Monday, September 26, 2016

Shooting the Soul of Madness

Perhaps I am a madman too
I meet them cosmically out of
The blue they wait for me at
Crossroads of the Mind old
And new ask a madman
What are you believe me for
Once he won't ever tell you
Whether he is a Muslim
Christian or Hindu
He is not a Jew ..
But metaphorically try
To step into his shoes
A drenching pain of sorrow
A dead tomorrow he has
No clue he lives from one
Mad day to the next a cup
Of tea is heady brew he does
Not bathe on the road he
Urinates defecates trouble
Him badwords he spews
They drive him away with
Stones at the public loo
Sleeping outside a shut shop
In the rains even his dreams
Are gloomy untrue ...
He could not fly over the cuckoos nest
He solemnly silently from this world of
Sane people permanently withdrew. .

As a photographer I poeticize the soul of my pictures ...what about you ...