Poetry

Sometimes when bringing an image onto my camera’s sensor I am also immersed in words and emotion. A friend said, “I love how you paint your thoughts into words.”

I’m thankful for his insight.

Sometimes words and images just belong together. A positioning of visual and emotional energy that feed off and energize one another. In my head the image spawns free verse poetry and sometimes haiku that sometimes makes sense, sometimes almost makes sense, and always gives the viewer/reader a peek into my soul. What's true? What's imagination? What's drama? What's celebration? Hmmm. Well, who knows. Have a read!

I'm working on a book, these are excerpts.

I Don’t Scream Anymore

I don’t scream anymore
With death just out the door.
I smile and sink deep inside
Mind seeking right, eyes open wide.

Burn the books, call for war
Make it tough for all to score
Let voter access freely slide
So your wagon is the only ride.

But know that deep inside
Somewhere is a rising tide
Of fairness, human to the core.
So, I don’t scream anymore.

Falling

Whales falling like autumn leaves in
A final dance of grace and power.
Floating. Drifting. Right then left.
But always lower, falling to the darkest darks
Raining life where none should be.

Days End

Distant sounds of night crashing into ending work.
The deep intake of a collective breath as keyboards click not
and scurried, harried, worried faces rush without connecting.

The sweet transition from someone to everyone
from nobleman to everyman blurs the things we’ve done.
No sharp line of change to guide us.
No quick ringing bell to warm us. But already…

Work’s beacon, like a siren, calls us
to the endless life rhythm that
will bring us back tomorrow.

I DON’T SCREAM ANYMORE