Poems Writings

pictures

“When I look at my old pictures, all I can see is what I used to be but am no longer. I think: What I can see is what I am not.” 

Aleksandar Hemon, The Lazarus Project

pictures

 

carved in time,

stilled

in space,

on the spectrum

of what we were

 

array of lights,

pixels

of frozen moments,

they stare

and gaze

back into your present

 

they live 

on the webs, we have weaved

to seek validation

for an altered past,

that you once held

for a moment

 

their purpose

to remind 

a rosier you

or

to pretend

a better you?

 

am i enough 

moving through time

in my body of bones and flesh?

 

or shall i distill

this body

in frames of

a highfalutin beauty?

do you like taking pictures of thyself?

 

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3 Comments

  1. This was beautifully written! Very true 🙂

  2. LOVE this! The ending question makes me finger snap across the internet! Great piece!

  3. I liked your post not only because of the possibility of further distilling, but because I live in a culture that demands pictures and selfies be taken of everything (meals, excruciatingly boring daily minutia). I twist myself into knots avoiding situations where people might want to take my picture. I hide in my house and office. I view pictures as evidence of where, when, and with whom I was behaving in ways not suitable for the public.

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