Quotes about Photo, page 16
The money lender
An old boycotted photographer who stands in front of a Mall
And he thinks while seeing the huge car park.
I must send him a photograph the miser lent me some money a long time ago in high interest of buying this box camera.
Dear Mr.Shylock,
'This photo gives you a slight impression of my car factory's outer premises and why don't you tick your choice and send me back?
I would ship you the required vehicle in free of charge as a gratitude.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sibling Rivalry Little Sister Jealousy
Her mother said
she is easy
to upset lately
wont
take a photo
with Kayla...
Her father said
we were out late
they slept late
last night
you are busy
posing Kayla
then expect
Rachael to be an extra
in photos...
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Why Ist It That Way?
Artists who draw cartoons are cartoonists
Musicians who play bassoons, are bassoon-ists
Players of violins are violinists-flute players flutists
Then why aren’t drummers drum-ists?
Could the writer of Haiku be a Haiku-ist
Or the rider of a bike a bike-u-ist?
Why are linguists not language-ists
Or photographers photo-ists?
Who conjures these very English-isty rules list?
Most probably an English lingu-isty fool-ist
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Cain't remember their names anymore
November 6,2004
10: 38 P.M.
And 'Daniel must be the clouds in my eyes',
For the age of more we have less
Counting the tears just one by one,
By one, bye one, be gone
Where an old photo, my smiling father's youth
On my tabled desk, in his Army uniform.
I think of people, I can't remember their names
Anymore.
I think of places I need to be before
There is evermore.
The wind will turn cold
The wolf will run hungry.
[...] Read more
poem by Midnights Voice
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Death
Death whispered to me
warned me, informed me,
let me know I was mortal
and yet____
it seems, my life's a dream
and dreams, they come and go,
drift in and out,
morph into other realms.
Death touched me yesterday,
took you in its clutches,
whisked you away
to an afterworld
but your photo still smiles
your essence still glows
and I saw you in my dreams
so now I know,
[...] Read more
poem by Ruth Walters
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In My Head
In my head
voices speak,
Ingrid says,
each one suggesting
different things,
proposing I do this
or that, each voice
distinct from the other.
The Psychiatrist
pares his nails,
gazes at the photo
of his wife and kids,
the silver frame,
the wife with that stupid grin,
and the voice of Ingrid
grating on his ears,
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
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Family Outing
the old woman laughs
at the photograph of her
self
when she was 3
she waves a blur
that could be a flag
she is in pink
with a see-through pink umbrella
seahorses cavort
around its rim
she gnaws at the umbrella handle
teeth forcing their way through
(toothless now)
[...] Read more
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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In The Sperrin Mountains
A hawk hangs
like the cross
beam of a crucifix
above the only
farmyard for miles.
Across heather
the smell of turf
is borne by a
summer's breeze.
An old photo
of my father's father
holding reins
upon a load
of Sperrin turf
his bearded face
similar to my own.
And my father
[...] Read more
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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A prince wasn't born with a silver spoon
It's very hard to pronounce and the prince's name is Legerdemain.
His patchy wallet contains a picture of Madonna and full of rubbish.
He is not a cherub it seems.
The scars of his wrist a handiwork like tattoos of different handcuffs he wore.
His Pidgin English and the moisten heart
Does somebody could understand?
Then he will be surprised.
He is a pickpocket and one day he found his deceased mother's photo
In a stolen wallet and he said goodbye to his sorrowful career.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Not a Human
There you were in front of me
Perched on your chair like a queen
Mysterious behind dark shades
A perfect Mona Lisa smile
I would paint you if I could
Knowing it would be a lie
Even a photo would not capture
What I see in you and feel inside
Then there was that moment
When I was walking past you
And you lifted up your sunglasses
Revealing stunning aqua blue eyes
They were like lasers pointed at me
Then I knew you were not of this earth
Not a mere mortal, not a human like me
poem by Paul H Nelson
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