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Paragraphs in Photographs

 

There are hidden words and worlds with every press of the shutter,
capturing split second images that were sure to be forgotten.
Hiding behind the camera lens we can still create,
hundreds of stories that were meant to be written,
but not by words alone but by images so lively and vivid.
For each glance, each gesture, each backdrop we take,
contains their own little stories that can be read in so many ways.
There are always paragraphs in photographs we take,
hidden in plain sight for knowing eyes to see
how to view the world in a different light.
Seeing images but reading paragraphs in between,
the power of photographs and hidden words combined.

-eamarifosque 062413-

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Distances

 

Bridging distances with words built on
fragile dreams and budding feelings.
We spin words and send them to space
retrieving them in little handheld devices.
Reading stories woven by minds
that are trapped in each of their own worlds.
Connecting them in silent reverie
until thoughts are pierced and pieced together,
and filed and stored away in memory fields
where we can stroll around in perfect bliss.
Conjuring up pictures of who we are
and who we can be when we’re together.
When the bridges we’ve built
to close these distances are sturdier than ever
we might then be free to give ourselves
the chance to be the best in each others eyes,
because that’s what love can make us do
whe we see each other in the eyes of a lover.

-eamarifosque 050713-

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On Writing Stories

 

Letters standing side by side,
spaces in between words,
words that bring to life,
discarded thoughts
of a daydreamer.

Worlds come apart yet made whole,
with paragraphs slowly filling,
empty sheets of paper,
with a pen that bleeds,
dark ink from its lips.

Folklores and forgotten tales,
magic and mysteries do tell.
For there are eyes and hands waiting,
to read the lines and turn the pages,
to get lost in the world you’ve created.

-The Elusive Scribe 041013-

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The Doll

creepy...

creepy…

The Doll

creepy doll sitting by the ledge,
dirt encrusted face can’t hide
its blue eyed stare that knows,
all the people’s secrets that they tell,
as they pass by never knowing,
that there’s a doll listening to their stories
with that wide open stare.

I found this doll sitting on the ledge of a gated vacant lot. I had the feeling that I was somehow being watched. So, I took a picture of it and decided to make a poem just for the sheer joy of it.

-The Elusive Scribe 032713-

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The Elusive Scribe

Capturing thoughts that flit and float,
with flailing hands and fingers unclenched.
Flowing words can’t fill the paper,
of this elusive scribe hidden in the shadows.

Hunting dreams in the subconscious world,
where monsters live and dangers are real.
The scribe looks for stories to tell,
real or imagined, she doesn’t care.

No one knows where she came from,
try as they might they can’t find her.
From the depths of the shadows she lives,
tasting sunshine and moonbeams where no one sees.

– The Elusive Scribe 032613-