Emptied fruit crates
For a mattress
Battered and broken stool
For a pillow
A bed unfit
For the delicate senses
And sensibilities
Of a princess
Ah
But for a king?
Ample slumber
In deepest repose
Emptied fruit crates
For a mattress
Battered and broken stool
For a pillow
A bed unfit
For the delicate senses
And sensibilities
Of a princess
Ah
But for a king?
Ample slumber
In deepest repose
Click a pic
From a speeding taxi
Crossing Jakarta
Months later
While editing
Curiosity piqued
Google “KETOPRAK”
Now I wish we’d stopped
And tried one
A journey
Once begun
Never ends
Overlapping
Those that follow
With belated discovery
But no regrets
For just another
Missed opportunity
In a moment of sizzle
Humming fan blades
And the thrum of traffic
She waited
For some tasty tidbit
I couldn’t make out from the taxi
She thought about yesterday
And tomorrow
Last week and next month
She thought about everything
But this moment
And the tasty thing sizzling
Or the next moment
When the tasty thing would mercilessly
Burn her tongue oh so deliciously
But…
Who’s to say any of this is true?
I was just a photographer living in the frame
Capturing serendipitous moments from a moving taxi
And now I’m just a poet
Listening to the words as they come
Trying to give them their moment
So all of it is fiction
Or maybe some of it is the truth
Though, hopefully
I’ve created something
Which at least
Speaks truly
Even if
It only speaks truly
About the act of creation
Or maybe, the story
Is just saying something truthful
About the creator
ATGATT
All The Gear
All The Time
Helmet
Face shield
Gloves
Ankle high boots
Padded jacket
And pants
At home
By law
Helmet & eye protection
Here too
Helmet
At least
Eye protection
If travelling
Over 50km/hr
Compliance
In Jakarta
Sketchier than home
Even for children
But not for masks
Priorities
Can be
Confusing
Imaginary
Lines crossed in the car’s back seat
Dad arm from the front
I wonder if I’ve ever been
The subject of someone’s
Best photograph of the day
But never found out
Like this fellow here
On the third shot of eleven
Who never looked up
So never saw the camera
Pointed out the taxi window
Capturing this delightful moment
Colours and edges
Splashes and blur
Nothing to see
But for the eyes
A turn of a head
And just enough detail
This would be a discard
X’d out on a contact sheet
But for those eyes
Because now I want to know
What she sees
No matter the venue
Play always looks like play
In a place of otherness
I revel in the sameness
That is two girls taking selfies
On a sunny Sunday afternoon in the park
Accompanied by song and food, and laughter and play
Gentle lines
In weathered stone
A beauty marked
By time
Patinaed, etched
Distressed
By life and the elements
Beautiful all the more