Quotes about Photo, page 5
A Story of Two Soldiers
A story of a soldier, with a heart
Who came upon a dead Japanese soldier
With a letter sticking out his pocket, in the war
This soldier took the letter, obviously
The important treasure of the dead one.
He framed it and stored it;
Another man's most prized possessions,
Of a child's colored picture, and a baby's photo.
Years later, and someone notices
The framed paper, and suggests
Trying to track down the original family
And though it seems impossible:
The impossible is accomplished,
Through another soldier's care, though he was
A stranger to the poor dead soldier
He must have felt their close brotherhood,
As two soldiers engaged in a difficult war.
And there is a woman now,
[...] Read more
poem by Patti Masterman
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Im Here, Can You Hear Me, I Made It! (:
Hey there, my name is Sheniqua Lowery. I go to Henry Foss high school, I am currently 18yrs of age, and I was born August,06,1990 in Seattle Washington at Harborview hospital at 6: 00am. I’ve been to several schools in Washington State in my early years. I love school, I try my best at the school work that is given to me.
When I was a little girl I wanted to be a lot of things as a grown up. I thought of being a horse trainer, singer, dancer, writer, author, nurse, game maker. But my dream goal is to be a photographer because it inspires me a lot in what you can find in a photo. Not only is it a picture, it tells a lot about the person or object that’s in the photo.
I want to attend Cornish College of the Arts. I have been interest in the college since I wanted to become a singer. I haven’t been on a tour to see the campus.
I am looking forward to getting good grades and a high GPA so it can be possible for me to attend the four year college in Seattle, WA. My GPA is close to a 4.0. I have been looking into some photography classes in my area in Tacoma, WA.
If I successfully graduate from Cornish with a major in photography, I would like to own my own photography business. I would also want to pursue managing my own photography website so my customers can check their prints online and make orders for which prints they want.
Thank you for reading and taking time out of your busy schedule to read it.
poem by Sheniqua Lowery
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Two Strangers
In 1958, I last saw someone
whom would disappear from my life
until December 2006.
Our meeting was not face to face,
but across the internet.
Three cheers for technology.
She recognised me from an old school photo
it was not until I saw the class photo
after she pointed out herself
that I did recognise who she was.
For countless years you see,
I thought of her under a different name
which why I did not recognise her straight away.
The New Year came and we talked
about how our lives in the intervening years.
She introduced me to a friend
whom did the same thing as me - write.
At first, I was confused
and within our correspondence,
my confusion did show.
[...] Read more
poem by David Harris
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What's Left Behind Of All Our Love
Translation of the song 'Que Reste-t-il De Nos Amours? '
by Charles Trenet
(I was introduced to this song by Walter Hyatt when we were writing together in Nashville. He performed it once on AUSTIN CITY LIMITS and dedicated it to his high school French teacher. I thought that was so cool! On a trip to Paris I worked on a translation so I could sing it first in French, then English. By the end of the first phrase I'm back at a sidewalk cafe in Paris, sipping espresso and soaking in ambience. I dedicate my translation to my college French professors, Waring McCrady, Jacqueline Schaefer and Scott Bates.)
What's left behind of all our love,
Of those good times, what stays with us,
A photograph, faded but true,
The days of our youth.
What's left behind of April days,
Of tender notes and secret ways,
A never ending memory
Which follows me.
Good times together,
Free as a breeze,
Stolen kisses, sweet reveries.
What's left behind of all of these
Tell me please.
[...] Read more
poem by Carol Elliott
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0412 Their World
It's a sepia photograph, taken, I'm guessing,
1900,1910? The whole of it is taken up by
a crowd on the move, passing the photographer,
who could be, say, clinging to a lamp-post, or on a balcony.
Going to? Leaving? Impossible to tell.
Who's rich? Who's poor? No clue.
What's it got to tell you about - life?
Why go on looking at it? No reason
except that you're human; they were human; and
today, you wish, with increasing intensity,
to connect. In some way. Somewhere at the back of
uncomfortable mind, maybe, lurks the thought that one fine day,
you'll be that anonymous one in that anonymous crowd,
forever recorded - dead on the page;
by the irony of history, photographed
when you were sure that you were alive forever...
There's one chap in the crowd looking at the camera;
as the artist, in some Renaissance adoration, and
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Two birds on a tree
Look at this old photograph..
some of these old photos look
more ancient than their, what,
hundred-and-twenty years;
as if the very air was different, then?
This one’s simply of
two birds in a tree:
one sits and watches;
the other eats the fruits..
this moment, frozen, framed, in time,
takes on the epic stature
of a metaphor, a myth:
what of the previous second
in our passing time? What
of the next second?
Where have those birds come from,
where may they go next?
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Virgin Ground
He was the neighbor boy
and I, the city girl
banished to the countryside
to the grandparents,
to learn hard work
on the dairy-farm.
The rumbling train after the long flight,
jumbled my brain;
everything outside that train window
bumped along;
seemed jumbled isolated,
alien; and I felt alone.
I sat next to an older woman
who without looking whispered
see the pretty cow?
Her grandchild came
from the bathroom late—
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Passing Into A Sweeter Solitude As It Gets Older
Passing into a sweeter solitude as it gets older
the sunset takes one long last look over its shoulder
like the darkening tree line on a wavelength of hills
back at the valley that it's just lived its way through
following its mindstream like a pictographic musical motif
through an ordeal of blessings that maimed my ability to believe
in any cave painting that says it's a found religion.
It isn't any harder to reverence the stars in a parking lot
than it is in the woods. They can burn inside me
like candles at a black mass, or righteous cherubim
with flaming swords like two nightwatchmen
on either side of the gate that exiles me
from the garden of my heart, and leaves me
with the cornerstone of my skull
to enshrine my homelessness in like an open door
without an entrance or an exit; either way
I've never been the poster boy of anyone's morality play.
One Perseid, my meteor shower on a Saturday night
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
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Met Pet Goat While Twin Towers Burn
"9/11 justified
invasion Afghanistan?
really Taliban
zero hijackers
zero links
to al-Qaeda?
at the time
hijackers were Arab?
not Afghani?
President George W. Bush
failed nation America
ordered total no shot down"
9: 03 a.m. Bush no action partakes
in a meaningless primary publicity
photo-op ignoring responsibility
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Neighborhood
Heres a photo Ive been looking for
Its a picture of thee boy next door
And I loved him more than words could say
Never knew it til he moved away
Faded pictures in my scrapbook
Just thought Id take one more look
And recall when we were all
In the neighborhood
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Heres a photo of the neighborhood
Heres the corner where we stood
Heres a snapshot of dads old car
Never got us very far
Faded pictures in my scrapbook
Just thought Id take one more look
And recall when we were all
In the neighborhood
And all those friends
Where did they go, I dont know
All those friends we used to know
[...] Read more
song performed by Vonda Shepard
Added by Lucian Velea
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