logo

Category : My Photo Book

The lonely clock looks down on us reminding us of her.
Reminding us what we don’t have much of.
This beautiful woman called time.
She reminds us to smile.
She tells us to spend her with loved ones.
She tells us to spend her being kind.
She tells us to spend her being good and kiss often.
For the lonely clock is her assistant, clicking, ticking constantly reminding us.
She is running out.
She will leave us.
This beauty called time.

Oh window, Oh window where can you be?
I look through you but cannot see.
I’m lost in this thing called life.
Living is my goal I can’t think twice.
Its apparent you will not answer me.
And I drown in sadness and agony.
Oh window, oh window please, please, please!
Take me to the other side I’m waiting happily.

Alone by yourself in the undergrowth of the steel garden.
Eating stirring picking your food with the cool aroma of dampness.
The uniformity of bricks and tiles like wild flowers in a sea of grass.
The pipes are vines spreading as far as the eye can see created by the man god.
The girth of steel pillars like the mighty tree bolted down like roots to hold their cemented leaves above.
This is beauty of the modern age.
We just don’t notice it even when we’re alone.

 

 

 

 

I️ ponder to compare the wooden tracks of old to the scene of the rising train.
In the morn of the twilight it cast sun shadows on the busy streets below
At night it roars with a thunderous light of sparks that zooms above your head like a mystical dragon of steel, screeching along the way.
“Next stop Chicago!”
Announces the robotic mystic beast.
What would the turn of the century conductor say, of this modern city’s present day?

 

 

There were angels flying over head.
I thought them to be man-birds in my dreams.
With pretty colors and long wings.
It’s a blur, I must be mad.
Someone commit this crazy man.
Tie him to a hospital bed.
Pad his room and throw away the key.
Explain to me, oh please!
These visions that haunt me!
Was it a man or was it a bird that I see?
Maybe they were angels over me.

 

 

The mighty tyrannosaurus brick is on the prowl.
It hunts at all hours.
Gobbling up the feeble man humans night and day.
Man humans being killed daily by the turn-style of death.

There’s another poor soul being swallowed by the mouth of its glass teeth.
Jaws opening wide with a sound of a mechanical whir.
Doors swooshing chomping as the man humans enter.

Some manage to escape its clutches to never return.
And some never come out being slowly digested in the bowels of bills and debt.
This beast needs to feed you see.
For if there are no man humans to feed on then tyrannosaurus brick will become extinct.
As long as they get their nutrition called work.
The tyrannosaurus brick will continue to roam the earth and gobble souls.

Peering at life through a window at the black and white breezy city.
Watching people rush and sway in the ocean of pavement and sidewalks like waves crashing along the curbs.
For me the scene is still like the ice cube in my drink.
Cool glass of water on the left and a hot coffee on the right.
The scene frozen in time in this city of mine.