Shimmering Shadow Ripples

Posted on February 9, 2024 by Kenne under Light, micropoetry, nature photography, Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized

Dancing, waving serenades

Of thrusting interlopers rippling peaceful pools

Mimic summer antiquity; Light-drenched bliss-February tendril

Tease touch of embalming July sunshine

Shimmering Shadow Ripples

Photo and micro-poetry: Kenne

Rapture

Posted on January 20, 2024 by Kenne under creative writing, micropoetry, Nature, nature photography, Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized

Still and immutable

Baptism of tumbling surf

Cradles stern granite

Into eternal Rapture

Star Child – Short Story

Posted on December 16, 2023 by Kenne under Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing

Fantasy, Science Fiction Age: Teen/Adult

Star Child

Part One

By K Adam (aka Kenne)

“Shit…Shit… Shit!!!” wailed Mary, as the virgin white curtains quivered. She was petrified! Mary summoned the courage and looked down at her belly. Her stomach was gouged to the core, blood was profusely streaming down her legs and pooling on the floor, glistening and bubbling, generating a crackling sound. Mary sobbed deep sobs, her chest heaving, terrified that this repeating trauma would never end, delirious in her shallow sleep, unsure if it was real or imaginary. Then she woke up, peeled the sweat-soaked sheets away from her, and her husband Stanley hugged her and reassured her it was only another one of those dreams. Yet Mary was skeptical, she was frightened of falling back into a tormented sleep, so she went out on the porch and stared up at the stars. It was amazing she could discern anything on this winter night in Brooklyn, NY, on January 21, 2052. Maybe that was the Big Dipper? Anyhow, somehow the night sky seemed safer than her bed.

When she was a child, Mary had a repeating nightmare. In her dream, she was a little girl running through flower-filled fields at her grandparents’ farm in Maine when a meteor came crashing through the delicate, light blue sky and targeted her yet again, chasing her with a frightening fury. She believed in her dream the alien meteor was targeting her belly, and she cradled her belly like she had a precious cargo secret within her that the molten rock was trying to decimate. She had had these nightmares since she was three. In one version of the dream, the meteor actually hit her while she was running and crushed her body against a sheer granite rock cliff, she was pinned and immobile, and she was profusely bleeding from her belly button. Her ragged, raw skin hung out around her belly button and yellow light and blood were flowing out in a gush at the same rate. She was so confused and distraught. She woke up and complained of belly pain, but her parents checked her, and nothing was anatomically or medically wrong. By the time she was nine, the psychiatrist concluded she was delusional and recommended anti-psychotic medication, but her parents patently refused. The memories continued to haunt her into adult life, especially when she was by herself.

To be continued in next post… stay tuned!

Posted on December 16, 2023 by Kenne under Uncategorized

Mast Adrift

Posted on January 22, 2022 by Kenne under micropoetry, Nature, nature photography, Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized

Mast adrift

swirling gusty typhoon

subtle wind-print

eradicating bland winter hues

fiercely erect

Guides cycling seasons back to robin’s egg; leaf-tweet

Buds erupt into bountiful sails

Pandemic Spring Proclamations

Posted on May 18, 2020 by Kenne under covid, pandemic, Poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

Shackled tints

Petalled hints

Of past hopeful springs, alas

Memories of picnic blanket on verdant plush green grass; bright sunshine skin rush

Now muted, faded in a bulbous thundercloud

Four walls creeping into a pandemic scaredy-shroud

Blankets smothering

Numb-ed action

Let Divine Light illuminate deepest crooked doubt

Burn gasping fog

Unmask this tyranny of trajectories

Exposing a blissful breath; sun wrapped lung

As Hope permeates ice-hut diligence

Families reunite

Old friends sing the joys of old; playing by the chapel of faith whisperers

Children chattering cheerful meetings in the yard; virtual worlds shattering

Peace erupts through the masked hearts

And the virus is stilled, like a tiny bug squashed under the Herculean call of togetherness

And I are you and you are I – all is one and one is All

Trembling past crumbling to brave future

Light burst blood arteries

Ushers in new forecasts of faith; proclamations of the moment

Picnicking again by the hints and hues of Spring 2020 flowers, live, wild in the parks with our neighbours, frisbee filled flings, sharing sun and hugs

Delirious to join in a spring song fantasy.