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Camera Verse

A creative collaboration of Poetry and Visual Art between friends....

was how she counted the days of her foregone times,
with disdain was how she calculated the lost beatings of her pulses. Suffocated was how she divided the rueful emotions of her senses in whole, painful was how she multiplied the hours of her mournful existence In fraction was her happiness, in ratio, was she valued. By the number was how she treaded on the path of her pallid living, . . .but by the number she won't again exist - she won't again be chained, to anyone's strings and equation. © Sharon Dina Rose Regala 2020

Image Courtesy of Carl Scharwath Photography/Art

This is humannequin
Standing at the table on the fringes looking on
At life's full servings
But forgoing on a supping
It is trite to think that I must sit on the edge of my seat
And be greet and make merry
And look happy
While feeling like flattened cardboard
While my eyes stray to the sides
Yet I am faulted for unwrapping my insides
And leaving my hair
And looking at my friends' soul
A feeling follows me to the very end
Why didn't I listen to its voice.

© Shanti Harjani-Williams 2020

Image Courtesy of Carl Scharwath Photography/Art


Quick dry blood Absorbs itself under graphic tees
That make believe the man is the myth
The legend runs adrift in naked storefronts
On doors that close behind
They claim for the universal good
Sprinting behind the man is his double
He who once ran the race alone
Now tied up in knots with his own
All standing in the same room
A likeness of himself.

© Shanti Harjani-Williams
Image Courtesy of Carl Scharwath Photography/Art

Camera Verse
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