Photographer . Part-Time Creative . Blogger

My Philosophy

All the minutes and hours lost and found gathered into a hill
Time saved from the clutch of the clock’s greedy hands
Fate and sheer luck did help sometimes
And now from the top of this ever-growing mound
I scan the territory of frozen memories left behind
Looking forward from this self-made vantage point
I can see the river but not yet the ferryman

They say with a grin and a smirk
Don’t you worry, from here it’s all downhill
From all the saved and cherished moments of the past
Like twigs thrown at the embers to rekindle the fire
I feed my dwindling hopes to the flames of time
With the silver spoon I kept from my early days

A sea of shiny pixels with hardly a wave
But under the superficial calm of its face
Fever burns as all the fires in hell
Souvenirs are the pallbearers
That will bring my shards to this shore
And finally set aflame my wrecked incarnation on a pyre

The yellowing images we call photographs
Are the legacy of our Afro-Egyptian origins
To wrap ourselves in a mummy-like shape
To conjure the run of time in space
We fear the end of this unstoppable race
But death is a mere door we will have to open
Our fear is about the unknown
That lies beyond the threshold

The Lady of the Southern Sycamore
Is waiting for us by the tree
To apportion our eternal reward
With our deserved share of light

There is no real unknown
The knowledge of our deeds
Lies deep within our hearts
Good and evil never fail
In their ironclad identity
They are the two faces
Of the same coin
The legendary talent…