Camera Obscura
I originally called this piece “Reality Questioned”, however that seemed rather a cliché. Our reality is being changed for us: Some say the result of our meddling with Nature and disturbing the environment of animals, but I believe it is much more than that. We are fearing the tiniest or floating particles in the air, yes, but we are also being forced to change the very everyday aspect of our lives… and are seeing things through new eyes.
I woke this morning on a breath
That came from somewhere unknown.
The room became lit with opal light
Threatening my sense of presence.
The window view was Winter-bleak and wet,
void of so much green; untidy too.
Pareidolia was everywhere,
In shadows, bushes, holly trees.
Life seemed to have completely changed.
(Strange thoughts are not uncommon
At my stage of life and living.)
Much solidarity is being stripped –
Like the leaves off the trees –
And all about is uncertainty,
Unsound ground, new disorder –
Why, even death is in the air!
Yet I am not with despair,
Insanity, or mental ‘fracticality’,
Or loss of my essential core.
The season of good cheer is here
In my World of changeability,
Covid, and fragmenting democracy.
Only my soulmate will raise a glass
Over a vegetarian Christmas pie.
And there will be a tear in my eye
For all the scenes that are banked
In the mystic ‘ecstatic’ records.
There’ll be none other to share a toast
Within the range of my physicality.
These others, and the whole outer world –
Beyond my glassy auric armour –
Could all be imaginary,
souls and manifestations
I watch within my camera obscura,
Whilst I am occultly seated
In some mighty directorial chair,
Painting a suppositious scene
that seems suddenly…
Upside down.
Griff,
Enjoyed reading your creation.
We are all to some extent directing the orbit of our lives, and trying to avoid colliding with the other directors, real or imagined, out there, whether stimulated by pareidolia or not.
As long as we breathe and can enjoy the limited time we spend on the earth that’s all that matters. And even if it is imaginary, lets enjoy the beauty of breathing itself.
Bhi
Thank you for taking the time to comment, Bhi, it is much appreciated.
I also appreciate your thoughts on the subject matter. Perhaps why we do not have cognitive style to our ‘painting’ is to prevent us being egotistically selective as to the direction we steer our direction.
Unfortunately I have never been able to breathe in a reality that is without an intriguing nebulous window – the attraction to which seems to have dominated my life from an early age. 🙁 or 🙂 as the case maybe. 😉
Allen
Allen,
I like the thought of having “an intriguing nebulous window”. I hope that we get a lot more masterly pieces of creativity while you’re gazing through it!
all the best
bhi
That is extraordinarily kind of you to say. Thank you.
My creative juices don’t seem to be in full flood at the moment because of a lot of outer world preoccupations.
Appreciatively, Allen
My you love your botany. This makes me think (again and often) of neural plasticity and what we will be after a year of trauma and mental rewiring. At least your beloved greenery will retain its essence.
What a lovely observational comment, Mentalelf. Thank you. It is really appreciated. I have a hunch that neural plasticity is the built-in survival mechanism of the and/or loop in which we constantly find ourselves. I suspect that without it, we would uncontrollably vacillate and expire. My home is surrounded by nature and plants: Deer come visiting the ‘garden’, wild boar roam at night, owls ululate and swoop around the trees – I am constantly having to keep Nature from reclaiming my greatly loved and appreciated patch. It is yet another manifestation of the ‘painting’ that I alluded to, yes. Blessings… Read more »
it’s difficult to add a comment on a poem whose at least three key-meanings were used for poems you also wrote, it’s all a poetic dialogue really, which is destined to remain largely unexpressed.
I can only say I liked how you wrote it. Cheers!
Nothing new, you mean. Well, I must confess to be preoccupied by something in the physical at the moment, and maybe it is making me fixate on notions.
Blessings and love, Allen x
when I wrote my poems talking about the opal aspect the presence etc I didn’t think I was writing something new and I am not writing for such reasons, I am always certain others have similar ideas but each has his own way of saying it, originality which most of us have stems from our Voice, our Style. The ideas are already there, we just have to find them and create. Thanks