Poem - Pictures Proof

I've been actively doing photography since 2007. My first contradance pictures were taken in 2008. Look back at these, and then looking to the present, makes me think about the role that pictures have in our shared realities. The ones I took this week seem so real, but images from years past seem real too, but that reality is no more. What is real, and what can pictures tell us?


Pictures Proof
Poem for Day 045 – 20150215

In the moment,
all things seem eternal,
nothing more or less
than what we have now.
Nobody has gotten older,
no one has left this place.
Could it really be this way
or am I only wishing it were?

Recent pictures are my ally,
whispering their white lie:
nothing is changing here,
everything is as it was!
Last week, last month,
these pictures echo the now.
Fissures appear in the wall
between the now and then.

The veil has been raised,
but the fabric is thin,
cracks in our shared space,
with more pictures the clue.
We were younger once,
with people now absent by our side.
Do pictures reveal another moment,
as eternal as the one now have?

Reality is etched in sand,
on the time's tide swept beach.
It confirmed to you and me
by camera's remembering eye.
Calm the mind, all is well,
the moment is eternal nigh,
change is the only constant,
pictures proof of moments shared.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved

Poem - Swing Bug

This was my 02/12/15 posting... it somehow did not end up on my journals! 

I once had a tai-chi teacher who said he practiced his moves during the slow times at work. He had embodied his art and it possessed him at all times. I find myself in the same situation with swing. At work, shopping, or even when I’m taking pictures, the swing bug grips me and I’ve got to react.


Swing Bug
Poem for Day 043 – 20150212

You can tell I’ve got swing bug
from that way I move my feet
no matter where I might be
when I hear that swing jive groove.

The soundtrack popping in my head
features Nat King Cole playing the tunes.
Gyrate my body to that swing medley
when I straighten up and fly right.

Step step rock-step and then a twirl,
Right there in the grocery store.
That swing soundtrack plays in my head,
I should be still, but I dance instead.

Hanging at the laundry mat,
Sensual swing fills my head,
Strut my moves in front of all:
triple-step triple-step rock-step.

My coworkers shake their heads
when I imagine dancing with you.
A sugar push tuck turn with a whip
You’re on my mind with swing in my feet.

Pay me no mind if you see me
tap my feet and spin around.
I’ve got that swing bug, dancing fool
when I hear that swing jive groove.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved