train rides

train rides

hitchhiking to these, my forgotten spaces

thumbs up to the clouds waiting for the train to catch that wind

the bell tolls silently so to those who listen

to those with no fear of letting go

i cradle my bag, my makeshift courage kit

to wander now needlessly to where the leaves blow, where they seem i shall fit

always the backseat traveler i still shan’t take the helm

for it not my eyes that lead, but my heart that swells

i follow where it takes me, perhaps to dead end roads

pulling out my kit with compass to direct me as best it knows

ye of little faith, the reclusive voice no more

for those journeys once forgotten i now ready the score

days absent of sunlight, of curtains drawn

now places me on this train, piercing through dusty windows all those what ifs now gone

IrisU2

I photographed this image along the Blue Ridge Parkway, Milepost 34. I categorized it within my abandoned photography as what you see here is the remnants of an old logging railroad. Although it is abandoned it is not forgotten and is visited quite frequently among hikers and travelers alike and offers a serene, picturesque moment to step back in time. Thank you for reading. For more of my nature and abandoned photography please visit my gallery here.

 

Listen to me read Train Rides 

 

lotus

lotus

 

in daily baths of melancholy

with no grand speed ascending

from caverns carved by nature’s creed

through muddy morsels a fairy born

a blushing pixie to the moon

a darkened path, unlikely guide

slow steps from its cocoon

unfurling petals as moon gods sing

the song of its mythical fate

to reach beyond those shallow graves

to cloudscapes in patient wait

Listen to me read Lotus

Journey’s End -Blackmill

During a visit to a botanical garden in North Carolina, I captured this image upon realizing that I had never seen a lotus flower in its habitat. I was mesmerized by this pond brimming with them and found myself after thirty minutes or so feet planted in the same position, daydreaming. These delicate beauties are born with magic and it floats to the surface with them. The aura of tranquility they emit for those that take the time to truly see their beauty and the resilience of their survival, simply put, is breathtaking.

To view more of my photography you may visit my Instagram page here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

lilacs and wine

lilacs and wine

fear my foe,

in every opportunity

to wane the wine of me

to pluck the lilacs i breathe


to drink this every possibility

that soaks my flesh

in feathery

fear my foe,

that tries
that lies

to ground this me

to clip my wings


this me that need not close her eyes

to hear the river sing

this me that finds her light

in darkest of night

for it is there (i know for i’ve heard it so)

where the silence

befriends the black bird

in solitary flight

fear my foe,

that mutes my reflection

that starves my every thought

casts out its anchor

in my tides of low

for fear my foe

my hard core lover

is not quite ready to let me go

       Nina Simone - Lilac Wine 

because

because

my plainness dreams in color from the burrows of its gray

because

my dullness reaches for the sun but becomes distracted by the raven’s wing

because

my quiet screams in novels yet refrains its syllables for the knowing oak’s embrace

because

my eau de nil grows thicker despite the worldly weeds that stay

captured this image during a visit with my camera to a cemetery (like i often do when traveling to someplace new) i find much comfort when walking through the quiet of a cemetery. it brings upon me a melancholy of moods where i am reminded just how short life is for us all. how so many of us spend it declaring oneself plain, boring, unworthy, (i struggle with this still). it is much easier said than done to recognize we are all different, we all offer something unique within ourselves that no one else possesses. but recognize it we must.

thank you for reading and for more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.

barter

barter

for it not for the incantation wielding me

to adjourn my eyes to the unlit of day

where the air smells different,

and the clouds, those unrestricted teardrops

fall willingly to my sides

the easiness that comes for some so easily would not stroke my anxiety

it is then, i for a time, become still

through a traveler’s eyes i reside

sailing upon the open sea

gazing up to the heavens, tracing constellations with Corvus as my guide

carving a path, filling pockets with celestial tokens

to barter with the seeds of the day

to forsake a Godspeed in me

Spirit of Life-Blackmill

i am ever thankful to have the ocean in my backyard as i often turn to her not so much to soak up the rays but to walk its shores, letting the salty freeness that clings to the air fill my lungs. it is then, like magic, a balance returns. i again am ready to take on the day and all its “seeds”

playing with grayscale this day at the beach paid off i think with this image and as a result carved these words from me.

thank you for reading and for more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.

chorus

the chorus

of a forest

meek

and how it seeds

an essence

forgotten

captured this image with my Canon T7 during a summer hiking trip along the Blue Ridge Parkway of the Blue Ridge Mountains. the shades of green easily found me in my own private hideaway, upon a sleepy hollow of steadfast dreams. for more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.

-just breathe-

opposition

opposition

i slip between the grains of you

to countless steps forward, in darkness imposed this landing

i fight with worlds that seem to go and bend

beyond our thoughts left now standing

a distant quake of loves of lives tunnel their webs about us

the battle cries from paths we chose a braiding of winds superfluous

a wildness clings to bruised skies above there meandering words left unattended

to drain the thoughts of happenstance and stake that which is befriended

a common ground of an understanding, of loners to the waking

of eyes to paths deemed monstrous roads

yet wait for us the making

tis not a journey written nor meant to be daintily transcribed

we need not search or wait for it for we shall know for once we have arrived

it is here that i slip between the grains of you

where courage need not be a guide

simply in that knowing

a destiny awaits there within, above and below to the other side

Who We Are-Electus

just breathe

metamorphosis: photography

metamorphosis: photography

Equally as beautiful as new life peaking from the earth during the spring, I am truly captivated by the colors and the absolute imperfections of trees shedding their dreams during the fall. I say this as ever since I was a child I’ve always thought of the falling leaves this way. Never to color inside the lines, no rules to follow, to simply just be. I found the following images I captured in my backyard precisely that.

For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here

just breathe