Small Pyramid Sculpture – Sculpture and photo by KAMoore
A nice place to be
Finding ones middle
Not to the left or the right
A place of calm understanding
It takes much searching to find it
When you do It is even harder to keep
The world constantly working against you
Pushing and shoving To keep you from peace
Is it the nature of humans To fight and cause strife
Imbalance trying to surround us as it cuts like a knife
I will keep fighting to stay there through art and the like
Overcoming much struggle and conflict To walk in the light
Arches Utah, Edit and Original photo by, KAMoore
The early morning air was dry and biting.
Frost seeking to form, denied by the waterless atmosphere.
The desert spoke without moisture to sooth its grating voice.
It’s allure found in the silent petrified semblance bestowed on all things.
Even the living motionless, waiting, watching; Lizards, Snakes, Spiders, and Scorpions.
The fur covered beasts tucked away in the cracks and crevices enjoying their partners heat.
They all wait for the rising sun to reach it’s warming fingers over the distant mountains.
The rays touch teasing the blood to flow and bring motion to stilled creatures.
The wildflowers fading.
The monsoons sung.
The arid lands spread out seemingly endless to all points on the compass.
Lands that lay primarily quiet in wait, with sporadic dirt devil whispers and angry gales of impatience. In wait of the distant storms to bring fresh flowers, a deluge of waters and simultaneous eruption of green sprouts from the formerly charred and cracked earth.
Once again calm with practiced restraint.
The season of dry is long, make no mistake.
Dragons’ Fire Necklace in my year of the Dragon 2017 Necklace Design by KAMoore
My mind a tornado in a hurricane, leading a tsunami to a shore of paper huts.
My brain full of lightning dancing from cloud to cloud, singing it’s glassmaking bolts to the sands of the expansive seaboard.
Sparks fly from a million scalding synapse, receptors hardened from the embers, a flow of awareness spanning centuries.
I become all that I see.
I see all. I am all.
A wisdom of time immeasurable.
All things must run their course.
I still myself in volcanos for decades, barely a muscle moved.
For I have already seen.
Simple the minds of earthly creatures, I know their actions years before the first sparkle of an idea gleans.
The pains I comprehend so profound, the agonies of this existence illusory.
The pleasures I know, brighter than a birthing sun.
I Am Dragon
The excerpts of Dragon will be categorized together as a unfolding learning tool for myself. This year I shall make a young dragon of steel. I feel it best to know the mind of my subject to give my art life only knowledge and understanding can untether.
A Smile has no race, color, gender, preference, or religion. You could say it needs no translation, this wouldn’t be true. The smile must always be translated by the receiver.
A smile of warm recognition is one of the nicest to receive.
The brief smile of acknowledgement the most common. We use it for baristas and checkers at stores. Nothing wrong with the smile, it’s courteous and shows appreciation.
The devious smile, one of my more favorite. We use it in sharing an inside joke, or with a sparkle in the eye to a partner suggesting more than warm recognition.
Then there is the furrowed brow smile, asking. Shirley you can’t be serious? I use this one exclusively for politics as of late.
Then there is the evil smile. Plan on fighting or running when you see it.
There are also the millions of combinations to be read accurately or mistaken.
Translation is needed for all of these smiles, luckily humans are born with an innate ability and instinct to comprehend most without book or learning.
In the Heat of the Day ~ photo by KAMoore
It was a juicy story. Clothes set asunder, starting with body paints on faded sheets spread about the great room floor. Deciding to move their colorful expressions of nakedness outside. Each was unwilling to give up the others touch, they fumbled from the house hand in hand leaving traces of color on door frames and handles finding their way to the warm grasses and mud of a late summer shower. Nothing mattered, no one within miles to see the couples abandon. Sprawled in the rains, streams of muddied colors running off their bodies, washed clean before heading inside to a steamy hot shower only to begin again. Lust in love, loving the lust, intensity mixed with laughter. The type of intimacy that takes place between friends that are lovers. Lovers with the knowledge that friends have of each others needs and desires. Realized from countless hours of shared feelings and wine glasses filling and emptying like waves lapping the shore.
Distilled from the WordPress Daily Prompt word of the day: Juicy
For the Love of Photography – photo by KAMoore
I decided to challenge myself to photographing incense smoke some time ago. It was a success and I noticed some interesting extras mixed in! Heart above Dolphin below. I’ll add the unaccented heart to the end so you can see the unedited.
Deconstructed Rose, Photo by KAMoore
So you hoped for a big change and you voted.
The lies unfolded and you say that’s normal.
The bigotry, racism, discrimination, and chauvinism persisted and you say it’s nothing.
The narcissism, selfishness, childlike behavior, and obvious mental instability are undeniable and you remain sure something good will come of it.
The dangerous global interactions begin, the resignations, the obvious abuse of power. And you ignore it.
These are things that cannot be denied by even the simplest of humans.
I’m afraid that if a tree were to fall in the forest not only will you not hear it, it will hit you, it will crush you dead, and you will never have seen it coming.
When that time comes I would say I told you so, but the blind can’t read lips, the deaf can’t hear, and those crushed under trees can’t talk.
Even as I finish this and post it, I feel like it is a waste of my breath, time and words. Obstinance is the symptom and the disease.
I have no answers or solutions so I just speak my mind as I see it.
via Daily Prompt: Sound
Other writings on the topic:
A Poem for the Masses
Shirley you can’t be Serious