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This topic isn’t new to many of us. If you’ve taken an art history class or attended some form of art appreciation conference, fundraiser, auction, convention and the list goes on…you’ve probably seen or at least heard the topic flutter pass your ears.

But I’m not here to talk about how art enhances poetry (which it does). Or how we should see more of it in our college criteria in the way that it’s relatable to the present generation (which we should). But rather I want to give a short blurb on the curious effect of art and poetry.

I love photography. my Instagram bares testament to that. I love poetry just as much as I love photography which we know goes in many ways hand and hand. Oddly enough, I’ve only recently combined the two…and I am please to say that my paradigm has shifted entirely.

Before I focused on lightening, ambience and the potential to relay a story without words when selecting a potential subject for my daily shoots. I now subscribe myself to three questions before closing the shutter.

1. Does the image create poetry?  I don’t simple want to look at the image and think, ‘great photo!’ I need to hear riveting words trickle through my brain as if life was flowing to me.

2. Is it relatable?  I’m a pretty eccentric person. So as much as I would like think that every person should understand me…I know that’s not true. Thus I do a few test reads before posting online. It helps though we know everyone is a critic and some allowance must be given. 

3. Is it enjoyable?  There’s nothing more dismal than a boring poem that is accompany by a boring picture. Sad really. But I have found that by joining poetry with still life art…the process itself has become more invigorating. Exciting, right? There’s nothing more devastating to an artist than to lose its muse…so if it works, it works.

Yes I know…you’ve heard this before. I hope you don’t mind hearing it again.

I wanted to start a poetic series but I wasn’t sure how and what topic. Ironically while debating on the genre, this poem began to formulate in my mind. So while this isn’t part one of a serious (Though it has the potential to become a series), I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

 

Down to the darkest abyss
Here’s a tale you’ll never forget
Unless you fall into the pit
The one that brings out your worst fears

There is a secret you’re sure to know
A source that’s more than any gold
Wipe that sneer, you’ve been told
There’s a hell you may come to know

Arrogant, gallant, high in the air
Watch your pride go and bring a standstill
Fight for what you want
Believe in what you believe

Your light of glory will surely fail
At the wondrous sight you’ll see
Shall I say you are grand?
No, that would be deceit

This magnificent glow is fair you see
It spreads and strikes with fear
But h how it pulls you in
and how it burns and sears

This is the end my fellow friends
But here’s a word to the wise
Keep wide your heart and strong your mind
As life pulls you around

Whether up or down, good or bad
Time will surely state
Will you fall into Heaven’s grace
Or burn in Hell’s embrace 

How you torment me o false star!
Making empty promises and lethal threats
You shine so bright, but oh how you are cold
The heat that follows you gives you no warmth
A cold hallow fire that makes false light
Yet you dare fake star to make yourself bright
Using plight souls as your inner shine
How wicked you are, dim star
Using words that bares you no resemblance
Yet you are determine to wreck me of sleep and peace
Hear me o’ lost star, I pity you
For no love comes to you
Forever frozen, love spares you no peace

Earlier this spring, I was coming home from a long week of exploring in Baltimore. In the midst of driving a terrible storm arose. I began to slow my car and adjust the thermostate in my car.

A few seconds passed and then window cleared and moments later the storm passed on. What greeted me next was a fog so thick…you could see barely a foot in front of you.

I kept driving while others pulled into a nearby rest stop. It felt like the fog would continue forever. Yet, the cloud began to part and beams of light flooded the road.

Oh you who has brought me the sun
Your beams of light make me gleam
As I brace the wind and run
With heavens’s light along the stream
Oh you who has given me hope
Let nothing drive us apart
Through the night my soul copes
As your rays help me soar

     While driving from my hometown to Baltimore, I witnessed a remarkable sight. It was during the wee hours of the morning, probably about 4am. I was weary and lacking in sleep. However, I was determine to witness daybreak while in the inner lining of the mountains. By the time 5am rolled around, I was bouncing in my seat to techno music trying to stay awake. I intended to pull over and rest after the breaking of the dawn. Finally, at 5:30, light began peeping through the clouds. At 5:45, orange and red begin to explode like a sweeping fire across the sky. It was remarkable! The mountains as its back dropped made me truly appreciate my surrounds and the blessing of being able to live in such a place where I could see such a sight.   It brought about a poem.

“Oh, how I long for the colors of your gownIt’s red hues and orange sashes draping about.
Oh, how lovely, your most elegant crown”
Light blues with wispy pearls of a cloudy white
If only I could adorn you with purple silk
And place your throne upon the rolling hills
So that all could see your golden tresses
Complimenting your tone of smooth white milk
Floating about from dawn to dusk
Fading back into the night until the next morning light