A poem for the next five days or so

I have decided to write a poem. I hope it lasts for five days at least. It may last a little bit longer. The poem is a free-flowing poem and adhere’s to no particular stanza, pentameter in any shape of form. I have written poetry, philosophy and how to media tips for a while so it should be ok. Here goes, let me put the poet into action and see what develops.

Here is a poem for five days or more, a place where were going assured,
in the knowledge that everything moves slowly,
as if you are walking in mud,
or running in Wellington’s and shotgun on the back like Elma Fudd,
looking for that crazy rabbit and Donald the duck,
running around not very fast,
because life dictates if we were born the right way,
and I splash and I splash in the puddles we meet,
and shuffle around like Elvis on the street,
Or Shaken Stevens on a broken down green door in the tip,
with a stone in the middle that acts as a sea sore,
jumping up and down,
stomping stones up of the floor,
look over there that looks like a river,
throw in a flat stone and see how many times that it bounces,
look at the dog and the way that he pounces,
I feel like lurch with a lead in hand,
and feel so or-quad wearing a watch and a band,
and I think of Disney and Warner Brothers and how they begun,
in the way that they entertained everyone between films,
the speed of an intermission,
the repetitive patrons on the left hand of the auditorium refrain from smoking,
whilst the woman behind me expressed how itchy her heel was and the guy next to her,
spilling popcorn on the rest of his meal,
and the green chilly with dip and nachos,
outside Macdonald’s, the chicken shop and the Chinese,
the pub round the corner and the birds in the tree’s,
the twittering noises and the room with a view,
the windows empty,
beyond that I knew.

The sanctimonious future and the bits in-between,
the eyes,
the vision and the Oden big screen.
The barks,
the street lights and the white snow drops,
the road blocks,
the digging noises,
the stamping of back feet,
like soldiers expressing discontent,
in tandem to the sound of ringing in the ears and the behind sound cheers,
it’s behind you and when are you going to give us something to cheer about.

The clapping sound,
the depression sound on the ascension of the bus brakes.

The wheelchair,
the track, the circuit,
sax and drum,
the squeaky toys,
the boys and the measuring belt,
the worn out bottoms,
jeans that require hand stitching,
the need for something,
now I understand the stamping.
Its to express, to evoke and to laden the weight, like exhalation of all the pent up love of poetry.


A walk in the marsh

2010-09-09 18.42.40The marsh is a great place to go for a walk with the dog because you can let him of the lead. In the evening you can watch the moon and the stars. In the morning you can enjoy the fresh air. In the afternoon you can chat to interesting people about dog politics.

Pxlr Tip

Robert-Bridge pxlr tip

Pxlr tip

Today finally figured out how to make background on images with Pxlr transparent. You do it from the beginning, the option is there you will see it. I made the image ten times the size of the dimension I wanted it. When I saved the image all I had to do to edit image was remove a zero when editing. In order for the transparent image to work you must change saving image as Jpeg to Gif else the background becomes white. Its very simple. Adding images is good with a paint brush. I thought about adding a photo in a bubble by lassoing image first before adding to the transparent background but never got around to it. You could even add a ring around it or a horse shoe so you look like one of those gurners in gurner competitions. Have fun.

Postcard from Maine (9)

Stories from home

5-14-14Portland Head_61seconds From a particularly productive morning… it had snowed on my way from Bangor to Portland. I had a work-related meeting that day in the city, so figured what the hey… I might as well get an early start and see if I could take advantage of the first light.

Take a walk on the path to the left of the lighthouse and you begin to get a completely different view of the scene, especially at low tide since you can scamper down onto the rocks in search of interesting foreground elements. This can officially be called the “blue-hour” – some time before the sun makes an appearance, yet when there is still enough early morning light to illuminate the landscape. There were some fast-moving clouds overhead, and of course the waves washing on and off shore – throughout that, the striking Portland Head Lighthouse beacon illuminated the morning.

I did what…

View original post 82 more words

brie bites with sugared cranberries

daisy's world

Brie Bites  with Sugared Cranberries | daisysworld.net

Oh my gosh!  I can’t believe the holidays are here and that means parties galore. Whether you’re hosting a party or need to bring something to one, why not give this recipe a try? These Brie Bites with Sugared Cranberries will make a stunning addition to any holiday table and is a wonderful accompaniment to the festive cocktails of the season. It’s made with rich and creamy Brie cheese and topped with sugar-frosted cranberries. They make a simple, yet elegant appetizer. It’s  actually quite easy to make, but it requires some planning as the fresh cranberries are best when soaked in simple syrup overnight. 

View original post 534 more words

Sarah Malakoff – Second Nature

The PhotoBook Journal


Copyright Sarah Malakoff 2013 published by CHARTA

Sarah Malakoff (b. 1972 Wellesley, MA and resides in Boston, MA) chose to photograph a subject that she knows well, the interior living spaces found in the greater Boston area where she was born and raised.

Her pensive photographs are characterized by a warmth and intimacy. These are not the staged interior photographs found in advertisements or glossy interior decorating magazines so common in America. The beds are ruffled and unmade, a box of clothing lies haphazard under a bed, a board game is askew on top of a table, and there are particles of soot lying on top of the carpet in front of the blazing fire, leaves and debris on the kitchen floor adjacent to the sliding door and the many lounging animals, both real and inanimate. Nevertheless her interiors are still a bit too clean and tidy, bordering on sterile…

View original post 378 more words