Viewed Thro’ The Lens

It’s a funny world,
Viewed thro’ the lens
Distorted, sharpened,
Pixelated perfection
A real world?
The camera never lies
But what of
the photographer?

Observed Schoolgirl

She stands upon the wall
Her hair hanging –
A projection of the morning mist
about her expectant eyes.
The coldness enhancing her presence…
On tip toes
A grey clothed soul
she stands like an angel of the cemetery
Seeking her friends
Who, delayed,
Will find their way to
Meet…
The schoolgirl by
The Bus stop…

Martin addison, 18/03/2013

That Bridge

It’s bugging me…
That Bridge
Popping up when least expected
Appearing in the middle of my day
Or in last night’s dream
A monolith of brick and iron
On the edge of concious thought
Challenging, Urging,
Daring me to cross it
Asking if I’m ready for
The other side…

That bridge…
How I damn it as it damns me
Ever present in my thoughts
A well of gravity trying,
Pulling, me in
A shadow crossing my path
A path that
I have yet to walk
Who says you must pay the ferryman?
When there’s
That Bridge…

Martin Addison – 07/03/2013