Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Tuesday, October 02, 2012

Oct 2: The Photographer


I frame pictures with my camera,
narrowing down to one angle of direction, colors bisecting;
always I seek some indefinable balance,
some essence of the scene,
some inner truth.
They tell me I am good at taking pictures, but I know
it is only because I no longer paint.
I still see the outstretched finger, Adam to God,
Michelangelo’s perfectly realized straining to perfection,
that icon of so many that floats on a ceiling
you have to crank your neck back to see,
yet I love how Eve snuggles next to God.
Too bad she doesn’t carry a camera.
Her view would be incomparable.


"The Creation of Adam" by Michelangelo (source: Wikipedia Commons). Notice Eve sheltered by  the left hand of God.

I've taken on the challenge of a poem a day for OctPoWriMo. Read what others have written here: Or jump over to Sunday Scribblings where this week's prompt is "creativity."

3 comments:

  1. Ha! Wouldn't it, though? I absolutely loved this. I, too am a photographer and I can appreciate your description from the artist's point of view. Excellent punch line. Looking forward to reading more of your poems.

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  2. Wow! I never realized that was Eve there. How fantastic. Love, love, love what I read here, once again! Hey, is Sunday Scribblings your creation? I used to visit (and write) there a lot.

    Do you ever post your photographs? I would love to see some.

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  3. That made me smile, it's such a wonderful picture with just the quietest bit of sorrow in the middle "because i no longer paint".

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