The Photographers’ Poem


50 mm lens, a compact nifty fifty,

aperture shifting, @ f/1.2,f/2.4,f/4,

Zoom in, out slant of the eyebrows,

The face, myopic, microscopic now.

(-0.50 lens, are appearances everything)?

 

The scuffle between agility and survival,

Amma’s saree pleats on her forehead,

mish and mashed, like parallel plateau,

in an ebb & flow, embedded in her destiny.

(The glitter on her face is not a diamond).

 

The hands maybe, bled as they wrote,

verse & prose of love, longing, and loss,

The dexterity of those robust hands,

scaffolded, holding precarious verses.

(not the frame, but in his narrowed eyes).
The peacocks at season’s first shower,

squeezing feet, expanding, contracting,

their feet trample all over her eyelids,

sun glares, hope depletes, a dry day.

(Another red note in the baniya’s register.)
Faces I faced, during nomadic journeys,

people I met, momentarily, captured,

Untold stories the camera tagged along,

Unresolved conflicts, not mine, mine now.

(Ah, Travesty of A Photographers’ Life).

 

I am taking my blog to next level with #Blogchatter and #MyFriendAlexa Season 2.

This poem is the post no. 7 in the Blogchatter Alexa challenge.

All photographs are clicked by the writer. Rights to all the photographs and content remain with the writer of this blog @ImaGeees. No reproduction of content or photograph allowed without permission from the writer.

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42 thoughts on “The Photographers’ Poem

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    1. Thank you, Dr. Amrita. These are some of my favorite portraits that formed lives of their own.Travelling is evolving. When you meet people like this who have faced the travesty of life and yet, keep moving, it humbles you.

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  1. The hands maybe, bled as they wrote
    verse & prose of love, longing, and loss…

    I loved these lines a lot, but I feel some of those photographs that you have clicked speak silent verses too. 🙂 They are very, very beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Vinay.These are some of my fave portraits from years of travel. you are right, they speak silent verses. Thus, I gave voice to only few in the poem. “The hands may bled” for the man who wrote “all of those who sleep tonight”, you saw the intensity in his eyes ? where do you find such depth…

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    1. Thank you so much Ashwini. You have been very kind in your praise (and superlatives). I am beaming ear to ear :)).

      Writing is not a choice but a habit, photography is an OCD I am trying to find a cure of. Some days, these two find rhythm together and create a new symphony. I am a mere spectator.

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