“The Sun the Color of Pressed Grapes…”

Tags

Abstract, Beach, Black and White, Blur, Drear, Experimental Photography, Nature, Ocean, Pensive, Photography, Quotes, Sand, Sea, Twilight

“He opens his eyes and stares directly into the morning sun which wallows up from the misty sea like some bloated, dying fish. The sky is gray and immobile, a dome of lead. A cloud hangs mute and dark over the western horizon. High up, barely visible, a seagull floats on motionless wings. Its cry is weird and restless.”
– Ingmar Bergman, The Seventh Seal

“I had forgotten that time wasn’t fixed like concrete but in fact was fluid as sand, or water. I had forgotten that even misery can end. ”
– Joyce Carol Oates, I Am No One You Know

“Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgundy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.”
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road

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In the Ivory Light of Winter

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Abstract, Black and White, Drear, Droplets, Florida, Light, Lonely, Loss, Monochrome, Nature, Pensive, Photography, Quotes, Rain, Sky, Stark, Sunset, Urban, Water

“But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope”
-From “Middlemarch” by George Eliot

“When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know”
-From the song, “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel

“Even death has a heart.”
-Markus Zusak, “The Book Thief”

“We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.”
-Carl Sagan
“The old ones called it ‘the hour of the wolf’. It is the hour when the most people die, and the most are born. At this time, nightmares come to us. And when we awake, we are afraid.”
-Ingmar Bergman, film “The Hour of the Wolf” (“Vargtimmen”)

Craggy Gutter

Tags

Black and White, Decay, Drear, Fall, Gutter, Leaves, Nature, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Rain, Thoughts

Dull dysthymia
Lurches in dawn
Hearing wind chimes
And conscience gone

Pneuma, a ragged reflection,
Stolid, bold as the barren kern
That stumbles into scathing sea
These eyes of limestone, wrathful burn

It is captured, then bleeds detached-
Down-trodden, the Lone Leaf that flits
In the cool wind’s mist, a grey wheeze
Vomits barnacles, writhes and spits

Reticent It swims in pools of rain
Gathered in the craggy gutter
Lil’ yellow leaf swirling alone
Decays there with doleful flutter

Such is a Soul
Dead cries implore
Mute, say one thing
And nothing more

Porcine Wings and Flower Skulls

Tags

Abstract Photography, Drear, Night, Night Photography, Photography, Poetry, Rain, Thoughts

Door swinging in wind

Waiting for the midnight train-

Possum waddles by

In street-puddles swims the moon

Water oily black

Wandering in rain-sloshed thought

Roads brushed in silence

In the grimy windowpane-

Fog and memory

Iodine Sun (The Last Geo-Engineer)

Tags

Black and White, Dark, Drear, Fall, Gossamer, Light and Shadow, Nature, Photograph, Prose, Stark, Sunlight, Web, Woods

Iodine sun seeps through the gauze of sulfuric cloud, atmosphere smothered as sunset swims on still pools of flaming auburn. Dead leaves swirl at the surface. Staggering, spilling, fisticuffing with the twisting branches that grasp and clutch, I toss into the prickly, stinging copse of thorns and splinters. There, at last, I find stillness, inhaling the heady scent of decay, visage buried in debris, listening to the writhing of beetles and centipedes beneath.

As a species decants into the Night, there may linger a faded imprint, but Nature utilizes and swiftly forgets her creatures lost- she knows no mourning as a comet smears the evening sky, unseen, and a last breath escapes with a silent wheeze.