He assumed they were just not used
to the intricate mechanisms of a
the Box Brownie camera.
Images of his young life never taken,
now cannot view him.
An undeveloped child, an unrecorded life.
At aged seven an awkward boy was caught
on an obligatory school photo.
Token evidence of a former existence.
After the demise of the Box Brownie
and two parental deaths,
several spools of undeveloped films
were brought to light,
though he knew that any faded moments
contained within them
would never be his moments.
He had long chosen not to be invisible,
or a victim to any closed
or shuttered window.
Bullies anywhere
They look like educated
Brains not develop.
He assumed they were just not used
to the intricate mechanisms of a Browning Box camera.
Images of his young life never taken.
An undeveloped child, an unrecorded life.
At aged seven an awkward boy was caught
on an obligatory school photo.
A sole token; evidence of a former existence.
Later friends shared images of their youth,
while parents beamed over shoulders.
Piles of recorded years as thick as decks of cards
were brought out and examined.
He gulped at the spontaneity of the fingers,
that clicked off every smile and giddy event.
After they died, death revealed
several spools of undeveloped films.
He knew that any faded moments
contained within them
would never be his moments.
He had long chose not to be invisible,
or a victim to any closed
or shuttering window.
on the edge
of this day
a monotone sky
rises dull
undeveloped
like all these rolls
of film
tucked away
in the drawer
sometimes
i want to peer
beneath the corners
see the negatives
exposed
remembering
each frame
of moments
captured
so long ago
develop
these memories
flash back
through the years
they hold
contained
yet sometimes
i 'm afraid
of the storms
and the rain
they may bring
like these clouds
enveloping
the horizon
this monotone
day
I've learned when you ponder, it disappears
the ruminations and consequence
it is like the question fails to exist
dust in the wind, fog in our mist
the editing, spliced, on the dark room floor
contorted images, a mask of horror
I would have settled once, but now I need more
it stays undeveloped, locked in a drawer
I tried to run, but could never hide
as all I feel explodes from inside
you see it all and let it slide
a few little lies and a compromise
my spirit leaves as the battle rages
you've read the book, studied the pages
a twelve step program, designed in stages
the truth always wins, and has for ages
Coolest or Hottest,
Nature expands,
As Rubber or Iron,
Stone grows,
As trees, human and animals.
Everybody distinct,
Differentiation
A barrier of knowledge,
Or cooperation
Develops as strange or known.
Attitudes and hobbies,
What was all about?
Nature
That expands as Rubber, Iron or Stones,
It grows
As trees, human and animals.
Mother nature cuddles us,
That is soft or hard or colorful
Everyone has distinctions,
A cycle of personal knowledge
And experience,
Everything, Human, Animal, Bird or planets
Having a path,
When they lose them,
They fall out off the track
And loose their existence.
Death is a Black hole,
Nature produces things only for a taste,
Death is a big eater.
Over the centuries,
Death eat all of us,
Hard and soft,
Colorful or colorless
Nobody saw a belly of Death.
But we have fight only for memories,
Or about-undeveloped dreams,
That nature never having an End.
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