aglorioustrainwreck

~ under the burnside bridge ~

photos taken at burnside skatepark ~ under the burnside bridge in portland, oregon, u.s.a.

all photos © by a.k.o. ~ february 2015

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accidental as can be ~ i saw nothing through the viewfinder since the sun was too bright..love the result! 

shadows abound

shadows abound

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~ cement wave ~

~ accros the street ~

~ accros the street ~

~ jesus stays here ~

~ jesus stays here ~

..and then she became a butterfly… a self~propelled~flower…

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first,
i fell in love with your shadow
the way it meandered
yet always knew its way home
the way it followed me
intrigued by everything i did..

second,
i fell in love with your eyes
the way they peered into me
undressed me
unwrapped a piece of my heart
yet kept it safe behind the blue….

or maybe it was third,
when i fell in love with your whisper
the way you said my name like a secret
the sound that coiled around and then around your lips
was like tiny butterflies
trapped and circling for days on end
finally set free…

© aneata kristine obrien ~ 2.16.15

angel~bird~brokenwing

“…angel with a broken wing taking lessons from a baby bird on how to fly. again….”

angel~bird~brokenwing

angel~bird~brokenwing

bird

bird

…the king of california…

 

my man, dave.
a few hearts

c/r ~~ ako 2014

c/r ~~ ako 2014

davealvin

a new day…

velocity girl 1982/2015 into a new day....

velocity girl
1982/2015
into a new day….

looking back we move forward
into a new day
headed to the pacific northwest
to a shack by the train tracks
taking only what matters
into a new life

a new day

delivering mail
i hope there will be lots of love letters
from one to another
for me to deliver
i will know which ones are true
i can advise if a train~wreck is looming

while leaving behind the poison

the lies

he half~truths

the deception

it has taken it’s toll
outlived whatever it needed to teach me

looking back we move forward..
velocity girl flies
leaving the lil birds behind.

“hobo’s place” …. englewood, colorado

dreary day.

(photos c/r ~ ako 2/2015)

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more photos ~ 2011 – 2014 by ako

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the known words ~ denver, colorado

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love or a restless rodeo ~ grants pass, oregon

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some kind of Awe ~ aurora, colorado

 

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another day at the beach ~ san francisco, california

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couch ~ hollywood, california

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just like real life ~ shanto, ethiopia

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a picture for the motorists ~ near sunset & alvarado, echo park, california

 

 

all photos copyright AKO.

photos by ako 2011~ 2014 (a very small sample)

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green ~ new mexico

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from a seed ~ aurora, colorado

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another sunday ~ las vegas, new mexico

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silverlake, california

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from a perfect day ~ somewhere in colorado

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dog. clouds ~along the platte river, colorado

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raku’s ~ claremont, california

all photos copyright AKO.

just awe. and ah. something to make me and you smile

Keeper of the Stars

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Any sense of the Imagination
could easily lead us to
an achingly beautiful oasis
a picture-perfect island
barely visable from the coast
shrouded in a blue
that is ever so much more
shimmering
relentlessly
in and out of view
a mirage
an open heart
an open hand
from which tiny stars
break free
right before our eyes
only to sail forth
and revel along the shore…..

(t h i s) . . . (w a y) . .

t h i s . . . w a y

 

mom

the pain resides here

a trajectory

straight-line-nose-dive

to the

heart

head

gut

like an unmarked car speeding out of control

tracks bent beyond recognition as the train approaches

til your head spins

(dizzy)

(scattered)

somedays you walk through the pain

sit and rest with it by the side of the road

confident

“it’s transitory” (they say)

“you won’t always feel”..

t h i s

w a y

you take a bath

take a walk

eat an ice cream cone

try to sleep

get up

make breakfast

scramble eggs

arrange blueberries on a blue plate

see a man about a car

an apartment

a haircut

buy a new pair of shoes

then do it all again tomorow

“it’s transitory” (they say)

“you won’t always feel”..

t h i s

w a y

you wake up

count stars long since faded

look for silver

find gold

try not to stare into the sun too long

your soul feels a million years old

bangs against your chest

you try to write about how it feels

the cats love you becasue the floor is littered with crumpled pages

words flow when you are driving

walking the dog

and a pen is not handy

so you seal them off

m e m o r i z e them

you know when you get home you can release it

let it go

but then the phone rings

the baby cries

the laundry is piled high in the corner

you have an appointment

an obligation

your to-do-list  just transfers from one day to the next

(and then)

when you least expect it

you rise slower than usual

wipe the mud off your shoes

comb the cobwebs out of your hair

dab the tears from the corners of your eyes

turn on the lights

turn off the lights

fill the car with gas

d r i v e

the circle you have been endlessly walking until you can draw it feehand

becomes a path

not too steep

not too rocky

….soft sand beneath your feet.

(my heart)

my heart

sometimes. at the end of the day or even first thing in the morning, i feel way too many things to keep in my heart. it feels like stones, bricks, the weight of the entire world rests here. deep inside. something ancient and heavy follows me. drags me from place to place. it is draining. oh so exhausting to carry this weight around. it makes me long for the days when i felt only the lightness of feathers, birds-blue and forest-green, a mystical-magical-YELLOW, sometimes variations of red. pink. even orange. butterfly wings. infinite patterns to get lost in. colours rule my world. rule and rue my heart it seems. and it always goes back to blue. the winter shades of blue are so light. they hide and my eyes strain to find them. transparent against the gray sky. un-inspiring, mostly. dull. the blue-black sky filled with stars calls me, but i am asleep at the hour they shine the brightest. so i miss the moment. and start over again. maybe today i will not wear my pajamas all day and long for my blankets. maybe i won’t drink gallons of milk. maybe i will figure out how to give some of this burden away….package up the pain and emptiness with ribbons and bows….fly a little bit….

penny candy

penny candy 2

random arcs of light

spark a milky way

a private constellation spirals

silvering celestial eyes

named stars

un-named stars

burning ever so gently against a sky undressed

into the cradle of the crescent moon

these stars

fall

graze

your hands

your heart

your eyes closed to the

ceaseless thunder that is your dream(s)

a pattern of verse imprints

adheres to an inky-blue

you repeat these words

over and over

learn them by heart

out trail the enchantment

an elixir (of sorts)

sits on the tallest shelf

you can never reach

but (always always) try

my inclination

(when things turn upside-down-inside-out-way too far out west)

is

to lay down beside you

in the wet evening grass

(and)

very quietly

without waking you

without staining this sacred ground

remove all the bits of penny candy from your hair……

stars

monday morning rail

 

12.3.12 waves

there is a distant roar in the early hours

you should see her face

soft in the shadow of constellations burning their way home

eyes wide like it’s christmas morning

(every day)

yesterdays tragedies

a distant call to arms

yesterdays weapons

gather dust in the corner

you blink the sleep from your eyes

rearrange the dreams

while she is rearranging the stars

just a touch more cerulean

add some more cream

two teaspoons of sugar today

and all the while the sun rises

birds circle the sea

wings span sand and rocks

beginning again

she has already traveled to Morocco

bathed in the Nile

shot ten photographs of the Red Sea

tamed a wild pony

wandered through a field of poppies

hand delivered sweet prayers to the boy on the border of hell

as you fall back into sleep

what if she can stop a train in it’s tracks

a freight train rounding a curve

70 miles per hour

no time to slow down now

engineer asleep up front

last nights party still raging in the back

hidden among the static

…….half way home…there by morning…

the rhythm of the rails lulls you deeper into the warmth of your bed

you miss the calm

before and after the storm

the sound of laughter and tears mixed with

only a hint of fear

that train releases a last breath of smoke

taking the long walk home

looking back

she marvels

as flattened copper pennies still glisten on the tracks……

 

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pink

a tangle of signs

etchings of whispered promises

flutter and brush against my lips

in the middle of winter

in the middle of the night

stranded on a street corner

we taste

bits of pink amid the blue

we stumble upon

traces of silver

prizes before breakfast

an open book in which to fall

with eyes closed

we listen

one breath at a time

one heartbeat slowed  to catch up

the magic returns

waits

anticipates

crawls forward on

wings made of honey and lace

our birds journey inward

seeking warmth

a tonic

or

a tincture

just enough

to venture out again…

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