Thursday, August 9, 2007

the Photo Muse - METAL MEN

The Muse discovered, 'pon one day,
The toys that men n'tertain.
And gladly went, with box to say,
No holds barred, no refrain.

Of note to muse, on day of steel,
Was cheap is not all bad.
The lens of kit, I almost feel,
Saved many shots, muse Glad!

Nay, lens of kit, not in muse' bag,
He opt for other then.
Of Sigma lens, he does now brag,
And voice it's praise with pen.

These Men of Metal tough as nails,
Resilient to the force.
Of gravity that never fails,
Methinks, perhaps divorce?

For nerves of steel to reach such heights,
Some go with spouse in tow.
Perhaps the fear of spouse cause fights?
This Muse shall never know.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Winters' Woes of 2007

In Winter time, when voids exist, Of colour, life mundane,
The macro lens, it does persist, To render yet, t' inane.

In Erect Defect, the poor stand proud, A Splash of greens persist.
It shouts it's fame, and does quite loud, While others hence, resist.

The Ghosts of Summers Past all dance, To song of hues, await
They fade into the distance, trance, And wait upon their fate.

The Colour Void, it bears no soul, No witness of it's prey.
Suspended sport, the patient hole, They wait for such fine day.

The promise of new life, prevails, In Ochre Ovaries.
And as it's been, it never fails, Nature ne'er to "freeze".

Our Spiral Spawns, upward it goes, It looks toward it's right.
At reach of end, upon tip toes, It one day flourish, might.

In Chroma Creep, amidst it's dull, and lifeless carpet holds.
A pose so grand, of untold wealth, Inherent beaut', unfolds.

The Kiss of Green, it sends the thought, To those that are behind.
Of promise, colour, all not nought, One day they will have shined.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

the Photo Muse - GLASS

The box of choice of muses' shots,
of subjects far and near,
Requires optics, plug in, lots,
For pics so crystal clear.

The optics, nay, the "glass" of buy,
Ful-fill each their own need,
The coins submit', they make us cry,
But purpose, yes, Indeed!

At point, this time The Muse possess
a bevy of said "glass"
The likes of which not rich nor grand,
Type which others well may pass.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

the Photo Muse - BOX

Some wonder may and rightly so,
The Muse, his tool of choice?
The input of the florals, glow,
What gives them all their voice?

The thoughts of muse, all captured here,
Were made with box, just one.
Seem end of life, dawn, this box near,
Dee-five-oh, from Nee-kon


This box of pic it does Muse well,
and gets the job done, short.
The art is in the eye?
For many seen the Muse can tell,
with box of varied sort,
Some pics theirs, do not fly.

The voice that runs,
around the 'net,
Of more MP and like.
Is oh such fun,
to witness pet,
And anger no doubt, hike!


Debate that rages to the dawn, of what to buy,
What's next?
Cause Muse to yawn, and heave a sigh,
leave tot-ally, perplex't.

For as I see it at this time, and pity some
The task it lies at hand,
To make fresh pic sublime, do come,
I cannot understand.

The coin is turned, and wait more days,
For tree of techno new.
No pic feel barren, Muse now says,
Go hence, and buy, please do.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

the Photo Muse - THORN

The muse requests at first you read, The page of intro here,
and from there go yes do proceed, Abandon peril, fear.

So from the intro now being past, We ask the question, why?
The muse of photo climbs this mast, Alone in here, to fly.

The mast he climbs is from ill fate, From sites of net abound.
The writings of the muse met mate, With voices, loudly sound!

The feel the muse now carries plain, And what him has, now torn.
Is, is the nature of the world humane? Or merely side with thorn.

For in the musings of this Bard, Where effort been made great,
The most proclaim, village retard! And seal forthright his fate.

And so it comes to pass this day, That muses' name be borne.
And carries on his merry way, Alas, alone, forlorne.

The muse of photo would ask thee, If soul of yours have move.
To pen the thought, give voice, be free, And join into this groove.

The comment choice it is below, Your voice it may give weight.
Go forth, and click, do not be slow, Lest Muses' end, is fate.

One question that the muse MUST ask, And answers, please be plain.
Is this of normal manner, task? Or muse he are insane?

the Photo Muse - ANNOUNCE

There came one day a man of art, Who stuck in rhyme be caught ,
And took upon a task from heart, Photography be taught!

Invited in the ones that cared, Their thoughts with his unite
The joy photography, well shared, The advent of this "knight".
The art of floral captured most, has been this artist's deed
To those that share the joy, a toast! And carry forth our seed.

The Muse of Photo greets you all, that stumble 'pon this link
And wishes you come back, enthrall, with photo, make you think.

the Muse, himself

Muses of things photographic, and of life,seen by all each day.