Category : Poetry
Recently, I had been waiting for some surgery. True, it is not the one thing one usually waits for and although not fatal it does mean going to a hospital and getting mildly cut open. Not 1960’s style where they would cut you like a roast. No, in fact quite the opposite. Very minor. In at 7:30am and out by noon. Is it serious? Somewhat.
Either way, since it is still a bit stressful, I found myself taking a long stroll by my hood’s parks. You know, to think, relax and get my mind off needles and doctors. I took my camera and simply try to let nature speak to me. Since it is still quite cold outside, it really didn’t tell me much except perhaps to get my ass indoors.
However before that desire got to strong, i decided to externalize the zen vibe I was trying to achieve internally. So I walked to the creek at the bottom of the park and simply sat on one of the rocks and let a few minutes pass me by. Nothing happened, except for the streaming sound of the water from a nearby waterfall.
Then, deciding to take my zen in to my own hands, I fished a rock from the cold creek and tossed it as far as I could without tripping. I snapped this shot right before it hit the water. Yes, it reminded me of what I was trying to achieve.
A few days later, I am writing this as I am on painkillers. “Ouch.” Damn… they haven’t kicked in yet.
Photo was taken, with a Nikon D700, 50mm @ 1.8f
While travelling in the North of Italy, one of the key cities to visit was of course, Florence. The old town of the city, like most ‘old towns’ seemed to cater to tourists but with a twist. Although Firenze was guilty of the same, it was not like other cities, where their core is utterly shock-full of ‘tourist stores,’ selling nothing more than trinkets and cheap “I was in Roma” t-shirts.
Their core is full of classic architecture, churches and museums but meters away you have vibrant, if posh stores. Name brand stores, shoulder to shoulder to cafe’s, pubs, 1950’s inspired cafes. All while people go to the nearby grocery store along with church goers, hardly a tourist store to be found. This is a neighborhood, an actual functioning part of the city, not just a tourist trap. Like say, Niagara Falls.
The city is full of beauty, of history, a single visit does not do it justice.
This photograph was taken from the Piazza Michelangelo, atop a hill which overlooks the city. Photos from his viewpoint abound however, I specifically waited until sunset to make my way (on foot, no less, for that extra added touch of adventure) here, in order to catch something a little more mundane than this gorgeous city during midday. 🙂
Capture was taken with a D700, ISO 200Nikon 17-50, 35mm (for focus) @ f/4.0 Tripod
Have to admit, have been quite busy with side projects in the last 2 months! So I will just jump into it and without any further ado, I would like to share with the world my entire poetry collection!
‘You wrote poetry?!’ You may ask. Yes, indeed, I did. For many years before I switched over to writing, and painting, and photography. Quite funny actually.
From over 64 or so I wrote that I thought were good enough to share over the years, 22 have been lost to time and although I am quite sadden by this, I am prompted to put them out there. Of course I do not think to ever make a cent out of doing this. However, one never knows, perhaps someone who goes through them might feel a sense of comradeship as I would like to think that over time we all come to realize we all carry a bit of the same artistic energy inside all of us. It is just a matter of doing it.
Named after an island seen in a dream over 16 years ago, here you have a collection of 41 poems written over three quite distinct & colourful life epochs. The ‘Pink,’ ‘Blue’ and ‘English’ periods encompassed over 16 years of experience and both display a changing and (hopefully) growing perspective of a teenager who grew to man who was curious about what he could do through the medium of Poetry.
Share my journey as I once mostly saw the the world from a romantic, candle-lit prism, to now, perhaps a more cynical, wared soul. Lanthos: A Poetry Collection
