metaphor (Remove filter)
Photographs
in the room full of camera’s
unexposed photographs turn,
they do not stay still- how they breathe
to blur the printout- this memory,
you could not memorise- make new,
find another clear and clear your
mania from here, your camera,
stop pondering and pausing
for a better shot, searching
for the glare that will not give,
you cannot paste a glowing prism
to stick your...
Tuesday 5th May 2020 9:45 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
1 hour ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
4 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
5 hours ago
John F Keane on A Cut Above
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
7 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
11 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
13 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
14 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
14 hours ago