_des_po%C3%A8tes
Un petit rappel
Toutes les jonquilles sont des Narcisses, mais tous les Narcisses ne sont pas des Jonquilles
fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcisse_des_po%C3%A8tes
A little reminder
Solo nei sogni gli uomini sono davvero liberi,
è da sempre così e così sarà per sempre.
John Keating “L’Attimo fuggente”
Only in dreams men are truly free,
it has always been so and will be so forever.
John Keating "Dead Poets Society"
Thanks for your visit :)
© All Rights Reserved
i am a child of the word.
conceived by the union of paper and pen,
formed and created by the words that take shape,
in poetry and literature's cultured and timely escape.
i am a child of the music,
created by the rhythm that gives life to blues,
forming my soul from nothingness,
shaping it to all soulful righteousness.
i am a child of the art,
Matured and nurtured by the strokes,
of the artist's brush on canvas with paint,
giving my life colour and culture not faint.
i am a child of the creative mind,
conceived in between insanity and earthly genius,
between all the arts in time and passionate love making,
i am the village poet born and bred, brewed and nurtured:
yours for the taking.
Barak Al'Mondia
“The soul of a poet is always in his native
country. His strength is in his words, which he
puts into rhythm, which reflects his perception of
what is happening around him. The poet, like a
warrior, always goes forward and fights for his
spiritual homeland holding a sword in his hands.
But he has no defense tools, so he can die at
any moment. That is why he always goes to the
end, putting all his strength into every step or
blow with the hope of seeing a new dawn over
the ruins."
*****
Art: A New Dawn
Artist: Rule Binder
Italien / Lombardei - Limone sul Garda
Limone sul Garda (Gardesano: Limù) is a town and comune in the province of Brescia, in Lombardy (northern Italy), at the western bank of Lake Garda.
History
Despite the presence of famous cultivations of lemons (the meaning of limone in Italian), the town's name is probably derived from the ancient lemos (elm) or limes (Latin: boundary, referring to the communes of Brescia and the Bishopric of Trento). Between 1863 and 1905 the denomination of the comune was Limone San Giovanni.
On 13 September 1786, the famous German poet J. Wolfgang Goethe passed by the village by boat and described with this words its lemon gardens:
"We passed Limone, the mountain-gardens of which, laid out terrace-fashion, and planted with citron-trees, have a neat and rich appearance. The whole garden consists of rows of square white pillars placed at some distance from each other, and rising up the mountain in steps. On these pillars strong beams are laid, that the trees planted between them may be sheltered in the winter. The view of these pleasant objects was favored by a slow passage, and we had already passed Malcesine when the wind suddenly changed, took the direction usual in the day-time, and blew towards the north."
(Italian Journey, J. Wolfgang Goethe, 1816–17)
Until the 1940s, the town was reachable only by lake or through the mountains, with the road to Riva del Garda being completed in 1932, but today Limone is one of the most renowned tourist resorts in the area.
Health
In 1979, researchers discovered that people in Limone possess a mutant form of apolipoprotein (called ApoA-1 Milano) in their blood, that induced a healthy form of high-density cholesterol, which resulted in a lowered risk of atherosclerosis and other cardiovascular diseases.
The protein appears to have given residents of the village extreme longevity - a dozen of those living here are over the age of 100 (for c. 1,000 total inhabitants). The origin of the mutation has been traced back to a couple who lived in Limone in the 17th century. Research has been ongoing to develop pharmaceutical treatments against heart disease based on mimicking the beneficial effects of the ApoA-1 mutation.
(Wikipedia)
Limone sul Garda ist eine italienische Gemeinde am Westufer des Gardasees in der Provinz Brescia in der Lombardei. Die an der Gardesana Occidentale liegende Gemeinde hat 1142 Einwohner (Stand 31. Dezember 2019). Das ursprüngliche Fischerdorf ist heute ein Touristenort mit vielen modernen Hotels und Ferienwohnungen. In Limone befinden sich die beiden Häfen Porto Vecchio und Porto Nuovo.
Der Name Limone leitet sich wahrscheinlich nicht, wie oft angenommen, von den umliegenden Zitronenhainen ab, sondern vom lateinischen Wort limes (Grenze). Denn einst endete in Limone die Republik Venedig. Trotzdem wird dort hauptsächlich das „Zitronen-Image“ vermarktet.
Geographie
Der Ort liegt direkt am nördlichen Westufer des Gardasees und ist im Nordwesten von Felswänden umgeben. Unmittelbar nordöstlich von Limone grenzt die Gemeinde Riva del Garda an. Im Südwesten befindet sich die Gemeinde Tremosine.
Geschichte
Limone war ursprünglich ein kleines Dorf, das zwischen 1426 und 1797 zur venezianischen Magnifica Patria, einem Zusammenschluss der westlichen Gemeinden des Gardasees und einem Teil des Sabbiatals, gehörte. Mit Einmarsch der Truppen Napoleons wurde dieser Zusammenschluss 1797 aufgelöst. Nach dem Wiener Kongress im Jahre 1815 war Limone dem lombardisch-venezianischen Königreich zugehörig und damit auch dem Kaisertum Österreich.
Österreich gab nach dem Sardinischen Krieg seine Herrschaft über die Lombardei ab, und so fiel Limone an das 1861 gegründete Königreich Italien. Die Grenze zu Österreich befand sich dabei nur wenige Kilometer nördlich von Limone. Die unmittelbare Nähe zur Grenze hatte zur Folge, dass Limone in der Zeit des Ersten Weltkrieges frühzeitig vom Kriegsgeschehen erfasst wurde. Zunächst flüchtete ein Teil der Einwohnerschaft in das nahe gelegene Tremosine. Im September 1916 wurden schließlich auch die verbliebenen Einwohner evakuiert. Zuvor mussten die Plantagenbesitzer das gesamte Abdeckmaterial der Gewächshäuser an das Militär abgeben. Dies führte dazu, dass der Anbau von Zitrusfrüchten nicht mehr möglich war. Von 1863 bis 1905 war der Gemeindename Limone San Giovanni.
Zwischen 1928 und 1931 erfolgte der Bau der Gardesana Occidentale von Gargnano nach Riva. Limone war bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt nur über unwegsame Saumpfade oder per Schiff erreichbar. Die Eröffnung der Straße führte zu wirtschaftlichem Aufschwung und auch zu einer Zunahme des Fremdenverkehrs. Um die Uferbereiche innerhalb des Dorfes besser zu erschließen, wurde dann 1939 die Strandpromenade errichtet.
Wirtschaft und Infrastruktur
Im Jahre 2016 lag der Ort bei der Zahl der Übernachtungen pro Anzahl Einwohner mit deutlichem Abstand an erster Stelle, bei der absoluten Anzahl an einundvierzigster.[2]
Im Gemeindegebiet gab es zum 31. Dezember 2015 87 Beherbergungsbetriebe mit insgesamt 6.841 Betten.
Etwa 10.000 Touristen kommen täglich während der Sommersaison nach Limone. Für sie wurden große Parkplätze am Ortsrand eingerichtet, da in der Altstadt aufgrund enger Gassen kein Autoverkehr möglich ist.
Sehenswürdigkeiten
Das Stadtbild ist unter anderem durch die berühmten Zitronenhaine geprägt. Sie sind unter anderem durch folgende Beschreibung Goethes vom 13. September 1786 berühmt geworden:
„Heute früh um drei Uhr fuhr ich von Torbole weg mit zwei Ruderern. Anfangs war der Wind günstig, daß sie die Segel brauchen konnten. Der Morgen war herrlich, zwar wolkig, doch bei der Dämmerung still. Wir fuhren bei Limone vorbei, dessen Berggärten, terrassenweise angelegt und mit Zitronenbäumen bepflanzt, ein reiches und reinliches Ansehn geben. Der ganze Garten besteht aus Reihen von weißen viereckigen Pfeilern, die in einer gewissen Entfernung voneinander stehen und stufenweis den Berg hinaufrücken. Über diese Pfeiler sind starke Stangen gelegt, um im Winter die dazwischen gepflanzten Bäume zu decken. Das Betrachten und Beschauen dieser angenehmen Gegenstände ward durch eine langsame Fahrt begünstigt, und so waren wir schon an Malcesine vorbei, als der Wind sich völlig umkehrte, seinen gewöhnlichen Tagweg nahm und nach Norden zog.“
– Goethe: Italienische Reise
Sonstiges
Um 1980 entdeckten Wissenschaftler bei den Bewohnern ein mutiertes Molekül eines Apolipoproteins im Blut. Dieses senkt das Erkrankungsrisiko von Arteriosklerose und anderer Herz-Kreislauferkrankungen.
(Wikipedia)
Mike Barlew, an American poet, has sent me a poem he wrote about Lisbon, my city. I asked for his permission to publish it here together with a photo. And here it is now.
Lisboa
They return
To their
Birthplace
To light and
Shadows
To color
And thought
To smoky
Cafes and
Heroic
Dress
In rain
And fog
Shrouded
In mystery
Returning to
The voyage
Of discovery
Port of Poets
© mBarlew
Fu Verona il "primo rifugio e 'l primo ostello" di Dante Alighieri (Paradiso, canto XVII, v.70), cacciato da Firenze nel 1302.
Verona era perfetta per l'esule e per il poeta.
PASSEI O DIA OUVINDO O QUE O MAR DIZIA
Eu hontem passei o dia
Ouvindo o que o mar dizia.
Chorámos, rimos, cantámos.
Fallou-me do seu destino,
Do seu fado...
Depois, para se alegrar,
Ergueu-se, e bailando, e rindo,
Poz-se a cantar
Um canto molhádo e lindo.
O seu halito perfuma,
E o seu perfume faz mal!
Deserto de aguas sem fim.
Ó sepultura da minha raça
Quando me guardas a mim?...
Elle afastou-se calado;
Eu afastei-me mais triste,
Mais doente, mais cansado...
Ao longe o Sol na agonia
De rôxo as aguas tingia.
«Voz do mar, mysteriosa;
Voz do amôr e da verdade!
- Ó voz moribunda e dôce
Da minha grande Saudade!
Voz amarga de quem fica,
Trémula voz de quem parte...»
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
E os poetas a cantar
São echos da voz do mar!
António Botto, in 'Canções', 1920.
MÚSICA: Penguin Cafè The Fox and the Leopard
A photo of the sculpted busts of Robbie Burns and Lord Byron taken through the reflection on a glass door of the book shelves in the Yarmouth Library.
Christine Timm is a NYC performance poet, drawing inspiration from jazz and ska, West African griottes, Ginsberg and Bukowski, and a bucket of spoken word artists. Her recently completed dissertation, Breaking the Silence: Manifestations of the Oral Tradition in 20th Century Literature landed her a Ph.D. from the City of New York Graduate Center, where she was a student of Allen Ginsberg.
At the Bowery Poetry Club in lower Manhattan, Christine co-hosts and co-produces the New York City College Poetry Slam as well as other shows, like the LOVE POETRY HATE RACISM events. For the youngsters, she produces the popular Bowery Kids Series, known for providing interactive, educational, but essentially quirky entertainment and workshops.
She also co-hosts and co-produces Westchester County’s only PSI (Poetry Slam, Inc.) registered slam.
Christine is Associate Professor of English at Westchester Community College, where she takes great pleasure in teaching composition, Modern American Poetry, and Creative Writing. She curates the Poets and Writers reading series and produces a slew of campus poetry events. She is faculty advisor to the current NYC College Slam championship team, the Urban Poets Society. She is also senior editor of the campus creative writing journal, Ink.
In addition to hitting the stage with her distinctive spoken word spin, she has print publications in places, like American Book Review and Beat Culture: The 1950s and Beyond. She has served proudly as featured poet of the month for Poets Against the War. Her poetry and performance schedule are available at www.christinetimm.com
When she’s not pushing poetry, Christine is kicking up dust with Niall O’Leary and his Irish dancing ensemble. The group has performed at many of the major New York City venues, like Symphony Space, as well as all of the real Irish pubs in town. They dance regularly with the NYC based Irish rock band, Black 47.
After swinging her entire life from one NYC borough to the other, Christine Timm moved with her husband, Bob James, and children to Westchester County. She has three lively sons, who all enjoy entertaining her with their mischievous antics.
"Many poets are not poets for the same reason that many religious men are not saints: they never succeed in being themselves. They never get around to being the particular poet or the particular monk they are intended to be by God. They never become the man or the artist who is called for by all the circumstances of their individual lives. They waste their years in vain efforts to be some other poet, some other saint...They wear out their minds and bodies in a hopeless endeavor to have somebody else's experiences or write somebody else's poems."
"What we have to be is what we are."
— Thomas Merton
The founding members of the literary anthology "tomorrow" published in 1908/1909 and considered as the starting point of modern Hungarian literature: Endre Ady, Gyula Juhász, Akos Dutka, Tamás Emőd.
This guy is on Larimer Square every weekend. I've taken multiple pictures of him over the years.
© Web-Betty: digital heart, analog soul
Run Poet.....Ruuuuuuuun!
Again, I apologize for the poor quality of the post production (uh?!? what? are you kidding us?!?) I HATE working on my crappy laptop with no mouse, I miss my dual screen mega machine back in Montreal, everything takes forever and after a couple of hours I just give up...no worry, you don't even have a clue about what I am talking about...now, do you?!?
Jim Harrison, a poet, writer and native Michigander passed away over the weekend at 78. He wrote and lived in Leelanau County for the majority of his life. For anyone not familiar with his prolific body of work he is best known for his novella "Legends of the Fall".
I found great inspiration in his words and cannot recall a winter in the last dozen years I haven't read "Just Before Dark," a collection of non-fiction that has always left me wanting and able to live a little closer to the bone.
"If you are bored, strained, lacerated, enervated by the way we live now, I suggest a night walk as far as you can get from a trace of civilization. This form of walking is a dance, and the ghost that follows you, your moon-cast shadow, is your true androgynous parent, bearing within its distinct outline the child who has always directed your every move."
-Jim Harrison
www.chicagotribune.com/lifestyles/books/ct-prj-jim-harris...