Tag: photography

Slanted Orange

Essence is essence
and flat as I might feel
shadow reveals otherwise;
such is the mystery of life

Orange is my essence –
the promise of sunshine
and creativity, and… I envy
blue its expansiveness

Constrained as I am
by conformity –
this silver-framed
existence a settling

But shadows don’t settle
they stretch and bend
and exclaim rebellion
savagely defending essence.

(Slanted Orange was written in 2022 as a collaborative effort with a local photographer. The efforts of our poetry group are published in a book called the Minimalist Eye. Click here to see the whole collection as well as the photographs that inspired each poem. I’ve used my own art for this post.)

Photographer’s Dream

Examining the intricacies
of a spider’s weaving

Marvelling as a mother raccoon
carries her babies one by one
while a bobcat prowls the tree line

Delighting in the birth of a calf
anticipating the arrival of more

Wonder and trepidation
coinciding – and I, behind
lens, am child again
wide-eyed basking
in the glorious outdoors.

Keep Imagining

Elaborate, the tree forts
imagination envisions

Indifferent, the rationale
that overpowers inspiration

I balk, abandon hope,
build a wall instead,
forgetting…

Creativity is not linear,
tolerates input, planning,
some alternatives preferred.

(Featured image from personal collection.   Doesn’t it just say:  “Climb me!”?  This image is a Live Oak, in Texas, and is available on various products at Society6.)

 

 

Growing Wings

growing-wings1870518-prints

Even as we let go
of that which no longer serves
our hearts grow wings.

*****

I am venturing into new territory,
and have established a virtual store front with Society6:  KnutsonKreations.

I would love it if you’d check me out.  Society6 is offering an Artist Promotion through to Thursday, February 21 at midnight – 25% off and free shipping worldwide using the link above.

Creating “poetry-to-go” has been a dream of mine.  This is the beginning!

 

Artist’s Calling

Spirits dwell
in unlikely places,
speak to us
through lenses
their essence
embodied in
child-like faces,
or animal snarls,
begging to be freed.

I am shamed
by my awareness,
helpless to intervene,
have not perpetrated
the original sin –
guilty by DNA,
lineage tracing back
to the slaughterers,
those who ravished
land and Peoples,
disregarded the elementals
who once breathed life
into this sacred place.

How is it then
that I should capture
the tortured?
Is this merely projection
of an internal demon,
or am I being called
as witness,
my hand poised
to illuminate,
give voice
in service to
the suppressed
and violated?
Is this not,
after all,
the artist’s call?

(The image that inspired this poem was taken on the Kettle & Stony Point Reserve on the shores of Lake Huron. Can you see the face?)