Photography
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Winston My cat, appearing on this page.
Is only one, a youngish age,
The very coy-est of the coy,
Needless to say, it’s a boy.
There’s this blog
Called Humans of New York
Created by a photographer
Who walks through New York City
Stopping people on the street,
You say you take pictures of the things you love the most,
I smile and nod as you take a picture of the sky,
yet you've never taken pictures of me.
Albums and albums full of skylines across the coast,
To you it might not seem a lot
And to you he cannot give it thought
But for every little thing you do
He owes his entire world to you.
Just because I am a darker skin color
I am not ghetto
I am not out of what's "acceptable"
I am not white washed
I am more intelligent than you think
Just because I am nonexistent in your household
Pictures Say A Thousand Words
By: Audrey Forte
You could say a thousand words
but a picture can say them faster.
Frame by frame, and day by day
World’s finest grain at four hundred speed
film, película, pellicola
Radiant strip of gelatin plastic
incasing the pattern of dawn curtain light onto craning neck.
World’s finest grain at four hundred speed
film, película, pellicola
Radiant strip of gelatin plastic
incasing the pattern of dawn curtain light onto craning neck.
I am a Photograph
I am the slip of paper on the top shelf,
The blotch of color in between slabs of plastic,
The secret behind glass.
I am the beginning, and I am the end of every tale.
The black device in my hands,
Clicks and shutters with each snap.
It sees the world for what it truly is,
A still of beauty entrapped.
We talked of prized cheese
as if cheese was our master
in the great disaster of us,
Then mind spent, W(H)INE spent
on dreams only a fool would leave behind
we passed our own tests on our own
In the wake of thingswe surrendered below cutting cloudsyou to me, me to the reign of ages.
In a moments timethe world was bornour love's deathtook decades to complete.
Delving into your personaI danced on tips of grassthat tickled my feetuntil my heart laughed
long before your hissy fitsrendered me into a small black box
Side A
Find me on the flip-sideWhere vague percussionsTap below quarter-tones.
Dear Troy, I want to take you back
Back to that October morning
When you rode on the back of that flatbed, freezing, trembling
Remember how the vicious air whisked against your face
“I’m sorry.”
Muttered softly.
Keep your head down child,
Don’t you dare cry.
Showing weakness is not an option,
Not if we want to get out of here intact.
We stand side by side,
"Just a second," the typical reassuring lie I spoke aloud
I stopped more frequently than I had been walking.
At first they would wait for me,
But after a while it was simply no use to wait for another person
Men glide like ghosts,
Blending into the shadows
Of a darkened world.
The rain-laden air was palpable,
Heavy on the tongue and
Dampening the hair and
Leaving cool droplets on the skin.
You see the world the way my eyes could never see it
You bring light to darkness and find beauty where it is unseen
The way your heart beats at the moment of my touch
I am sorry, I won’t always mirror,
I am sorry,
But you cannot look through these lens again
My friend,
I have seen it fall to the bitter ground
The darkest tar,
The sound still echoes within the carved halls of my heart.
By: David Avery
The universe is full of magnificent things
And there is no way but journeying through the
World, and opening your mind, to see it.
Awe-some things like the sunset at night,
Put the camera to my face,
The world is just an image.
I can capture what I want,
And leave out all the baggage.
Put the camera to my face,
The world is just an image.
You can catch it in the flow, or you can catch it in the slow. Either way, its composed of opposites, yet these opposites are still prominent. We capture photographs with our eyes, such as the beauty of a firefly.
Click
“ON”
A clickKk
A Snap!
A little twist in just the right place
If a picture paints a thousand words
My imagination chauffeurs my sensation.
Safely to where? I don’t care.
Afar from my fears, and my worthless tears.
Keeping my thoughts from my battles fought.
In the rain to ease the pain.
The light, the dark, the shade.
There's no bette feeling than knowing our place.
eventually, somehow, without trying, it slowly starts to fade away.
Before the memory fades, I capture it.
Flash before my eyes,
I see it with my eyes
I look away from the lies
I capture that moment in the small box I call a camera.
But when everyone looks at me, some see a werido, a creep.
It takes one day of seeing the gallery
That's when the camera discovers you
It knows you won't do it for a salary
This happens because it knows you'll pursue
My eyes are always wandering
I’m stranded on a deserted island with nothing else to do
Except to look beyond the horizon across the ocean blue.
If only I had my camera.
If I had my camera, I would never be alone
I am not myself without a camera in hand.
Whether in the snow or lying in the sand.
The colors move me
Like a branch on a tree.
A beautiful scene in my fingers.
Gives me a feeling I hope lingers.
I am...behind the lens.
Listening, looking, learning.
Viewing life at every angle.
Visiting past memories.
Loving, laughing, living.
I am The Photographer.
Here but never seen
Hide behind the camera
I am a coward
Stuck in a small world
Yearning for new adventures
If art is happiness, what do you when you can't make art?
For six long years I've captured beauty around me with a click
From the begining of my craft it all started with a click
A breeze, trembling as it channels down through the trees,
Articulates itself to me as talking leaves sail from the higher bodies of nature.
A kid who just wants to be heard
Someone who wants success
Others look at him and say oh my he's blessed
They don't know the pain, the problems
Of always wanting to be the best
His parents are proud of him
Who wants to be like me?
They say I am not popular
They say I am far from perfect
Without the makeup
Without the filters
I am me
And on the inside
I know that I am perfect
The world is full of hate and anger,
These things tend to berate and linger,
Be cautious ye, the Instagrammer,
Don't post pics that make thee stammer.
In fact my friend, open your eyes,
I am merely an average girl with a passion for fashion,
Photography is life,
And so are filters.
Realistically, I am a simple girl without filters,
Or maybe, a beauty-queen who needs a little edit.
When Blue Reflects Upon Waves
I’m staring, always staring, forever staring,
No focus in sight, yet a bright future yields token,
Novel, arguably plausible possibilities.
I wake to photography,
I love the outdoors, the scenery,
The nature located only two feet away...
But when I open the door, I don't find myself at home,
I find myself in a place I could only ever dream of,
Summer slips away and we students rush in to the facilities that torment us so.
We'll spend hours a day in chairs of stone, forced to learn things we don't wish to know.
A young child, excited for the world.
A mother, brimmed with envy, says to she,
"My you're getting chubby, little girl!"
Suddenly, the world was cruel, and the world was vicious.
The buildings crumble slowly
Cement walls expose once hidden dark red bricks
Those who slowly crawl past the scene see the structure’s open wounds
My eyes see the world
In ways different than yours
Forming ideas, designing images
This is the gift I was given
Turning what you see into art
Frames, collages, canvasses
And one day
capturing moments within my dream world
as they strut down the catwalk
like ferocious felines
willing to share my vision
on magazine spreads
I watched closely…
Nature inspires, destroys, and sustains life;
Unimaginably kind yet dangerous-
All at once
I could capture these mixed feelings
I could understand…
I want to understand…
To be a successful photographer is every artists dream
To have your own subjects and a little camera team
To make big bucks doing what you love
To be able to look up at the sky and thank the lord above
There’s a faded, torn pictureMy grandma lovingly tapedOf the day she stood in front of old AbeAnd with thousands of othersCheered for a dreamA dream full of hopeThat we wouldn’t see
Eyes like a shutter
Mind like a lense
I capture the memories so that they don't fade or blend
What if I travled the world?
No, I want more.
What if I showed my world the real world around them?
What if it were just me
A camera and some luggage
In a warzone maybe
we see in colors
made by black and white
we take photos in color
we do everything digital
yet we forget about the past
where nothing was digital
where we used film to record memories
Photography is easy. I could do that…all you have to do is click a stupid button. Why do you find it so important?
I sit by watching the world turn
Round, round, round.
I see the prom queen crowned,
The football team reign.
Everything and nothing
seems to revolve around me.
A child lay still on the hard ground with no chance of life
Click
A girl lay with a possible bruised and battered because of human trafficking
Click
There’s one less life on earth because of suicide
Click
When it is between white and color it's all over the news,
But when its black against black it gets no views!
This is normal just like sinners behind pews.
How is the stench of dead boys on the streets nothing new?
You missed it,
everything looks wrong,
that there doesn't fit,
the moments gone.
The angles off,
the flash is too bright,
I could be a writer.
But I much prefer photography.
Yet don’t they say that photos are worth a thousand words?
All I have to do is put those words onto non-light sensitive paper.
But I don’t because
A photo portray a story ,
People happy , together and well .
You only see that story ,
No idea if they feel the same .
I take pictures because they do not change .
This book will bleed no blood
Only the shrieks of my inner ambition and concept
Raw vision.
I am a conceptualist and a realist
with a superficial story behind my self esteem.
In the beginning,
There was a God for all
A fierce parent
Loving and righteous.
But men bent him
In their own image-
A lily-white God with blond hair
Fair and beautiful
And biased.
Imagine. An artist that shows the world through pictures. Snapshots depicting the full range of human emotion. Hiding all sense and feeling behind the white plastic frame of a slowly developing Polaroid.
I am the object of your affection
tantalizing your obsessions
To you I am an image
to some I am a mirage
To me I am nothing
Shoot me because I am beautiful
Capture my flesh within each pixel
What makes a photographer good?
Patience, settings, or things that would,
make people stop dead in their tracks,
to observe with the wonder the photos that catch,
the five human senses as well as the thoughts,
I'm what?!?
Oh you say i'm weird
as in erie, different, or abnormal, right?
Does it bother you....
you know, that i'm not like you or your crew
Am i offending you?
Well sorry to hear that!
Everything used to be so black and white
Suits that men wore, the color on a T.V. screen,
The photographs that took hours to print.
But so were the beliefs of our countrymen.
It was either black or white—no gray area.
