Saturday, January 12, 2013

Two Artists: A Photographer & A Poet

The Arts

Featured here are the works of two artists whose works I like a lot. Angela Pereira has an eye for the unusual. She sees things that would otherwise go unnoticed. Not so long ago we were hanging out together, and she said to me, "Wow! That's a wonderful composition." It was a view from inside looking out through a window. I immediately whipped out my smart phone and took the shot. It was the same image I used for one of my recent poems, "Those There Before". Of course, since I took the shot, I took credit for the photograph. But all joking aside, as I said above, she has an incredible eye, which, if she is behind a camera, results in beautifully composed images.

The other artist, poet and painter Samuel Mann, writes some pretty thought-provoking stuff. His poems...(How should I put it?)...simply tickle me. Featured here is his poem, "Hope".

Enjoy the works of these two wonderful artists.

A Photographic Sampling 
Angela Pereira


Samuel Mann

Island of hope

Silhouetted by trees of cement
Where buttered dreams melt into toasts
And screaming pride in defiance
Plunges out of an open window,
Where the past is everything
But means nothing,
Where the future is inverted
But only vague memories are all
That’s left behind. 

My head is too light 
To confront the icy cold winds
Weighing into my ears,
Rifling through the gap in my collars;
A pair of worn out leather shoes
Pounding the softness of busy paves,
Tenderized by weary feet.

The gory impression of an artist
Trampled upon by his monstrosity
Created out of temptation,
What is normal to him
But to the red headed lady not,
Enthroned on her pedestal rim,
Tossing a silver insignia into the air,
To question whether the truth
Is cast in black and white?
Whether what is right is wrong,
Good is bad and vice versa?

The trouble with great thinkers,
Be it men or women,
They keep shifting the goal post
Every inch all the way,
Blinded by their sight to see both sides,
Turning everything they see
Into faceless illusions;
Like an old professor and his unfinished book,
Adrift in the mercurial tides of change,
Never sure if he has penned his last sentence.

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