Rust hovers in the past adding flavor to the present. Old tractors, trailers and factories dusted with rust are bookmarks from history, to be looked at again and again. I often say photographs of old architecture bring to life ghosts of the past: workers, farmers, designers and owners…; there’s a peace to it all… a rust in peace.…Continue
Long lost and timeworn, a worker’s shelter lost to the wrong space sits idle. On a gray day, with a gentle wind blowing throw the fading façade, a photographer stands still to absorb the ghostly presence of workers-past — their output long calculated in the Hilliard Mill’s account books: 1794 thru 2006, woolen goods, aircraft parts and furniture upholstery were produced in what is now the oldest wool mill in the United States.
The hourglass has turned time and time…Continue
Down lifts up once again. The view through the pines remains cluttered. The rain begins; memories fall like a new emotion. Walking in the open wind, the rain cries and worries. No such thing helps solve the once again.
Trying to change, words kept falling. Breathing hurt. The oceans rolled backwards. All was silent. Moonshine…Continue
Argentina, stop flirting with Panamanian penguins, someone holds your keys; lose control, dance a jig and boogie down Silk City’s Main Street, the haunted avenue of Jacob Cheney, George Marlow and the coolest of the cool crying for you — James M. Emmerling. Yes your way home is in all directions directed. Walk with me, talk with me, play your guitar, sing a tune and make it snappy, the throng of thongs and literary lunacy are sure to swoon, breakout in tears past…Continue
You see something for the first time and the familiarity haunts you. Faded brick, worn boards and overgrown bush revealing rusted magic call to you. A memory begins; a photograph becomes but a marker in time.
Walk with me…
In The December Grey
after Satan laughs
there will be no Vicodin today
In the parking lot a shadowy figure mumbled a kind of
hello. At first I thought him an hallucination, but with the
sun breaking through the bleakness and codeine deprivation
vice-gripping my brain, I recognized Gary's black onyx…Continue
All in all...
lost in empty spaces
a worn woman misdirects
her dropped phone call
to a different land
she is she so she says
walked to the door
past falling on her knees
she’s that way
she’s this way
mixed up, jumbled up
she really wants to…Continue