Unlearning the Poetry of Life .

Unlearning the Poetry of Life .
Originally uploaded by flickr photographerno1

We are human.
Thank God for that.
We shoot pictures of our world , we try to spread our warmth , our woven tales beyond cybernetic shores.. thereby touching a chord..a picture becomes a message of Hope.
It touches heals and binds.Those whom we never knew become through the aegis of our photography our contacts and our new friends.
Photography has no time for heartburning Hate.As an instrument that plays music soundlesssly creating ripples , yet breaking through barriers of sound and speed is the convulsing force of photography.
To feel this aspect of Photography you must feel Poetry of life as it unwinds every morning when we wake up from our world of slept out dreams.
You need words thoughts to make a poem, pictures you need nothing just the inner light of your vision.. whatever you shoot.
Simplicity thy name is photography.
Photography simplifies , unconfused to the arithmetic of other sciences.
No doubt you need to know the basics but the rest comes as you go on burning pictures on the emulsion of your human soul.
I had a very nasty comment on my poem Fuck Off by an American poet , it hurts but you get used to it.. Poets are more viciously venomous than photographers in their Hate.
I know this for a fact being a Photo blogger for 24 months .
I learnt rapidly poetry and photography.
You write three lines you make a poem..
It is not necessary how it translates on the readers mind, actually a poet writes for himself, that he is read is because there are some poets who are better readers.. even though they have written nothing in their lives..
Americans who live on the top floor of lifes condominium love to throw their spit till it hits the guy on the sidewalk.. without realising you got to be nice to people on your way up as you always meet them on your way down..
Maybe I am wrong in my estimation but this is what I have seen, I with all my knowledge , with my experience still am unlearning photography.
I came to Flickrs to show case my pictures not my words , but habits die hard..
Here in the picture is religion, seen as a photographic faith, charity all human virtues being bestowed on the little child by a man who feeds crows each morning, he is a Catholic his wife died recently of Cancer, he searches for her ,her memories , the good times the bad times, the ups the downs, he feeds crows , I leave the rest as a metaphor of his angst , his raw wounds and unhealing pain.The child well all the lessons of life in a few crumbs..Here the Child is the Father of Man.
This is what photography and being human means to me.
The heaviness of scriptures , fire and brimstone, bigotry, terrorism , misplaced martyrdom I forget when I shoot a child.
Yes this child was feeding the crumbs to the crows.
I picked up a crumb that accidently fell at my feet and hastly popped it in my mouth.
I began Unlearning the Poetry of Life .