Photo Journal

One man's adventure in photography, poetry, and thought.
© copyright Todd Alan Kraft 2011-2016 All rights reserved.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
These are working notes, and I reserve the right to amend, modify, and redact at any time, and without notice.

  • Home
    Home This is where you can find all the blog posts throughout the site.
  • Tags
    Tags Displays a list of tags that have been used in the blog.
  • Login
Blog posts tagged in poetry form: quatern

Your Pressured Stance Won't Change My Mind

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK56609retouched01_1280.JPG

Your Pressured Stance Won't Change My Mind

[ Perhaps Adagio to Pizzicato. Act I ]

Your pressured stance won't change my mind:
it does no good to threaten me.
Beyond this mast, a hostile sea,
I think you've found yourself a bind.

So put away your steel-edged sword.
your pressured stance won't change my mind.
There are these things you can't afford
when block and tackle troops unwind.

These worldly things have made you blind:
you lust for blood, you lust for gold.
Your pressured stance won't change my mind:
this mockery that I behold.

Uncross your eyes from thoughts confined
to arrogance devoid of might.
What violence will this act incite?
Your pressured stance won't change my mind.

The poem might fit into Adagio's Tale.

A photograph of a dead limb before a sunset.

Continue reading
Hits: 273 1 Comment
Rate this blog entry:
0

In Memory, We Soon Forget

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK56471retouched1280.JPG

In Memory, We Soon Forget

[ Possible Epilogue for Allegro (looking at a sunset) ]

In memory, we soon forget
the details lost to soft vignette:
these shadows that stand in the way,
of gilded world our hearts portray.

From edges rounded by the years,
in memory, we soon forget:
coerced by time to soft abet,
amassed in joy, and stripped of tears.

Love will not wait in plank or line,
so, do not harbor stone regret.
In memory, we soon forget:
rebounding seas in fall and climb.

Relieve the wound to fading scar,
mend the deck with pitch and tar,
accede the field to lone cornet:
in memory, we soon forget.

Back to Adagio's Tale.

A photograph of a river inlet. An alternative color lookup table (CLUT) gives the almost unreal blue to the water.

Continue reading
Hits: 158 1 Comment
Rate this blog entry:
0

It Took Some Time for Us to Grow

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK49465retouched.JPG

It Took Some Time for Us to Grow

It took some time for us to grow
and me some time for me to know
that you and I were meant to be
entwined in one eternity.

You showed me things I never knew
(It took some time for us to grow)
like Matzah balls and escargot
and things that make a Godly Jew.

So, now our marriage takes the stage
his tallit tucked to never show.
It took some time for us to grow;
it took some time to come of age.

As I reflect upon the years,
thru pain, thru joy, and laughter's tears,
I find a shining lamp aglow.
It took some time for us to grow.

"Therefore, the pure righteous do not complain of the dark, but increase the light; they do not complain of evil, but increase justice; they do not complain of heresy, but increase faith; they do not complain of ignorance, but increase wisdom." - Rav Kook

A motion blur photograph of a train pulling into the station, taken with the camera braced by an upright in the station shed. You can see the shadow of the upright on the side of the train.

Continue reading
Hits: 321 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

Sunset/Snow

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK48962retouched.JPG

Sunset/Snow

the sun designs a fading grace
as light and shadow twirl in place
before this gold distends in time
a metered step of ancient rhyme

beneath this royal canopy
of floral flakes and frantic spree
a stream of words ignite the soul
and weave a dream around this scroll

these dancing crystals skirt thin ledge
of flying sparkles set on edge
a fancy frill of pristine glow
erupting from this virgin snow

the fingered rays at last resign
among the oak and needled pine
a splintered view accedes to nest
in violet crown of fallen crest

A photograph of a sun setting between trees in a snow covered wood.

Continue reading
Hits: 317 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

Have You Forgotten How To Smile

b2ap3_thumbnail_TK2_7426retouched.JPG

Have You Forgotten How To Smile

[Adagio continues to woo Portamenta. Portamenta is depressed. Pizzicato comments of Portamenta's state of being: ]

Have you forgotten how to smile?
This pout reveals ingratitude.
The tension that your cheeks compile,
presents your sinking attitude.

You really need a good "what for,"
have you forgotten how to smile?
It mustn't be this grand lifestyle,
with everyday, he sends you more.

We haven't room to store the clothes,
the shoes have formed a mounding pile.
Have you forgotten how to smile?
Your mood is foul from head to toe.

You're letting go of your hygiene.
Does brooding darkness suit your style?
Since when are you the drama queen,
have you forgotten how to smile?

A photograph of a branch with raindrops. The poem is a quatern, Allegro's Tale, a fiction. All the posts relating to Adagio's Tale are here.

Continue reading
Hits: 335 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

I Tell You He's a Handsome Man

 b2ap3_thumbnail_TK0_6841retouched.JPG

I Tell You He's a Handsome Man

[ With only weeks to go before the wedding festivities begin. Portamenta reports to Giocosa and reveals her new found infatuation with Allegro: ]

I tell you he's a handsome man,
with piercing eyes and flowing hair:
a muscled form with golden tan,
with great restraint I shied my stare.

His lips are of the sensual –
I tell you he's a handsome man.
These shivers mine, his grace commands –
a specimen unusual.

I hear he is a lyricist,
and sails the seas to foreign lands.
I tell you he's a handsome man –
a masterpiece born to the mist.

In dream, a wave, and I the shore,
this pounding does confound my plan.
This battered heart, contained no more.
I tell you he's a handsome man.

Portamenta is engaged to Adagio. She has strong feelings for Allegro. The door of her undoing is set ajar.

A photograph of Devil's Den, Gettysburg, PA. The poem is a quatern, Portamenta's Tale, a fiction. All the posts relating to Adagio's Tale are here.

Continue reading
Hits: 329 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

How Pleasant Is this Gentle Rain

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK35377retouchedDodge.JPG

How Pleasant Is this Gentle Rain

[Adagio has introduced Portamenta to Allegro, but they haven't had the opportunity to talk. Standing beneath a portico, in out of the rain, Portamenta finally gets up the nerve to strike up a conversation with Allegro. Portamenta speaks: ]

How pleasant is this gentle rain,
that puddles circle in refrain.
A fantasy of rings collide,
embracing ripples in their tide.

And from beneath this portico,
how pleasant is this gentle rain?
As rivulets of copper stain,
transport their pattern here below.

This salty breath that sea winds bore,
inlist my passions unexplained.
How pleasant is this gentle rain,
that stimulates my every pore.

My tensions on this steamy day,
are eased as blue gives way to gray,
as streams entwine beneath this drain.
How pleasant is this gentle rain. 

A photograph of raindrops on a pool of water. I think writing structured poetry and taking photographs have a lot in common, there are only so many choices that can be made, expression exists in the manipulation of these choices. The choice of which photograph to present, of which words choices to represent, these are what distinguish the photographer from photographer, poet from poet.

The poem is a quatern, Adagio's Tale a fiction. All the posts relating Adagio's Tale can be found here.

Continue reading
Hits: 410 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

I Need to Touch Your Face Tonight

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK35090retouched.JPG

I Need to Touch Your Face Tonight

[Portamenta pens a letter for Allegro, to be delivered by her friend Giocosa. ]

I need to touch your face tonight,
and consecrate this love affair,
discard this march of bridal rite,
and run my fingers thru your hair.

My passions flare with zest and zeal,
I need to touch your face tonight.
And with these words must I recite
unflinching ardor's strong appeal?

This road to bliss has many eyes,
take care to travel out of sight.
I need to touch your face tonight,
beneath the pines and moonlit skies.

My eagerness you can't dismiss.
My heart, it soars to daunting heights.
Appear to me from furtive mists,
I need to touch your face tonight.

Portamenta is really going out on a limb with this letter. Will Allegro show?

A photograph of a rhododendron beginning to bloom. The poem is a quatern, Allegro's Tale, a fiction. All the posts relating to Adagio's Tale are here.

Continue reading
Hits: 364 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

I See You When I Close My Eyes (Pizzicato)

b2ap3_thumbnail__TK35083retouched.JPG

I See You When I Close My Eyes (Pizzicato)

[Portamenta, wants a relationship with Allegro. Portamenta suspects her Uncle Pizzicato's has offered up her hand to Adagio. She has made her suspicions known to her Uncle, but agrees to marry Adagio. Pizzicato in an effort to justify his actions speaks: ]

I see you when I close my eyes –
an innocence that stands unclad.
A woman flowers as time flies –
I kind of feel a sort of sad.

I could not bring you dress and style –
I see you when I close my eyes –
my life unsure and improvised,
so gladdened by your glowing smile.

With impish grin upon your face,
your spirit twirled beneath blue skies.
I see you when I close my eyes:
a vision time can not erase.

But now, I fear, I've lost your heart –
so poisoned with despairing cries.
For you, I've wished a better start,
I see you when I close my eyes.

We want for our children. With this want, do we do them disservice? Pizzicato is losing his little girl to womanhood, and another man.

A photograph of a unidentified fern frond. The poem is a quatern, Pizzicato's Tale, a fiction. All the posts relating to Adagio's Tale are here.

Continue reading
Hits: 338 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0

It's Time to Drink Another Toast

b2ap3_thumbnail_TK2_9452retouched1.JPG

It's Time to Drink Another Toast

[Allegro, Pizzicato, and Adagio at the bar. Adagio: ]

It's time to drink another toast,
to good old days along the coast,
to mermaids dressed in silk and gold,
to memories of growing old.

Gentlemen, your glasses high,
it's time to drink another toast.
Here's to our waitress and our host,
that keep us doused with Scotch and rye.

The two of you are awfully mum –
Allegro has no artful boast?
It's time to drink another toast,
to disengage your mouth and thumb.

I'm glad to see that I'm the one,
that's drinking up this evening's fun.
The problem here's been diagnosed,
it's time to drink another toast.

If the truth be known, Pizzicato seems to be suspended in a state of permanent inebriation. Allegro is quite pleased to see that Adagio is well on his way to stupor.

A photograph of corrugated steel siding and stone in a fence weave with the contrast and saturation turned to their respective maximums. The poem is a quatern, Allegro's Tale, a fiction. All the posts relating to Adagio's Tale are here.

Continue reading
Hits: 5059 0 Comments
Rate this blog entry:
0