An Explanation / Une explication

Why am I naked in so many of my photographs? Am I an exhibitionist? No, not at all. This is me, and this is the way I live. I am a naturist, and my house, my sunroom, and my backyard, which is complete with privacy forest, are my little naturist empire. I don't have to go anywhere else. I live in Florida, where the temperature does not require clothes. This is how I'm the healthiest and the happiest. That's it; end of story.

Pourquoi suis-je nu dans un si grand nombre de mes photographies? Suis-je un exhibitionniste? Non, pas du tout. C'est moi et c'est comme ça que je vis. Je suis naturiste et ma maison, ma véranda et mon jardin, qui comprend une mini-forêt pour l'intimité, constituent mon petit empire naturiste. Je ne dois aller nulle part ailleurs. J'habite en Floride, où la température ne nécessite pas de vêtements. C'est comme ça que je suis le plus en santé et le plus heureux. C'est tout; fin de l'histoire.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

67,000 Visits, and a Dozen Roses

As I write this, we are on the cusp of 67,000 visits to this poetry blog. The strange title of this blog entry is a reference to Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses, a country song from the 1980s, made popular by singer Kathy Mattea. Roses are a symbolic way to show one's appreciation, and that's just what I want to do at this time.

This poetry blog has been in existence for a little less than three years, and I would call it a resounding success. We have had visitors from most countries of the world, and from every continent except Antartica. Maybe we'll get that one, too.

So what I really want to say right now is "thank you." Also merci, gracias, todah, dankon, etc. You have made the blog the success that it is.

Wadó. ꮹꮩ.

Text © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler. Photo credit: Fergus McCarthy, Midleton, Ireland.

Juxtaposition

The juxtaposition
of human and machine
gives rise to a harsh reality,
one full of contrasts
and extremes.
Will there be room
for justice and mercy?
Will there be room
for the knowing
of the heart?

La juxtaposition
de l'homme et de la machine
donne lieu à une dure réalité,
une plein de contrastes
et des extrêmes.
Y aura-t-il de la place
pour la justice et la miséricorde?
Y aura-t-il de la place
pour le savoir
du coeur?

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

Censorship Is Futile / La censure est futile.

"The only defense against bad books is good books." --John Milton

The only defense against bad photos is good photos. --Me.



"La seule défense contre les mauvais livres, ce sont les bons livres." --John Milton

La seule défense contre les mauvaises photos est de bonnes photos. --Moi.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

He Wears the Uniform of Eden / Il porte l'uniforme d'Eden

He wears the uniform of Eden
before its fall,
that is to say,
nothing at all.
He lives like this
both day and night:
His innocence is Carpocratian,
and Nature, his delight.

Il porte l'uniforme d'Eden
avant sa chute,
c'est-à-dire,
rien du tout.
Il vit comme ça
jour et nuit:
Son innocence est carpocrate,
et la nature, son ravissement.

Which version of the photograph do you prefer? / Quelle version de la photo préférez-vous?


Text and images © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

He Strides Out of Night / Il sort de la nuit

He strides out of night,
and into day:
all black and white,
and nothing of gray.
He carries a light
to guide his way.

The Hermit IX

Il sort de la nuit,
et entre en jour:
tout noir et blanc,
et rien de gris.
Il porte une lumière
pour guider son chemin.

L'ermite IX

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

I Looked at the Stars / J'ai regardé les étoiles

I looked at the stars
while my dog took a pee.
Cassiopeia is low,
but so are we.
I stood naked in the warm, Gulf breeze,
Polaris is beyond the trees.
A moth flew at my ear,
we're here,
we're here.

J'ai regardé les étoiles
pendant que mon chien a fait pipi.
Cassiopée est basse,
mais nous aussi.
Je me tenais nu dans la chaude brise du golfe,
Polaris est au-delà des arbres.
Un papillon vola à mon oreille,
nous sommes là
nous sommes là.

Text © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.