I captured,
Shot,
Snapped,
Clicked them.
They were documentaries,
About fashion,
Landscape,
Fine arts,
Candid,
Action like sports,adventures,daring feats,
Corporate events,
Parties and weddings.
They were in different forms,
Glossy,
Enlarged,
Iconic,
Aerial,
Black and white,
Panasonic,
Contemporary,
Digital.
They recorded history,
Made an impact of sharing emotional truth,
Carried memories,
Held important documents,
Reproduced a moment,deep feelings,
Raised awareness against poverty,famine, abuses and disasters.
Reshaped public opinion on Government,
Conveyed emotions,moods, narratives,ideas and messages.
They are my Photographs.

There are no strings on these balloons
so instead lets just drift together
even if it's only for a moment
I'll be here with you
until you just
fly away

has no one ever told you that you’re the
most beautiful thing in the universe?
has no one ever told you that?
see
i find that so surprising.
because.
when i took a moment to stop being so
entranced with the way the light crystallizes
on the leaves of the hammock trees.
when i took a moment to take a moment
and look at you.
*******.
“oh
oh my god
why, aren’t you just the most beautiful thing
in the universe?”
aren’t you just the most beautiful thing
in the universe?
aren’t you?
my child eyes
the same oceans that have seen storms
my child eyes
must be newborn
because you
oh my goodness
you seem to float with the clouds way up
there in the blue abyss
hey,
can you toss down your string?
sweetness
i’d very much like to
join you

red yellow blue orange purple pastel
soaring up into the sky without a care in the world
no strings attached
nothing else in the air but clouds
and the calming, cooling, relieving sea breeze

balloons soaring up in the air
there's me among them
they take me away to a place
where nothing can touch me
where i'm free of worries

feather-light, up and up we go
at a pace smooth and slow
i close my eyes and listen to the sounds
a pianist's fingers dancing along the keys
with such grace, with such elegance

red yellow blue orange purple pastel
scattered across the cyan blue sky
with puffs of pure white clouds in the air
so soft, i imagine
as i close my eyes
as i soar into the sky

Too bad
Saint Valentine didn't weep
on the grave
you left in
heaven;

as you were
plucked
from the thousand poppies
of little lost girls
dressed in blue,
white, and
yellow.

and
even now, i know:
(that) you're not from here,
crying pink balloons
and little white
strings-

still attached to your eyes,
they
float right back up
and pop, when
they hit they sky,

and maybe,
maybe
it shows,
you just weren't built for
flying.

I was your balloon,
You had me so high.
My head overflated, filled to max capacity.
You couldn't have possibly known just how you made me feel.
My neck attached to a string clinched tight in the center of your hand.
Then all of sudden.
Pop.
You couldn't possibly have known how bad that hurt

I wrote previously about the electronic implications on the written word
But the smoothness of this pen upon paper has made me neutral on the subject
It's insanely intoxicating when your words flow onto the paper just as they do from your mind
Uninterrupted
But, death has a way of bringing you back to reality
A birthday, In which the birth boy has passed
Twenty four red balloons, caressed gently by the wind as they are carried beautifully skyward.
Red of passion
Red of love
Because twenty four is infinite
Also is the love and the friends you left behind
But we love you,
I love you
And we will forever follow you
Upon these rising currents
Like those twenty four red balloons.