once, in a dream…

once, in a dream — Nena Black

once, in a dream

she searched for him

on sacred sands

out of the sea, like a god

he appeared

she touched his face

he kissed her soul

their fingertips traced shadows that fell

on lips



while waning sky light

glimmered in wanting eyes

and sunrise came

too soon

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words / image © 2017 Nena Black


Nature’s Poetry

see worthy — Nena Black

sometimes i have no words
either by sorrow
or sheer awe
while nature speaks an ocean
a sky, the clouds
her poetry is enough

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words / image © 2017 Nena Black

A Slice of Art

Food as a photographic subject is somewhat new territory for me. However, from an artistic standpoint, I like highlighting the beauty in everyday objects—juxtaposing utilitarian purpose with artistic vantage. When I cut into this orange (one of the most beautiful I have seen; California does have its delicious fruit), the aesthetic of it captured me right away. It reminded me that art is just as much mindful observation and appreciation of the ordinary, and there need not be an inherent formality about it. 

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words / image montage © 2017 Nena Black


i persist — Nena Black

Though you dig at me, even beneath my roots, I persist. 

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This is a determined rosebush. The owner (who does not want the duty of tending to it) has had this rosebush dug up several times, even under the roots. Yet, it persists; it continues to regrow itself each time. This formidable little rosebush is a testament to perseverance and determination. Nature often finds a way of overcoming such odds—she is my goto metaphor for survival.

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words / image © 2017 Nena Black

The beauty of forgotten things…

There is a special place within the soul for the beauty of forgotten things… where compassion remains, mercy does not wane, and sentiment lingers between nostalgia and love.

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These images arose out of my imagination, upon seeing a dried-up potted plant sitting on a neighbor’s porch—mournfully dead after many months of neglect. Unfortunately, the homeowner had no idea as to the species of plant; it was there when she bought the house, over a year prior, and she’d had no interest in tending to it.

Nevertheless, this unkept thing beckoned for attention, even in its forlorn state. There was something  fetching in the way the light fell on its dried blossoms and brittle stems—contrasted by the backdrop of a newly painted porch and ornate iron railing. Bleak condition notwithstanding, I found the plant beautiful, even graceful, in a sad, poignant kind of way. Continue reading “The beauty of forgotten things…”


dandelion — Nena Black

pondering the ramifications
of forbidden lust
she walked barefoot
in the cool damp grass
letting herself feel the
invigoration in her toes
as she blew on a red seeded
she did not mind at all in which
direction the tender seeds flew
for the wind was much wiser than
she had ever been
and her wishes were kissed
by the sun


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words / image © 2017 Nena Black


disappearing — Nena Black

long walks to nowhere
the past becomes a prologue

words / image © 2017 Nena Black

Nostalgia, on tap

old rasputin stout
nostalgia, on tap — Nena Black

My favorite dark beer: Old Rasputin Imperial Stout, served perfectly — on the cool side of tepid and on tap — a beautiful thing to behold, a bewitching thing to consume. It has a rich, edgy, aromatic taste (reminiscent of a much stronger libation like whiskey; in fact, for a beer, it offers quite a kick). For some, food has a particularly strong nostalgia. I discovered this stout years ago during a time in my life when, although unemployed, I felt unprecedented strength and freedom. Continue reading “Nostalgia, on tap”

A single red rose…

a single red rose — Nena Black

Few flowers share the beauty and sensuality of a single, perfect red rose.


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words / image © 2017 Nena Black

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