lloviendo

a poem, some unedited rain, and a slice of plath

salamancastreets

i woke to the sound of rain
― sylvia plath, the bell jar

see me

the face

in the rain

see me

the fingers

on the pane

see me

before

i am

wiped

away


*one of a series of shots made in salamanca with my ancient olympus om10, with zuiko 50mm f/1.8 lens, and loaded with ilford xp2 super ISO 400 film*

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story

‘whispered something in your ear
it was a perverted thing to say
but I said it anyway
made you smile and look away’
– lyrics from ‘nothing’s gonna hurt you baby’, cigarettes after sex


once upon,
a time
each story
began

in gentle tones
no broken bones

later,
gingerbread,
blood red
tales of death
and terror

stalked my,
dreams

later, still
each story
began, in torchlight
and fright

what right,
had i

and now,
each story,
ends before,
it begins

as life,
unwinds


for wordpress weekly photo challenge – story
*image shot in salamanca, españa, with fujifilm x100f with 23mm (35mm fill frame equivalent) lens at ISO500, f/4 and 1/300s with added effects applied in analog efex pro 2*

(a) face (in the crowd)

Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
– Sylvia Plath

A face in the crowd, for the WordPress Weekly photo challenge

in his

eyes

not (under), his

eye

what will,

unfold,


*shot with fujifim x100f with 23mm (35mm fixed frame equivalent) lens at ISO1600, f/5.6 and 1/170 at the tate modern in London*

serene

Death, therefore, the most awful of evils, is nothing to us, seeing that, when we are, death is not come, and, when death is come, we are not.
– Epicurus

we chase it
for eternity
yet, what do we lose

in our (endless)

chase
for, that
serene

(moment)

and
can
we find
it
before that
door

closes?


a dark slice of poetry for wordpress weekly photo challenge – Serene

*shot with fujifilm x100f with fixed 23mm (35mm full frame equivalent) lens at ISO1250, f/4 and 1/60s*

stranger

. . .sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that?
‘Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are’
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

stranger, in a strange land

plucked from the earth

roots ripped

torn

stranger, in a strange land

plucked

ripped

torn

stranger, in a strange land

you, smell

so

sweet


stranger