Skip to main content

A PHOTOGRAPHER'S HEART by Isabelle Andres

This poem was originally inspired by one of my dolls, Raphael…

I am one of those grown-ups with a rather creative inner child and I happen to love dolls and the creative spheres around them. Yet, I was quite surprised to see that my dolls could inspire my poetry!

This poem has always been about photography, but it started being about my doll, Raphael, and what it meant for him to be a photographer. But then, writer’s block hit and that was when the he became a she. I began to realize the poem was also about me, for I am a bit of Raphael and he is a bit of me, even though he is more than me, and I am more than him. And so, as I was writing the poem, the he became a she!

The poem traveled along its journey and yet it somehow still remained soulless. That is when I realized that the poem was about us: what it meant to us—apprentice or professional photographers— to photograph. So the he/she became a photographer’s heart and the poem came to life.

A Photographer’s Heart
by Isabelle Andres

In a photographer’s heart,
shooting becomes loving,
the inanimate comes to life,
capturing becomes freeing,
the shy invisible is in the spotlight.

It captures time;
Life and death in translation.
A flipping moment,
a record of passing seasons,
an ephemeral instant.

It captures space:
That below your nose,
the distantly close,
that which is beyond your scope,
the closely away.

It captures you:
Your emotions,
a transient sensation,
a feeling in explosion,
your gaze,
an invitation in a secret,
into your depth,
into your self.

All is for ever embroidered
in the canvas of its heart.
All is for ever imprinted,
in the films of its photographs.

Your Once upon a time,
becomes your Forever now,
in the digital spaces,
in cybernetic places.

For all these non-lasting moments,
are but your own past, future and present.
For one of your shortest instants,
could well be one of your richest moments,
and that, a photographer’s heart knows well!


Isabelle Andres: A few years ago, I decided to embark on a new journey, a rather personal one, one of self-discovery and so I began to let go of all I once was to become all I am and will be. Along the way, I have discovered myself a passion for photography, writing, reading and dancing amongst many other things. I find my inspiration in Nature and contemporary art and I love to explore the creative and spiritual spheres. From introspective journaling I somehow began to venture in the land of poetry. My first poem came to me whilst I was absorbed as I often am in a moment of Nature contemplation. Recently I have begun to venture in the land of fictional writing and I now secretly dream that one day I will be the proud author of a novel. I can be found on my website Belle Pan’s Maze and on my writer’s page on Facebook.

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I AM STILL HERE by Janavi Held

EDITOR'S NOTE:

This was composed by a very gifted and beautiful soul: a regular contributor to our poetry project, and dear friend of mine, Janavi Held, whose life is gradually being taken from us by an incurable illness. She has been suffering from Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and Internal Adhesions for six painful years now, and neither her insurance nor the government healthcare will help her. She reaches out to us, her sisters, as a last plea. This is a poem she wrote yesterday on her birthday, in which she offers us the gift of her friendship. May it touch your generous hearts and inspire you to reach out to her in her plight.


Dear Friends,

The last time I was able to leave the house was by ambulance on my way to the hospital. After many long hours in the emergency room I was admitted and taken upstairs. After everyone left I sat on the hospital bed, knees to chest, bracing my body against the pain and trembling.

The light of this cold day was fading. I turned my eyes to the la…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Depression
Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…