Showing posts with label verse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label verse. Show all posts

Sunday, September 2

Summer Brideg

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"What''ll it be when I grow up?"
The boy wondered as he hugged to the bridge.
"What's over there waiting?" he thought.
"What's on that side of the life's oddly shaped ridge?"

Did he want to go, he wondered?
Did he need to leave this summer place?
"Can't I stay here feeling a while?
Can't I just hold onto this glowing-soft space?"

Summer sprays its indelible inks
Upon memories of the moments we clung
To our first sense of the coming span of time
and the soft-warm moment of feeling so young.



Thursday, May 10

Aura °14: Narrative

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Photographic art is a
Perpetually running
Narrative machinery.

The Aura Series.... °14: Narrative


"There is no reality...
Only perception." - _Dr. Phil_

Face paint guy... Race Against Racism: Lancaster, Pa
Canon 7D: Canon EF 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM Lens, PS4: Topaz 5, OnOne, PerfectEffects 3, AlienSkin: Exposure 4. Custom motion filters, custom brushes.

Friday, March 2

Burst Of Swagger

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Escape? Lemme tell ya’…
That’s what you paid for…

Trample the detonator to throttle
A screeching stench of tearing rubber…
Neck-snapping…
Fantasy rush.

Each one of these babies came
With a full charge of swagger.

Say every girl didn’t swoon
At this rocketing past…

Hell…
You believed it…
And perception… that’s a
Big-assed part of truth.
Right?

Were you mistaken?
Like, you gotta’ know,
If you don’t make mistakes…
You ain’t making nothin’.

After that reckless feeling that came with each of these cars… The guy-fantasy of pulling on a super-hero costume that made little-pimply you invisible inside it’s sleek exoskeleton. Every fourteen year old boy’s cloak of seduction. Within this beast you were the rocker who became a movie star with an explosive ball of light beneath your foot. Or at least you figured you’d be all of that if somehow.. you could only grow up to buy one.

Canon 40D, Table top art, PS4: custom filters, AlienSkin: SnapArt3: Water Color, Alien Skin Bokeh2: Custom settings, Exposure4 – custom effects.

Sunday, November 20

It's Beginning To Look A Lot...

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Soon the bells will start
But the wonder-filled sight that will spring
Is the glow that will quietly ring
Deep within your heart.

Sometimes they cloy… but we can’t help it because… Darn… we clutch at hooks to which we can hang an order, a map, an understanding…. a life. Here’s my moose-ical hook.

I found this little orphaned-guy on the shelf at a Goodwill shop years ago. He was tattered... stained here and there... but his grin was so optimistic. Look at him, and like a switch, you smile, right? Someone had breathed that into this ball of wrapped stuffing. I wonder where he is today. Wherever, his aura's here... and there with you, right? Okay, it's corny but still... still... Magical, don't you think?

Canon 7D, PS4: AlienSkin: Bokeh 2, SnapArt3: Watercolor, Custom textures & brushes.

Monday, April 25

The Line's End

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She still stands there waiting
A whistle or smoke,
She still stands there waiting
Her lines thronged with folk.

But her tracks now are rusting
With weeds grown to choke
Off the chance to leave searching
For dreams that aren’t broke.
*
New Columbia, PA
Canon 40D/Canon EF-S 10-22mm (f3.5-4.5): PS4/Topaz, AlienSkin:SnapArt2, Watercolor, Custom brushes/textures (Thanks, Distressed Jewel)

Sunday, April 3

MoonStruck


(Click on image)

And when
He did
Music
She
Glowed.

Susquehanna Tree, Columbia, PA
Canon 40D: PS4 Topaz, AlienSkin: SnapArt, Colored Pencil – Custom brushes/textures/filters

Saturday, January 17

Arno

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It’s just a river
Filled with river-things
Tossed in every morning
By daybreak…
Ancient memories
That float.



Florence, Italy

Wednesday, January 30

Colored Shadows

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How much of nighttime’s life
Is arranged by cities
To happen in public
And lit to be not only
Felt, scented, and heard
But seen in color?

Sealed inside by night and winter
Suburban people
See little beyond
The inside’s reflections
On their windows
After sunset.

In New York City
At night outside
You squint.

***
GEEK STUFF: Canon EOS 20D, 1:22 AM: Lens 10-22mm, Focal Length: 16mm, Exp 1/80@f/3.5, ISO 800, Metering Mode: Pattern, Exposure bias -0.67, Camera RAW

Again remember that I do not work with a tripod. Too cumbersome for me. Another reason I prefer wide glass. To each his own, eh?

Sunday, January 27

Her Cup

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Unless she moved
He’d fill it soon
In the midday
Glow that
Held her
Still

Wednesday, January 23

BlotchBox

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An acne
On the face of
Ancient wisdom
Pop-media erupts

Ruinous rumor
Toss-away trends
Contentious conjecture

Speckling truth with
Goo fatted bumps of
Gripe

Wednesday, January 9

Stairway To

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You'll find this stone structure in the garden behind a home that's been dug free of Vesuvius's wrath. It sits on a grassy island covered by a canopied strip of grass and vegetation that's about 40' long between two channels that are each about a foot deep (marble lined).

At one end up to the left there may have been a small waterfall filling the channels which ran down the length to flow into a fish pond at the right end. This toy marble structure of steps and patios sits halfway between the pond and the waterfall and the steps in the foreground apparently led down right into the water.

How big was it?

Take a look at the dead leaves on either side of the steps. They are not from some mutant giant tree, but normal oak leaves. I imagine children sat on the stones in the foreground, their feet in the water and played with soldiers or dolls on the steps probably loading them into toy boats which would be cast adrift to find their way into the fish pond. It mimics the action toy trains of today. Kids could start their boats on either side of this thing (the steps on the other side of this structure were identical, also leading into the water) or maybe farther up by the waterfall, and watch them flow and sail on the current down to the pond. Maybe they'd race them in the separate canals. They probably had toy furniture that sat on the patios, perhaps this was a wonderful outdoor dollhouse or boy's fort (accounting for some of the scrapes on the decks).

I'm guessing the structure's at least a couple of millennia old. A backyard play set on a lush garden strip under a canopy for the kids behind a warm, seaside mansion under an endless summer sky. You can sense the ghosts of the children who, thanks to Vesuvius, never became adults. Well, I could... kinda... especially in that light. And this garden strip was surrounded first with a grape-trellised patio and beyond that a tiny orchard filled with fruit trees.

It looked so new, as if made for children just yesterday... but it was a long time till that yesterday, huh?

There's a poem here, I wish someone would write it.

SOMEONE HAS...

Incase you missed this in the comments below, Michael McMurma created...

Blogger mcmurma said...

The stone here speaks in whispers
and echoes, full of laughter
of the waters revealing glances
and softened reflections
on the smiles of a hundred children
splashing by.

Drinking water from a common cup
we shared a bread
with the taste of honey
and strolled together
towards the twilight, dancing
in the company of fireflies.

No, they were not her children
or mine
but their smiles are ours forever.

Friday, January 4

Rome Guy


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Designed to catch
Girls eyes like
Jump Street Johnny
He hopes in
His coolness that
He is hot
Enough...

Tuesday, January 1

Door Girl

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The bar's door
Opens to the street
Where she sits
All day
Exposed.

Why?

****

Critics have written to me that the pole in that image above distracts them. Hmmmm.... I envisioned this composition from the moment I exposed the frame as a square. But the square format is so impersonally angular that it seemed to me the pole broke the plane into two softer areas that then balanced themselves in terms of dynamic weight. Yet, what I want to communicate here is best described in the words I've placed next to the picture above. So how about I try it without the pole? Does this re-worked image better communicate my questioning idea to you?

Tuesday, December 25

Sympathy Panes

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Through the windows children point.
Through the panes their pains
Of denied sugary cremés
The reflections of a season so near
So far... behind glass.