poetry-in-photography

2

this is where I used to wait
outside the door at thirty eight
to catch a glimpse
of a thing most rare

the sight of you floating
through the air
in your dress and evening coat
you would not walk
no
you would float

for this is where
you would retreat
where the floors knew the pleasure
of your feet

where the air was consecrated
with your scent
this was where I,
the unwashed went

where the walls were anointed
with the voice
that I came to love,
I had no choice

At thirty eight,
NOT thirty nine
this was the Cathedral
of You, the Divine

[Image of a plant sprouting from a layer of dead leaves. Its flowers are highlighted in purple.]

This layer of decay
Won’t stand in my way

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Beseeching

 

Prevalence of longing glances,

Under lashes,

Soul searching flashes.

Beseeching lighthouse pulses,

Urgency of the messages,

Always;

Missed by the beholder.


The agony of loving,

Without being loved.

Impossibility of joy,

Is the pain of the lonely heart.


Bittersweet -

As apart,

There is no beginning:

So no end.


- source - Lisa Lopresti (copyright)

STOPPED

Every day the same paths.
Same problems, repetition.
If, turn routine. We stopped in time.

~zd

PWS - Seriously Edited Friday

zdspOtted the other zdmOtiOn blog
zdspOtted a new look on the photo
zdspOtted experimental photography

it is part of the
human experience to feel pain
do not be afraid
open yourself to it

- evolving

A volte non hai il tempo di accorgertene, le cose capitano in pochi secondi. Tutto cambia. Sei vivo. Sei morto. E il mondo va avanti. Siamo sottili come carta.
—  Charles Bukowski
2

To each and everyone of you who stays despite everything, thank you for loving me, for taking me as I am. I will not make it this far without your faith and support. You are all a blessing.

Lukas W.