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To see the Summer Sky

Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie --

True Poems flee --

~Emily Dickinson


I dedicate this picture to the fabulous Vol-au-Vent, who was kind enough to write a testimonial for me - my first! Thank you, dear Kiki!


A note to my contacts: I'm going to be changing the privacy setting on photos of my children to "friends and family" only. I'll be going through my contacts list today and making sure my most trusted contacts are marked as friends. If I miss you and you would like to be able to see my wacky kids, just send me a quick Flickr mail :-).... (this mostly applies to photos of my youngest, as my older children tend to flee when the camera comes out)


Front Page July 6, 2009 Thanks so much, everyone :-)

... poème sauvage ...!!!


... poem taken in the savannah near the Maison de la Lune ...!!!


... un poème pris dans la savanne derrière la Maison de la Lune ...!!!

Dreams are the bright creatures of poem and legend, who sport on earth in the night season, and melt away in the first beam of the sun, which lights grim care and stern reality on their daily pilgrimage through the world. Charles Dickens


Listening to: Be thankful for what you've got by Curtis Mayfield

"It is this imagination that binds. Pen in hand, fingers spread evenly on a keyboard. Wipe the frost, find the pulse. Tell them what ails, or inspires. Reveal the colors, be it agony, intense and miserably cold, or thoughts of romance, desires, engulfed or enflamed by simple candlelight. Set the temperature and tone, open the page, begin."

Excerpt from "This Winter" by Charles Mariano


Listening to: Reflection by Re-trick

Time, just a bodily experience;

With the change of times...

Events unwarranted , undesirable

Mere glimpses as it appears,

Of ever-changing substance...


The viewer and the view

Change like a flicker

Every perception an illusion

Every perceiver the same


Certain is the state

Before birth and after death

Uncertain is the state

In between birth and death


Look at those changes

Like an entertainment

Scenes changing in a play

Queer, and a source of enjoyment


Open the inner eyes

Awaken the Soul

You are neither body nor a living being

Your power knows no bounds.


- Anuj Nair


:copyright: 2011 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.




:copyright: 2011 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.

All images and poems are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images and poems without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78- isg 154/97-L.248/2000). All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed, posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.

Nine poems, the second one is made of water. the sky smiles, the water-lillies flies...

The first one:

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,

We fell them down and turn them into paper,

That we may record our emptiness.

~Kahlil Gibran

... in black ink ...*


NO awards and ugly icons, please. .

If you like the image just make a comment.

:copyright: Markus Lehr, 2015 I book I prints I website


Voici une photo que j'avais déjà partagé il y'a peu en noir et blanc...

La voici, en version en couleur, parce que....


... j'en avais envie..


Bon dimanche à tous ;)


The wind was warm on my cheek. The morning chorus echoed in the valley below in a song that lasted for miles. I was watching the world turn. I saw the earth wake from its slumber to the light of a star.


follow me on facebook:


and 500px:



Winner of contest Bw 106 in The 500x500 / SQUARE format group




© Anne d'Huart





"the swirl of the wind and of the river --

oblivious to winter..." -- William Carlos Williams

Good Tuesday Morning.


Hoping to receive some haha...

Love Poem -

Click on image:)




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Thank you ALL my friends for faves,comments,notes & lovely support.:))

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Copyrighted work: Link


Please don't use my work under any circumstances without my permission! My work does not belong to the public domain. My work may not be reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted or uploaded in any form without my permission ! For other questions, please contact me!

All my works are copyrighted..

hi dear girl and boys,how's everything?

l watched many movies these days and l feel much better about u recently?


after my movie time,l want to read one elegant poem for you this night.

and also need to listen ♫ Our Hell of Emily Haines.



A long - long Sleep - A famous - Sleep -

That makes no show for Morn -

By Stretch of Limb - or stir of Lid -

An independent One -


Was ever idleness like This ?

Upon a Bank of Stone

To bask the Centuries away -

Nor once look up - for Noon ?


一個漫長 - 漫長的睡眠 - 一個有名的 - 睡眠 -

毫無晨起的跡象 -

伸展四肢 - 或眨一下眼皮-

一個獨立的睡眠 -




曬上數世紀的太陽 -



*The Poems of Emily Dickinson #654*

Lies waiting a spark, to invigorate a flame

A spark pervasive, in darkness always

Every atom advancing, perpetual in ethereal waves

Every Sun an atom and every atom a sun

Though candles are different, with same fire they burn

Like atoms of life of vain personalities

Every living being, deriving motivating force

From the living ocean of power, the unlimited source

All bodies are mine, one and same consciousness pervading

'Beyond' is just what the senses can't perceive


- Anuj Nair



© 2010 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.


Contact :



© 2010 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.

All images and poems are the property of Anuj Nair.

Using these images and poems without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000). All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed, posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.


10 km far from Drama city in Greece the sky and the empty road creates a poem in my mind

"A picture is a poem without words."

Quote - Horace



The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.

On their blotter of fog the trees

Seem a botanical drawing --

Memories growing, ring on ring,

A series of weddings.


Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,

Truer than women,

They seed so effortlessly!

Tasting the winds, that are footless,

Waist-deep in history --


Full of wings, otherworldliness.

In this, they are Ledas.

O mother of leaves and sweetness

Who are these pietàs?

The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.

by Sylvia Plath


I was invited by Smarie Clay to contribute an illustration for a poem in the summer issue of 'Air Poetry Magazine', stationed in Kalamazoo, Michegan.

I was pleased to hear that all proceeds are to go to the Save The Children Foundation.

A4 mixed media on paper

Taken in South San Francisco

The poetically lovely dahlias are holding court in the gardens now. Marvels of symmetry, shapes and colors they brave the cold evenings to bask in the warm October sun.


And this, October 27th, 2014, would have been Dylan Thomas's 100th birthday.


"Poem in October" read by the poet: [}.


Have a wonderful week, everyone! :)

august snowdrop, smooth tunes, big, little. here .






no big glittery icons or invitations , please !

The lonely flower

A lonely, sad flower

all alone by its self

how lonely it is.


(Mueed's 1st poem.The poem was written by him in 2006, when he was in in 4th Grade:))

The sketch is also by Mueed:)

Here is an image from other flickr member goes with this poem too:)

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky. We fell them and turn them into newspapers that we may record our emptiness.


-Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931)


" Gli alberi sono poesie che la terra scrive sopra il cielo"


" Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky"


(K. Gibran)

My birthday began with the water

Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name

Above the farms and the white horses

And I rose

In a rainy autumn

And walked abroad in shower of all my days


Poem in October, Dylan Thomas

“Gardens are poems

Where you stroll with your hands in your pockets."


"Les jardins sont des poemes

Ou l'on se promene les mains dans les poches.”

Pierre Albert-Birot


textures thanks to PaintedWorksbyKB and TCP.

A picture I can not take credit for, however i know it is a friendship ship and I thought it was fitting for poem. large view eaiser to read of course.

Fraternal things, cosmic memory

Of the divine hope

Which expands in an infinite thrust

And cools into forms of granite,

Earth and fire – beautiful brute forms!

And it kindles in the imperfect creature

(Humanized, embodied night)

Souls, which are intimate stars

Teixeira de Pascoaes[Portugal] 1877–1952


Cousas fraternas, cósmica lembrança

Divina esperança,

Que se expande num ímpeto infinito

E se condensa em formas de granito,

De terra e fogo, – as brutas formas belas!

E acende na imperfeita criatura

(Humanizada noite, com figura)

As almas, que são íntimas estrelas.


Celebration of poetry day!


Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.

John Muir

............................................. “Midway”


I don’t know all the bright and shinning paths to heaven,


But I do know that midway along the way we choose

between shadow...and light.


I don’t know if a day shall be marked... "end of days"


But I do know that if it were so, it would fall midway

between counted yesterdays and uncounted tomorrows.


I don’t know if any breath bent to word can truly be true


But I do know the moments most pure are laid midway

between a breath drawn ...and a sigh released.


I don’t know if one should whisper aloud just how passionate the kiss


But I do know that given the chance I would linger midway

between your longest …and your sweetest.


I don’t know how far exactly from "here"... to "there",


But I do know that "midway" is charted somewhere-

between the setting of sails and the lifting of anchors.




I won't pretend... I don’t know all the bright and shinning paths to heaven.

But I do know that when I follow you -


..."heaven" is found on a wing and a prayer, midway

-between a divided cloud, and a last sacred light of day.







Revised August 29, 2004 / 2nd revision August 1, 2007 "/3rd (smile) February 18th, 2014" ** ©

* dedicated to the "soul mates", deep within us all....

笹の葉 さらさら

北風に ゆれる

さらさら ゆれる

いつまでも 光あふれ

心を照らす あたたかく

今 幸せと 人に言える

心地よき 笹の流れ

風よ とまるな。

笹よ とまるな。

その葉を いつまでも

輝かせ。 そは僕のしあわせ。

笹の葉 さらさら

さらさら ゆれる。

Floating in the shallows my friend Amy fished them out with a stick. The same poem on both leaves.

She wrote about them and about book leaves on her blog

A poem begins with a lump in the throat. ~Robert Frost


Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky, we fell them down and turn them into paper, that we may record our emptiness.

~Kahlil Gibran


photo © Jennifer Esperanza

















Ma mère est la mer.







To the One Who Wrote on the Walls


I won’t write within these walls

Ever again; or speak either

These words stifled by pasts

But so you know

I saw the green and smiled

Knowing it would come off

A few years later

The yellow went unnoticed

Until the inspection


Maybe you were wiser

And by then

It was too late


:copyright:Christine A Evans 7.7.17



I really appreciate your comments and faves. I'm not a hoarder of contacts, but enjoy real-life, honest people. You are much more likely to get my comments and faves in return if you fit the latter description. Just sayin. :oD


If you like b/w photography and/or poetry check out my page at:</a


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