One of my cyber friends, Nadine Larter, recently started a poetry website called The Poetry Project. It is a site where she brings together the poems of a number unknown South African poets and pair it up with pictures by local photographers. In her own words: “For a long time now I have been wanting to bring picture and pen together in a symbiotic relationship of expression. What you see here is simply the start of what I hope will be an ongoing project of passion shared with my fellow South Africans for many years to come.”
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A little while ago she sent me a poem and asked me if I would perhaps have a picture that she could pair with it. I sent her a couple and she chose the picture below taken at the Holy Trinity church in Central, Port Elizabeth. The poem is called At Gods Gate and it is by very deep and talented poet named Kathleen Flanagan.
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A little while ago she sent me a poem and asked me if I would perhaps have a picture that she could pair with it. I sent her a couple and she chose the picture below taken at the Holy Trinity church in Central, Port Elizabeth. The poem is called At Gods Gate and it is by very deep and talented poet named Kathleen Flanagan.
Here I stand at Gods gates, his cradle of wrought iron bars.
Here, I lean expecting cold metal, yet my balance is lost, my hold falters with lost senses.
I fall face to the ground, the shock reverberating up my spine and my head explodes with realisation.
My thoughts, expectations and doubts, caused this fall from grace.
How was I so confused?
Consumed?
Doomed?
Here, is an emptiness of promises. Here, I pick myself up, cradle me in the nook of my arm, and rock myself to sleep.
Here in this limbo, this grey landscape, Here in my mind.
Here, I lean expecting cold metal, yet my balance is lost, my hold falters with lost senses.
I fall face to the ground, the shock reverberating up my spine and my head explodes with realisation.
My thoughts, expectations and doubts, caused this fall from grace.
How was I so confused?
Consumed?
Doomed?
Here, is an emptiness of promises. Here, I pick myself up, cradle me in the nook of my arm, and rock myself to sleep.
Here in this limbo, this grey landscape, Here in my mind.
that is a beautiful picture. the way the arch hugs the steeple like that 🙂 well done 🙂
Most certainkly a good match.
The most perfect example of framing I've ever seen! Fantastic!
Your photo and the poem complement each other wonderfully well!
perfect match!
Heart tuching poem with a machingpicture