'You go your way and I'll go mine' (Parque das Nações, Lisbon, Portugal)

 

I suppose you could say that poetry runs in my family - although it's unlikely anyone other than me would ever find themselves saying any such thing. My father's uncle is/was W.H. Davies; a Welsh poet who was rightly overshadowed by his contemporary, Dylan Thomas. I have sporadically written poems since my teenage 'angst years' and the other day I composed a short ditty 'On Photography.' One of my nieces is a real poet who often writes poems to accompany my photographs which I then attach to the photo's description. There are dozens of them by now all of which are included in an album entitled 'Photos w Poetry, Music, Lyrics and More' which can be viewed here: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/canadapt/albums/72157718175008721">www.flickr.com/photos/canadapt/albums/72157718175008721</a>

I emailed my poem 'On Photography' to my niece who emailed back to me - literally within minutes - a poetic rejoinder to my verse. Both poems are included below. 

I have chosen a street shot taken years ago in Lisbon to accompany the poems. The title for the picture is - of course - from a Dylan song. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPRzHqAEpZk" rel="noreferrer nofollow">www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPRzHqAEpZk</a>

***********************

'On Photography'

My shutter finger travels to the sun and back
In one sixtieth of a second
Or a fraction more 
Or a fraction less

With an eye wide open at once
Or squinting to take it all in
Looking at length and then
Wide afield and then
Up close
Through rose coloured glass.

My vision ... coloured
My thoughts ... black and white
My thinking ... dark and light

Say what I see
See what I mean
Do you?

It doesn't really matter
To me
Either way
Except to me
Either way ... it matters.

@M. Hill (2022)

**********************

'Picture This'

 

“Picture this!” he proclaimed for all to see,   

And then posted it for all to see.

“Do you see what I see?” he dared

To all who might care as he cared.

“Do you care to see as I see?” he asked,

“Or would you be overtaxed?”

So the photographer wends his camera lens

At sights to him that make the worthiest sense,

Afar, near, up or down, it is all there

In detail or a blur, his soul’s laid bare.

Colour, light or not, or shadow’s cast

Contour and texture are all contrast.

Rose coloured or stark, whatever that vision be,

Whomever pictures this, is free to see.

@C. Hill (2022)