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Writer's pictureilamagazine1

Camera Verse

Updated: Sep 4, 2020

A creative collaboration of Poetry and Visual Art between friends....



SOMBER was how she counted

the days of her foregone

times,

with disdain

was how she calculated

the lost beatings

of her pulses.


Suffocated

was how she divided

the rueful emotions

of her senses in whole,


painful

was how she multiplied

the hours

of her mournful existence


In fraction

was her happiness,

in ratio,

was she valued.


By the number

was how she treaded on

the path of her pallid

living,


. . .but by the number

she won't again exist -

she won't again be chained,

to anyone's strings and equation.




© Sharon Dina Rose Regala 2020

Image Courtesy of Carl Scharwath Photography/Art



THE MEETING This is humannequin Standing at the table on the fringes looking on At life's full servings But forgoing on a supping It is trite to think that I must sit on the edge of my seat And be greet and make merry And look happy While feeling like flattened cardboard While my eyes stray to the sides Yet I am faulted for unwrapping my insides And leaving my hair And looking at my friends' soul A feeling follows me to the very end Why didn't I listen to its voice.


© Shanti Harjani-Williams 2020

Image Courtesy of Carl Scharwath Photography/Art


SPLATTER Quick dry blood

Absorbs itself under graphic tees That make believe the man is the myth The legend runs adrift in naked storefronts On doors that close behind They claim for the universal good Sprinting behind the man is his double He who once ran the race alone Now tied up in knots with his own All standing in the same room A likeness of himself.


© Shanti Harjani-Williams

Image Courtesy of Carl Scharwath Photography/Art












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