ISO, Aperture, Shutterspeed

to create a shallow depth of field

to achieve bokeh, to learn about balance

ISO, aperture and shutter speed. Trap light, Trap

time, Trap moment. Trap a look. Trap a story

Trap a history.

and trap it right.

 

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Throw words into the air

Like glitter-dust confetti, and watch

-watch, how they fall onto the ground in an explosion of ideas

a kerfuffle of meaning. Watch, watch

how its alphabetic matter disintegrates and separates like

form from dust or dust in wind. Or wind.

Like wind, it breaks, it cannot be caught, it cannot be still.

It fades beneath more words beneath time beneath travel and

experiences. It fades until there is nothing left but a memory, then

a memory of a memory and then -something- so distant and so brittle that

even the act of trying to grasp it will destroy it, will destroy it smithereens.

So be careless and careful all at once. Because words need to spill out of and over themselves to become something healthy. Something real.

Like the perseids shower shimmer above us now we are only fleeting,

so let words fly with motivation, until they find their meaning,

let them stretch unframed into this universe, adorned with a comet-chaos-consciousness

where they can breathe.

 

Restless Air

anger electric energy dancing from the wisps of

forgotten integrity left out humanity careless ego and

lowered self esteem. Taken from the place where steps stood

on cracked concrete and stumble-walked and mumble-talked a mist

layer of existence minus the clarity. Taken from a place where fog hung heavy

like the eyelids over our eyes that irritate, with lashes stuck in grit and the inability

to contemplate before we speak. The inability to blink. We stare, casually unaware that we are hurting until we hurt another in the tone of our voice and the choice of our words.

We walk, carelessly and with a bitter energy that tells the other to ‘watch where you are going’ and forgets, all at once, where we are coming from.

We talk, louder than is necessary, hoping that the words we speak so clearly still those quiet whispers in our heart,

-but if we were to listen to that thuddud pulse that teller of the soul that all-for-you crown and captain of our whole

-it would tell us to follow those footsteps which our hearts have etched. To follow with courage and that being tired, doesn’t necessarily mean rest.

So onward, onward with humility and an apology to the anger I have felt in these few days. Onward with an opening of heart and a stilling of mind, emotions were just passing clouds but beyond that I understand that the sky is me.

Fly

Don’t ‘learn’ to fly,

Don’t ‘try’

just hop and hop and jump and leap and

bound until you fly.

When you’ve been walking all your life

heals scraping tarmac growing blisters

on your toes and growing dullness in your mind and

a heart slowly turning from flesh to stone until you

stop.

Don’t walk today, don’t struggle, don’t scrape your feet slowly

nearing that distant pindrop goal. Don’t give in to the tedious and struggle that is the journey. Don’t let it be the journey.

No, -know that you are already there.

That journey: it is here! you are where you need to be and where you

need to be is -you-

so be, and breath, and Fly.

 

Dreams of fried egg

over nasi goreng

and the crunch of fresh crushed

ice lemon juice (we won’t call it lemonade)

And the dead weight of dates make the palm bend

forward

as neon parakeets collect their sweet treasures and

leave the gems behind to grow. And

the shrieks of a hungry child- who might just

be tired-don’t you know? and a switch to their bright smile,

see the eyes of an opening mind and the stretch

of a waking soul and the wonder and surprise

as their world unfolds

watch this pitter patter of chitter chatter

over chai

not so

freshly pressed,
burning ankle and rental
stress
a weight falling as if
gravity was growing
a plane ticket crawling
closer to cover the millimetre
difference
time is broken it
tells of yesterday and tomorrow
all at once in a slur of words
forgets the now as it
tries to web its way around
a whole life to contain it but
look- there are bits always falling
out the net is ever breaking
-you should have made it stronger
when it was in the making!
now its done and the ocean has won
so just let it all go and embrace
something more eternal.

because

everybody wants to be
inside your eyes; locked with images too cold
to see the colours they emit, instead an
ice-cold outstead and the echoes of a melody,
because truth is too heavy for any one person to hold,
so we carry it together, collectively and bold
because pain is the same in any language new or old
because cold was a state and the mind will soon be sold
because moments only matter in the moments that they matter and
an instant later shatter in a million pieces on a platter
because
I don’t want to finish the rest of this poem.
because you expect it.