|I loved taking this shot... getting the angle just right etc. Enjoy.|
Tell MeTell MeTell Me by AngelofGod87
At first glance, contradictions,
Rough and tumble
I knew I had spotted trouble,
Opposites attract, or so they say
So my heart fled and flitted
While smiles and laughter showed,
I had no clue what was awaiting,
When revealed the man inside,
It's true what they say,
Country has it's own way.
Your embrace, comfort and strength,
Your laugh brings forth my smiles,
Could you tell me why I love you,
would you show me how and why?
At a glance all seems so fleeting,
Every breath held, wondering.
Opposites attract they say,
But then, tell me why I love you so?
© 2012 A. Rivera
Busy BeeCurious, bright-eyed wonderBusy Bee by AngelofGod87
Boundless energy, awe inspiring.
Busy bee, never ceasing ever reaching
Boundless energy, little hands learning.
Curious, bright-eyes, winking.
All is new, all is fun, all is bright
in this wide world.
Awesome wonder, God's own plan.
Curious, bright-eyed wonder,
You have much to see and much to learn,
Curious little busy bee, ever testing...
Snowflake in the SunFairness is a mysterySnowflake in the Sun by Mattiello
that concedes reality.
Reality is a mystery
that undermines individuality.
Individuality is a snowflake
in the sun.
The Journey in a Journal of LeavesI.IThe Journey in a Journal of Leaves by Mattiello
A boy on the dank marshes of civilization
stretches and yawns as he peers into the
fog. Marked by the petrified silence of crumb-
ling shell-stone upon the gouged, tear-stained
mound of time's evidence, her languid blood
claims the nature of his shadow's rest, becoming -
in essence as well - the dark reflection that
grips his ever-struggling heart.
Roots of a mature hawthorn tree could fill
coarse gouges of the mound, but
becoming drunk on night's embrace
petrifies the horrors upon the sleeping
and allows it to wallow in the throes of
the forever-interrogative: why?
The sun cannot burn the fog, but the
hazy shadow of a path leads toward
wherever. The boy must choose this
path since he has no desire to participate
within her reflection. He steps upon the path
and SLAMS onto the uneven and slimy
bricks that watch with unblinking eyes
as his newly distorted face puked his red
payment as a toll for travel upon his merit.
inflamed muscles pain his progress to the
boy's standing po
|Its quite interesting what one finds whilst browsing endless galleries or just what a friend has just posted.|
BrokeWhen Richard found out his father died the first thought he had was not about flowers. He doesn't remember what it was, in fact. A year before, when his Aunt Cathy died, all he could think about was flowers. His mother, still in shock"I thought cancer worked slower than that? A month?"had delegated tasks to everyone in the family. Richard was assigned floral decorations. His father saw to the coffin while mother picked the church and called the relatives.
Richard was glad he only got flower duty. Coming home from college for the week, he remembers the pace of mother's phone calls. From her bedroom, it would be silent for a minute or two, then tears, occasional nose blowing, then silence again. Mother got better after she made it through her side of the family. When Richard finally decided on a wreath of chrysanthemums (truth, honesty) with highlights of
This was taken by my friend Moises's mother while we were singing Bell Carols of the King and you can tell it's one of my favorite songs to sing in Choir by the look in my face. With me are my two very dear friends Jessy and Moises.
Current Residence: United States
Favorite genre of music: Hard Rock
Favorite photographer: There are a few...
Favorite style of art: Well written Poetry, Landscape and Portrait photography
Operating System: MacBook
Favourite cartoon character: Tom & Jerry
Personal Quote: Perfectionism is not a sin... to give up is the sin!