📷Travel Photography

OBLIQUE RAIN
Intersectionist Poems

VI

The conductor waves his baton,
And languid and sad, the music breaks…
It reminds me of my childhood, that day
When I played by a yard wall
Throwing a ball at it, which on one side had all of the theater is my yard, my childhood
Is everywhere, and the ball comes to play music
A sad and vague music that wanders in my yard
Dressed as a green dog turning into a yellow jockey…
(So quickly does the ball spin between me and the musicians…)
I throw it against my childhood and it
Passes through the whole theater that lies at my feet
Playing with a yellow jockey and a green dog
And a blue horse that appears above the wall
Of my yard… And the music throws balls
At my childhood… And the yard wall is made of gestures
Of baton waves and confused spins of green dogs
And blue horses and yellow jockeys…
The whole theater is a white wall of music
Where a green dog runs after my longing
For my childhood, a blue horse with a yellow jockey…
And from side to side, from right to left,
Where there are trees and between the branches near the treetops
With orchestras playing music,
To where there are rows of balls in the shop where I bought it
And the shopkeeper smiles amidst the memories of my childhood…
And the music ceases like a wall that collapses,
The ball rolls down the cliff of my interrupted dreams,
And from atop a blue horse, the conductor, yellow jockey turning black,
Bows, resting the baton atop the wall’s escape,
And bows, smiling, with a white ball atop his head,
White ball that disappears down his back…
The sliding of a green dog, and on the other side
A blue horse running with a yellow jockey…
The music continues, and here in my childhood
Suddenly, between me and the conductor, white wall,
The ball goes back and forth, now a green dog,
Now a blue horse with a yellow jockey…
And from side to side, from right to left,
Where there are trees and between the branches near the treetops
With orchestras playing music,
To where there are rows of balls in the shop where I bought it
And the shopkeeper smiles amidst the memories of my childhood…
And the music ceases like a wall collapsing,
The ball rolls down the slope of my interrupted dreams,
And from atop a blue horse, the conductor, yellow jockey turning black,
Bows, resting the baton atop the wall’s escape,
And bows, smiling, with a white ball atop his head,
White ball that disappears down his back…

"Fernando Pessoa"

I am sharing photos of landscapes, moments and experiences. Nature and sea are the most visited themes in my photo collection, but any attention-grabbing aspect can be photographed. Hope you enjoy it...

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