Architecture of Cities: Marilyn Monroe Meets Bruno Mars
The Empire State Building.
The if in a day profoundly appears: If I could sing Marilyn Monroe days Lazy:
The if in a day profoundly appears: If I could sing Bruno Mars The Lazy Song: Appearances seem the same: The odes to what they become: Then I could imagine I see everything imaginable: The ode to what if becomes:
What if my day was shoulder to shoulder with Ernest Hemingway: What if The Green Hills of Africa could be mine: What if his template for the vernacular became my photographs: What if my habits became that may be: What if everyday was a conquest:
The great divides: The great migrations: We delineate our lives to exist before and to follow afar: The great arboretum ahead lives:
If you might stand in the center of Dhaka: if you might see ten million Bangladeshis: If you might hear the the din: If you might see the clamoring: If you knew how to scream sans a single sound: What might you hear among: What if you are alone: the silence is a pause: The pause is only to hear your capture:
Homage to Berenice Abbot: My Twenty-First -Century: October,2024.
Mozart’s Requiem in “D…”is heard: The “…Requiem incomplete: The Caesura is seen: The maestro alone: The poetic pause is not slight: It is where my careers’ eyes espy my challenges: It is where my arboretum is seen: It stands as if seventeen-thousand pipes from St Stephens Organ poses before you: Ready to song, ready to sing: Something afresh leads: The capture of necessity may be near: A conquest is never to be: The single arboreta is akin to celebrated oceanic currents on display: Too hard to navigate: The moment may be my camera’s caesura, if I am to force forward:
Francis Ford Coppola’s audacity we witness: An entire cinematic universe enters one man’s inner sanctum: Melding into a plethora of pastoral gazes: Realities and fantasies become one: Coppola’s merlinesque dream of possibilities unfolds: The director’s stew melds my mind with newfound possibilities: The dream becomes: We become the present, past and future:
Hudson Yards New York City.
Coppola imagines a wreath in waiting: The camera paces as in mindful: Captivated by our dreams: Renaissance imaginations invite our eyes to equally embrace the unimaginable Da Vinci/Fra Angelico: They forever art anew: Like a carta da lucido (vellum) atop millenniums of dreams breathes: Their eyes became us: We became: Coppola leads us to The Godfather’s (Marlon Brandos) brow: The brow becomes: The window recedes from view: A seemingly secret dream appears: Natures’ natural appears: The intersection of imagination and heart speak before what may be captured: Something fades: Something comes into view: My camera engages the near: The arboreta becomes: Reality careens in every direction:For decades my eyes have been substituting realities for dreams: Dreams for realities The planets arboretums all alone stand: The great walls of architecture have been waiting: Intersections have been dreams manifested: Captures step beyond the dreams:The photography reminds of Einstein’s insanity that wasn’t: The appearance of heroes come to the forefront: Carleton Watkins stands: Felice Beato journeys: Mathew Brady engages: Thousands who influenced before appear: They dreamed: I communed.Halcyon days spoke to me: The past revealed: I have only attempted to what I have failed: I meant to sustain feelings to remain: The light of day moves: Raptors descend to devour: They “prey”:Empathy in art arises: The happiest days dance between the trees: Rising steel and glass are my captures: Architecture comes to surprise: Tomorrow may seem logical: Memories are obscuring my tomorrows: Ode to pine for halcyon days:
My Dreams about Architectural Design.
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