The Poetry Marathon

Prompt 6 – image of Photographer

Prompt 6 – Image

 

Photographer

 

Photography is a great hobby to have

Hours will pass before you even know it

Oh, especially In the golden hours

Try to replicate what the naked eye sees

Oh, take more than one shot of everything

Grin when you check the photos

Rain can be dangerous for the lens

Ask if you’re not sure on anything

Photographers will almost help

Have fun or it’ll put you off

Each photo you take has purpose

Record with your lens and the naked eye

 

 

Now read from the bottom up,

24 Hour Marathon Hour 6: A Tribute to A. A. Milne “The Process”

When I was ten
I was well beyond the pen
but I still tended to rattle
and the conflict was quite a battle

When I was twenty
I drank my beer aplenty
but still got through college
but, with a minimum of knowledge

When I was thirty
I met a girl who was purty
married with kids
a New Year’s eve banging lids

When I was forty
I thought I was rather sporty
wearing snazzy jackets
and ties that made a racket

When I was fifty
I was still pretty nifty
grey hair, quite dignified
but a belly growing wide

When I was sixty
I was somewhat betwixty
was I young or old
I was never told

Now that I’m seventy
I am becoming benty
arthritic pain
and worse in the rain

Miracle (hour 6)

Miracle,

a word we speak, our hearts

never included, our minds

never believed, our tongue

never relieved.

Miracle,

a question of faith, our

reasoning never comprehends.

The Many Faces of No One

Once upon a time I was a coyote,

racing careless along the chaparral,

howling true and strong with my pack.

And then the bond was severed

and the coyote died.

 

Once upon a time I was a hawk,

carving rainshine out of thunderstorms,

pushed ever upward by the draft of my rage.

And then the storms broke away,

but so did the hawk.

 

Once upon a time I was a pigeon,

swinging happy on a golden perch, beloved,

praised for my function and potential.

And then the practicality faded,

and now the pigeon has as well.

 

Once upon a time I might have been myself,

but I’d not be able to tell you when.

 

(Hour 6)

Where the Earth Ends

“Where the Earth Ends”

 

who am I to say

if the the earth is flat

~ or not, for

 

I’ve only seen the sandy

shores, with its white foamy edges

 

I’ve not been beyond 

that blue horizon

 

I’ve found rocky ledges

where the ocean rages against the coast

 

I’ve not been beyond

those jagged cliffs

 

when you’ve not been

beyond the edges

 

do we really know 

if it has an end

 

As Ought To Be….

Like one in a dark cell having a peep at the faraway dawning of another day,

I see the world just as it ought to be.

Straight as our dealings with each other,no intellectual robbery in the guise of colonialism.
Every snail moving at its pace towards civilisation.

Straight as with a stray bullet, where all actions are for common good and not whats to be gained in return.
A world guided by humanistic feelings, not one tied together with the bandage of “What goes around come around.”

David Byrne Street

I say I live on David Byrne Street.
With its village academy at one end and
Firehouse 19 on the other, it reminds me of Byrne pontificating on the lives of people
in ‘Flyoverville’ in “The Big Country” from More Songs About Buildings and Food.
Is the presence of a World Market (does Byrne shop there? Costco seems more likely his style.)
just around the corner scarily coincidental?
Cue Rod Serling?
Byrne’s ironic refrain, “I wouldn’t live there if you paid me,”
sends a smile to my face as I walk home, passing
Westporters out Westporting.
Who am I to judge when, eons ago, I was one of them.
On nearby, unnamed streets the sirens shrill.

 

 

 

 

 

Odd couples

I watch youtube videos

of animals as

prayers of hope and

possibility

We seem lost

in our self-absorbtion

and yet

yearn to connect

with the world of living beings

magpie dog

cat tiger

dog turkey

elephants lion

orangutang dog

cat dog

We need to challenge

our assumptions

of the world

 

Hour 6: The Earth is Flat

Version 1:

The earth is actually flat

And over the edge you see people that are happy.

 

Version 2:

The earth is actually flat.

Hear me out, I can prove it.

All evidence suggests that

Life is but a figment of our imagination

Where each of us creates our own reality –

Meaning the earth is flat.

Also the sky is green but never purple

And water is a solid through which everything can pass.

Fish are actually flying creatures and birds

Walk on air with their feathery legs

Growing out of their shoulders instead of their bums.

Trees can talk but humans are unable to think on their own,

Their ideas download from invisible spores sent from galaxies

Far, far away where existence is only an option.

All of our intrusive thoughts are real

And our dreams are written by little creatures living in our hair

Making us miserable to the point that we must

Create an illusion of reality that certainly is not real.

How else can someone even fathom to imagine

That earth is in the shape of a ball?

Insanity.

The perfect photograph

He stands in a field of flowers
Nestled in the scent of wild peonies
Gazing off into the distance
Searching for the perfect composition
Creating with his mind’s eye
a frame by frame image for the perfect photograph