Best Lense Poems
The overlapping of me and us three
Of who I was and who I turned out to be
I never ever felt I was good enough
Or tuff enough to deal with that stuff
Gentleness inside grew like a flower
by day by night hour by hour
Yet I’m not some shrinking violet
I did not could not would not cower
I allowed soft to become my superpower
No bitter bone or heart like stone
A soft voice without the sappy happy tone
Those who need me won’t be left all alone
My minds not made to be judgmental
even when others might feel anger prone
So I’m okay with me
and who you two became too
We each have our ways to be true
I’m thankful we escaped our blue
Finding our best way through
We are more than what we were
or even all the things we’ve done or do
Nothing is everything
Thankfully overlapping old ways
make way for the new.
Myself an my siblings each dealt with the trauma of our childhood in our own ways. When I was younger I had trouble accepting their different ways. Time is a lense that helps us view the past with more clarity.
I was on the run from the sun. Unaware of the fact that WE ARE ALL ONE./ I'd forgotten
where we all come from. And this pathetic writing fuels no purpose; an empty mode of
expression...In and out are the same./ I learned that the day I came into this world. Out of
one mother and into another. My mother earth. I thank god for my ability to give birth. To
create a life worth living, I must get better at the art of giving. And lose my war against
thinking. For only in true surrender does freedom live,/ and in that place lies my ability to
give/ WHOLEHEARTEDLY./ I must continue down the path that my first sacred breath started
me./ The moment my heart started to beat, I became aware of this thing called "me"./ And
when my brain formed,/ thoughts clouded the lense through which I see. And still here I be,/
a walking manifestation of the fact that god means FREE.
I looked at snapshots
From a bygone day
Were things as great
As people like to say
Everything picture perfect
Clothing and smile
Captured by the camera
These pictures in my pile
There is my old self
With a knowing look
The memories flood back
Like pages from a book
As I keep flipping
My tears make me shake
Taking this look back
What a huge mistake
So back in the box
To the rear of the shelf
Hidden but not forgotten
Still a part of myself
Cappuccino café
Leila Alaoui
Why does one have to die?
So that we can see the bold and noble heart
That used to beat with passion, why?
Her smile now, heaven sent from the sky
Her beauty would have fooled most men
For it was not her, but through her lense
She observed the burdened and tormented souls
Shining light on their toils, her only goal
Why do they seek Parisians martyrs?
Killing for the sake of hate seems all that matters
Can you slaughter such a beautiful vision?
Or will she hide inside a cameras transmission?
Leila left parts of her all over this earth
Each Photograph of our souls she took
She buried herself in the smiles of hands she shook
Eyes dancing, we saw her photos of beauty… worth
She met her fate at Africa’s door
Coffee and baguette her last meal that sad day
Evil men laughed at the blood they did spray
Her camera fell then to the ground
Her memory shall brighten all of your tomorrows
With her photos and kiss,
We stand silent in sorrow
One day, the camera, another shall borrow
'in the blink of an eye"
the camera lense inside my eye decided to take flight
upon an adventurous love affair intending to ignite
while in the midst of viewing landscapes beautiful symmetry
capturing on eternal film every earthly mystery.
in Rome , the Trevi Fountain intoxicates by bell
enticing fond admirers to cast coins in wishing well
while gondolas in Venice charm romantic lovers ride
upon blue azure waterways where gentle breezes abide.
feeling incredible power of Mount Vesuvious volcano
inhaling cathedral windows in Padua with classic staino
motor boat sking on white crested waves of the Amalfi Coast
treasured sights of Italy, to tourists, plays great host.
my lense kidnaps a winery in Tuscany's grape vineyard
absorbing growing vines of fruit in softly blowing windward
toasting wine is an Italian custom of friendly greeting
ingesting sights so breathtaking invigorates heart beating.
journeying to Positano Harbor for cool boat races
snapping photos vigrously as challengers heighten their paces
a lovely paradise exists on Florence steamy sandy beach
as twilight horizon canopy glows as pretty as ripe peach.
in the blink of an eye the mind hides memories of travel
forever encased inside the lense protected from unravel
a treasure chest of cherished moments envisioned with deep sigh
a fabulous adventure preserved within the blink of an eye.
*For SandyIvy's Viewing Life Through Camera Lenses Contest.
*Nov. 13, 2012.
When the voices are silenced
And my mind is void of the tyrants
Only then will I be free
Only then will I able breathe
As for now, I lie awake
Thinking over every mistake
Pondering life and where it ends
Not looking through a rose colored lense
Pessimism tears my fragile being
The glass neither full nor empty from what I'm seeing
But rather it is shattered
Displaying that nothing really matters
There is not life is truly important to us
This life is a vessel, like a bus
Used To take us away later in death
Only important after our last breath
For then some "being" decides
Wear it is our soul shall reside
Be it earth, heaven or hell
Someone else will toll our bell
Wripped page...
Was it so bauetiful,
so much so to be hidden,
from view of men?
Did they spill their soul upon a page?
Until fear came...
To paper became a cage.
Trapping their soul in a deminsion,
of their own creation...
Take pity upon a poet's heart.
Taking pain upon themselves
Not much sanity in finding pain,
Taking the curse of humanity,
who said we're sain?
For we are the ones that in vain,
See through the cracked glass.
To see through a lense never gained.
Through sadness comes beauty,
from pain comes perfection...
Through the zoom lense see
A child at her play
After the rain pours
A whole week or more
The soaked earth invites
Come play with me
Make mud pies dear
Feel the squishy
Grainy, wet dirt
Let it coat
Let it smear
Dirt on ear
Mucky
Sticky
Soil
Sand
Sweep it
Mop it
Remove it
Get it off
Every floor
Can't stand that dirt
Not one grain leave
Get it all swept
And off the floors
Wash clothes 'til sparkly
Get spots off the wall
Can't stand that dry dirt
Can't stand wet at all
Through zoom lense now see
I'm just lying down here, immersed in New York Fall, watching the trees whispering through the wind, telling the winter not to come, begging the cold to leave me alone, to set me free.
Fall do not go away this time, stay with me, make me smile, let my lense catch the colors of the next New York sunrise.
Winter is coming, I can feel it here, inside my bones. I'm still shivering from cold while I am writing this, but not alone, just comfortly inspired by this beautiful sea of orange leaves painted with a brush of joy.
I do know, one day golden leaves ?? will be gone, white frosty? mornings will be the new tone. Winter is coming, snow is knocking on New York's doors. It won't stop, but if I'm lucky I still will be here closing my eyes, trying desperately to make it short.
My bed of leaves is still brown, I can peacefully sleep in its cozy bliss, just craving for an endless fall, hoping that today time stops in New York and golden ??autumns don't succumb with tomorrow's winter call.
By @lestherkarina @justnewyork4ever ©
Lesther Karina Nieves 12/04/2020 ©
I'm dyin' inside
And I don't know if
I was ever alive
On these streets
It's all too much
Lookin' at myself
It's all too much
Thinkin' these thoughts
One day is a day too many
But one less day
Is one day too few
Thinkin' one day at a time
My thoughts spinnin'
Sloshing around my noggin
Scrambling my senses
Confusing my actions
Beneath a lense
I squirm and look away
But they're just eyes
Do they see me at all
It's all too much
Surrounded by people
It's all too much
Fermenting alone
But I get bored of people
When they don't understand me
So I lock them out of my mind
Speaking in a tongue they can't contemplate
The only walls surround my mind
And I can't quite articulate how tall they are
Nor can I really break through them
So I lean against them
Words spoken and mirrors broken
Shattered glass around my bare feet
Symbolizing the people I meet
I'm terrified to move and face defeat
Friendship, love, and fellowship
These concepts are foreign to me
I thought I knew but I really don't
I think I need it but don't want it
Loneliness is the oxygen I breathe
Solitary confinement the water I drink
Antisociality is the clothes on my back
Fear is the shelter I cower in
It's all too much
Thinkin' about it all
It's all too much
This ADHD me
Covering your face with strokes of color and gold/, but as Hatshepsut your inside is dead, cold/
Likes or dislikes thats all that pops up/, yeah your soul disappeared, went cloud up/
Contouring overdone, below a crop top there is an illusion of abs/, not a sight of slack/, just to get some more egoboosting feedback/ and some more ads/
Obsessive fullness to creat that perfect look/, defections all fixed, viewers conclusion, yeah a milliondollar look/, everything done just to keep them followers hooked/
Meaningless ink confirms that you are one of the many copies in this gallery/ seductive nudity to provide for what you call a salary/
Like an addict/ you possess an unpleasant habit/, you use needles to poke a flat empty space out, just to get some more views at it/
Yeah instead of woman up/, you fillers up/, being so fake that you are getting true at it/
In a 6 inch cell case your life is locked/, charged with only a lense of glass, shouts out, blocked/
Constant tapping will crack that screen, your protection/, leaving your storebought curves slowly oxidizing, no more public acception/
Soon too post for the present, forgotten, as your time has lined out/, yeah this exhibition is over and you're out/
Poet's Gold
Not always in a glass
Observes from the humble heart til last
Call out with his pen, his voice soft as a cool wind
His lense on life, colored by history’s whim
Writing becomes his eye towards the truth and
Sky
Always, and ever asking himself the why?
A poet’s gold
His diversity
Sitting on the fence, as they say
Cannot make up my mind, on this day
I have treasures, I have hidden memories
I have archives, I have a past that follows
Old contacts, old pictures, old names, old rituals
I have those things that i've gotten attached too
They have accumulated over the years
They are hard to let go
It would hurt to leave them behind
Uncertainty, for the first time in my life
I fear the future
I don't know what to expect
I don't know what am going to lose
I don't have a long-term or a short-term goal
Am at a standstill
I look back and I like how emotional and comforting the past makes me feel
I look forward, and all I see is nothing
I look at today, with an unclear lense
A familiar scene to all who walk this lovely
Spot, as into view close by the river path
Comes something which is not
The usual day-to-day. All who pass her pause,
Then stop to gaze on Haguthorn's display,
Beyond any season's best this year
And many pose a selfy, or compose
Admiring shots. Two neigbour trees
Beside the Thames compete,
In different ways, though one outshines
The other with its beauty on display.
A thousand crimson berries deck this finer
Necklaced tree, which is barren of all leaf
As admirers plainly see, while beside this jewelled
Haw Is a Holly fully wreathed, yet without her
Scarlet trophies, save for one or two beneath.
The cameras and the selfies look for one
Shot in their lense, the one which bears
Abundant fruit is posted to dear friends.
It's Hawthorn hedge still keeps to shape
The fields and country lanes, while Holly only
Decks the halls and then comes down again.
Haw berries heal the weakened heart
and gladden hearts with wine.
Haw adorns spring with bridal gown
And sustains the winter singing thrush
Though holly seems the finer crown
It's thrown by end of Christmas rush.
When all season's fuss is come and gone
Haw's bearing of abundant fruit
Gains true 'welcome!', and 'Well done!'
His name was Timothy Treadwell, aka The Grizzly man.
He was a naturalist who had a very strong love for the grizzly bears of our land.
He alone at times would chase off poachers to protect his animal kin.
How ironic that the very beast that he loved so much would one day come to kill him.
One day he got fed up with the people world and sought solace in the land of the bear.
It was just before hibernation time. The worst time to be there.
Any bears not hibernating weren't because they hadn't been fully fed.
That is why, he came to die when a hungry bear killed both he and his girlfriend dead.
Whereupon they'd ignore him in the past, now they had to satisfy their fast.
One bear crossed paths with he and she one night, and saw them both as a culinary delight.
His camera was rolling but the lense was covered, still one could hear very clearly the audio.
The bear attacked him first. He screamed out to Amy, "Amy, get out of here, go!"
She would not abandon her man. She grabbed a frying pan and beat it atop the bear's head.
That's when the grizzly bear turned on her and rendered poor Amy dead.
The bear was tracked and killed. An autopsy revealed Timothy and Amy's body parts.
If Timothy could know that this bear was killed it most certainly would have broken his heart.
I spoke with him once briefly and told him to be careful. "You do sometimes cross the line."
"I appreciate your concern," he replied, "but I know what I'm doing. Everything will be fine."
Many say he was crazy, and maybe perhaps he was losing his mind towards the end,
but I learned so much about grizzly bear behavior, that I'd have never known if not for him.