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Submitted: September 4, 2009
Image Size: 252 KB
Resolution: 850×565

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Make:NIKON CORPORATION
Model:NIKON D70s
Shutter Speed:1/40 second
Aperture:F/6.3
Focal Length:18 mm
ISO Speed:800
Date Taken:Dec 12, 2008, 2:30:25 PM

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My Soul's Doorby `BenHeine

Photography / Conceptual

© Ben Heine || Facebook || Twitter || www.benheine.com
____________________________________________________

Taken near Brussels' Central Station (Belgium).

The above photo has been shot with the Samsung NX10,
provided by Samsung Electronics. Co., Ltd.
____________________________________________________

For more information about my artwork: info@benheine.com
____________________________________________________

I Am Mad

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

We are so bewildered doing blooms,
We are so foolish making drama;
While we concentrate of getting what comes,
All with a different karma;
The poem was suppose to be about
You, and also maybe a little about me;
But then came this part of self esteem and doubt,
That set it all going down the drain, free.
Oh here I am standing though still,
Can't escape the world I am living in;
But I think I am just a reckless will,
Dumping down the toilet all my former sins…

I shall rejoin you shortly,
Ever so fresh and new;
I shall live well and be,
Just like morning dew.
Horizons sit besides me,
Hiding its face for now;
Sooner or later I'll see,
Structures and ways of how…

Morning is breaking lose,
Night has begun to fall;
There are starts and through,
I can now see them all.
There are few don't and do's,
After the darkness is gone;
Hope to be losing my blues,
Before the night is done!

Come and join my madness,
While it's having some fun;
Just like the nature is fresh,
So shall it all continue on?
Words are a special bless,
Ever so fresh and new;
They are all more or less,
Being the same and true…

Whatever names you bear,
I shall be riddling in words;
Hope you do same and share,
Or be like a soul that's hurt.
After the darkness we fear,
I shall be enjoying a live;
With all the wordily tear,
That shall then soon arrive.

Respect my fair purpose,
And what I'm striving for;
In the garden like a rose,
That was never too sure.
I must go on with living,
Building on a madly wish;
There is so fruitless giving,
Like in life there always is.

--------------

The poem appeared on www.poemhunter.com/peter-s-quinn