A Black Cat In A Cellar At Midnight Poem by Tom Billsborough
A Black Cat In A Cellar At Midnight
A black cat
In a cellar at Midnight.
At first sight a failed photo
Swimming in a dish of hypo
With nowhere to go,
Sadly looking blank!
Yet we stuck it in an album
With that fancy title
Awarding it an undeserving fame.
One thinks of those celebrities
Who had their brief day
But now in memory decay.
Their names we have to guess
When their photos come and go
In the fleeting fame of a Game Show.
As Francois Villon asked...
Where are the snows of yesteryear?
In Time's corroding Albums,
Faded monuments to Fame.
OCCASIONAL FAILURES!
I had a darkroom for many years and was very good at it. Occasionally though, I would produce a photo that I would call polar bear eating marshmallows in a blizzard.
That is brilliant, Kelly! Loved going in the darkroom. That red light and all. And the slow appearance of an image. Maybe that's why I like Imagist verse. Useless as a photographer. A typical example was half my mother's head with a brick wall behind it. And that was one of the good ones! I remember the strips of film hung up on bulldog clips. Best room in the house for us kids. My brother actually learned something! He's a very good photographer. Mind you he's a professional Landscape painter, so maybe he had a head start there!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 12:18:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Tom I have started reaging your poem. I have already read afew. Your writing no doubr very much enjoyable.. A Black Cat In A Cellar At Midnight ... an interesting poem.. thanks for sharing....