Photography

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There’s this blog  Called Humans of New York Created by a photographer  Who walks through New York City Stopping people on the street,
You say you take pictures of the things you love the most, I smile and nod as you take a picture of the sky, yet you've never taken pictures of me.   Albums and albums full of skylines across the coast,
To you it might not seem a lot And to you he cannot give it thought But for every little thing you do He owes his entire world to you.
Just because I am a darker skin color I am not ghetto I am not out of what's "acceptable" I am not white washed I am more intelligent than you think Just because I am nonexistent in your household
Eve Edgar Power Poetry 23 September 2018 Winter Weather
Pictures Say A Thousand Words By: Audrey Forte   You could say a thousand words but a picture can say them faster. Frame by frame, and day by day
World’s finest grain at four hundred speed  film, película, pellicola  Radiant strip of gelatin plastic  incasing the pattern of dawn curtain light onto craning neck.
World’s finest grain at four hundred speed  film, película, pellicola  Radiant strip of gelatin plastic  incasing the pattern of dawn curtain light onto craning neck.
I am a Photograph   I am the slip of paper on the top shelf, The blotch of color in between slabs of plastic, The secret behind glass.   I am the beginning, and I am the end of every tale.  
The black device in my hands, Clicks and shutters with each snap. It sees the world for what it truly is, A still of beauty entrapped.  
We talked of prized cheese as if cheese was our master in the great disaster of us,   Then mind spent, W(H)INE spent on dreams only a fool would leave behind we passed our own tests on our own
In the wake of thingswe surrendered below cutting cloudsyou to me, me to the reign of ages. In a moments timethe world was bornour love's deathtook decades to complete.
Delving into your personaI danced on tips of grassthat tickled my feetuntil my heart laughed long before your hissy fitsrendered me into a small black box
Side A Find me on the flip-sideWhere vague percussionsTap below quarter-tones.
Dear Troy, I want to take you back Back to that October morning  When you rode on the back of that flatbed, freezing, trembling Remember how the vicious air whisked against your face
“I’m sorry.” Muttered softly. Keep your head down child, Don’t you dare cry. Showing weakness is not an option, Not if we want to get out of here intact. We stand side by side,
"Just a second," the typical reassuring lie I spoke aloud I stopped more frequently than I had been walking. At first they would wait for me, But after a while it was simply no use to wait for another person
Men glide like ghosts, Blending into the shadows Of a darkened world.   The rain-laden air was palpable, Heavy on the tongue and  Dampening the hair and Leaving cool droplets on the skin.
You see the world the way my eyes could never see it You bring light to darkness and find beauty where it is unseen The way your heart beats at the moment of my touch I am sorry, I won’t always mirror,
I am sorry, But you cannot look through these lens again My friend, I have seen it fall to the bitter ground The darkest tar, The sound still echoes within the carved halls of my heart.
By: David Avery The universe is full of magnificent things And there is no way but journeying through the World, and opening your mind, to see it. Awe-some things like the sunset at night,
Put the camera to my face, The world is just an image. I can capture what I want, And leave out all the baggage.   Put the camera to my face, The world is just an image.
You can catch it in the flow, or you can catch it in the slow. Either way, its composed of opposites, yet these opposites are still prominent. We capture photographs with our eyes, such as the beauty of a firefly. 
Click “ON”   A clickKk A Snap! A little twist in just the right place   If a picture paints a thousand words
My imagination chauffeurs my sensation. Safely to where? I don’t care.   Afar from my fears, and my worthless tears. Keeping my thoughts from my battles fought. In the rain to ease the pain.
The light, the dark, the shade. There's no bette feeling than knowing our place. eventually, somehow, without trying, it slowly starts to fade away. Before the memory fades, I capture it. Flash before my eyes,
I see it with my eyes I look away from the lies I capture that moment in the small box I call a camera.   But when everyone looks at me, some see a werido, a creep.
  It takes one day of seeing the gallery That's when the camera discovers you It knows you won't do it for a salary This happens because it knows you'll pursue   My eyes are always wandering
I’m stranded on a deserted island with nothing else to do Except to look beyond the horizon across the ocean blue. If only I had my camera. If I had my camera, I would never be alone
To capture all sights, I'd bring my camera--what's a life without it?        
I am not myself without a camera in hand. Whether in the snow or lying in the sand. The colors move me Like a branch on a tree. A beautiful scene in my fingers. Gives me a feeling I hope lingers.
I am...behind the lens. Listening, looking, learning. Viewing life at every angle. Visiting past memories. Loving, laughing, living. I am The Photographer.    
Here but never seen Hide behind the camera I am a coward   Stuck in a small world Yearning for new adventures
If art is happiness, what do you when you can't make art? For six long years I've captured beauty around me with a click From the begining of my craft it all started with a click
There is a moment when time stands still. The earth stops rotating, and there’s no need to Breathe. In the magic of this moment we discover
A breeze, trembling as it channels down through the trees,    Articulates itself to me as talking leaves sail from the higher bodies of nature.   
A kid who just wants to be heard Someone who wants success Others look at him and say oh my he's blessed They don't know the pain, the problems Of always wanting to be the best His parents are proud of him
Who wants to be like me? They say I am not popular They say I am far from perfect Without the makeup Without the filters I am me And on the inside I know that I am perfect
People appear as though everything about them is black and white,
The world is full of hate and anger, These things tend to berate and linger, Be cautious ye, the Instagrammer, Don't post pics that make thee stammer. In fact my friend, open your eyes,
I am merely an average girl with a passion for fashion, Photography is life, And so are filters.   Realistically, I am a simple girl without filters, Or maybe, a beauty-queen who needs a little edit.
When Blue Reflects Upon Waves   I’m staring, always staring, forever staring, No focus in sight, yet a bright future yields token, Novel, arguably plausible possibilities.
Onto the South face, my mind is a yearning flake, nude and bare I am.
I wake to photography, I love the outdoors, the scenery, The nature located only two feet away... But when I open the door, I don't find myself at home, I find myself in a place I could only ever dream of,
Summer slips away and we students rush in to the facilities that torment us so. We'll spend hours a day in chairs of stone, forced to learn things we don't wish to know.
A young child, excited for the world. A mother, brimmed with envy, says to she, "My you're getting chubby, little girl!"   Suddenly, the world was cruel, and the world was vicious.
   My eyes are stars
The buildings crumble slowly Cement walls expose once hidden dark red bricks Those who slowly crawl past the scene see the structure’s open wounds
A window i
My eyes see the world In ways different than yours Forming ideas, designing images This is the gift I was given Turning what you see into art Frames, collages, canvasses And one day
capturing moments within my dream world as they strut down the catwalk like ferocious felines willing to share my vision on magazine spreads
One Job Could Change My Life
I watched closely… Nature inspires, destroys, and sustains life; Unimaginably kind yet dangerous- All at once   I could capture these mixed feelings I could understand… I want to understand…
    One Job Will Change My Life The Power of a Picture By: Paige Davenport  
To be a successful photographer is every artists dream To have your own subjects and a little camera team To make big bucks doing what you love To be able to look up at the sky and thank the lord above
I dream all the time 
There’s a faded, torn pictureMy grandma lovingly tapedOf the day she stood in front of old AbeAnd with thousands of othersCheered for a dreamA dream full of hopeThat we wouldn’t see
Eyes like a shutter Mind like a lense I capture the memories so that they don't fade or blend
What if I travled the world? No, I want more. What if I showed my world the real world around them? What if it were just me A camera and some luggage In a warzone maybe
we see in colors made by black and white we take photos in color we do everything digital yet we forget about the past where nothing was digital where we used film to record memories
Photography is easy. I could do that…all you have to do is click a stupid button.  Why do you find it so important?
I sit by watching the world turn Round, round, round. I see the prom queen crowned, The football team reign. Everything and nothing seems to revolve around me.  
And somewhere between those pictures was the day you left.
A child lay still on the hard ground with no chance of life Click A girl lay with a possible bruised and battered because of human trafficking Click There’s one less life on earth because of suicide Click
When it is between white and color it's all over the news, But when its black against black it gets no views! This is normal just like sinners behind pews. How is the stench of dead boys on the streets nothing new?
You missed it, everything looks wrong, that there doesn't fit, the moments gone.   The angles off, the flash is too bright,
  I could be a writer. But I much prefer photography. Yet don’t they say that photos are worth a thousand words? All I have to do is put those words onto non-light sensitive paper. But I don’t because
A photo portray a story ,  People happy , together and well .  You only see that story ,  No idea if they feel the same . I take pictures because they do not change . 
This book will bleed no blood Only the shrieks of my inner ambition and concept Raw vision. I am a conceptualist and a realist with a superficial story behind my self esteem.
In the beginning, There was a God for all A fierce parent Loving and righteous. But men bent him In their own image- A lily-white God with blond hair Fair and beautiful And biased.
Imagine. An artist that shows the world through pictures. Snapshots depicting the full range of human emotion. Hiding all sense and feeling behind the white plastic frame of a slowly developing Polaroid.
Sometimes the world narrows down to that tiny rectangle I am peering through. Light, color, and sound all originate from inside it. Nothing exists outside of this box.
I am the object of your affection tantalizing your obsessions To you I am an image to some I am a mirage To me I am nothing Shoot me because I am beautiful Capture my flesh within each pixel
What makes a photographer good? Patience, settings, or things that would, make people stop dead in their tracks, to observe with the wonder the photos that catch, the five human senses as well as the thoughts,
I'm what?!? Oh you say i'm weird as in erie, different, or abnormal, right? Does it bother you.... you know, that i'm not like you or your crew Am i offending you? Well sorry to hear that!
Everything used to be so black and white Suits that men wore, the color on a T.V. screen, The photographs that took hours to print. But so were the beliefs of our countrymen. It was either black or white—no gray area.
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