I went out in
the fog with my
new 35mm,
I struggled to get
a decent picture,
in the end,
I got one or two,
some rocks,
a bird flying
off some holy
monument,
two ends
of a broken
rail along
the promenade,
later on I had
a look at them,
then put all
three on my flickr
page,
funnily enough,
I got faved for
the holy one,
three times,
Father, son,
and Holy ghost,
I'm not religious
though,
not like that,
though most of
us have a sort
of ghost way of
believing
without truly
believing...
yet I still research
the truth as if it
were there somewhere,
looking for me,
through that lens
I stoop and bend,
trying to entertain
the idea that I can
record what
it is I truly see,
and what is it...
that stretches me
to the limitation,
that something quite
different will eventually
appear in my pictures...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmmm....an interesting write. Reminds me of a time when a best friend and I would go out to cemeteries at night and snap pics to see what we could capture. Thanks for bringing back a great memory!