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Photography by Stephen Palke
Poem by Ben Nardolilli
QuailBellMagazine.com
Poem by Ben Nardolilli
QuailBellMagazine.com
Sit and rest by the log, fine,
I’ll take the picture,
Your legs rhyme
with these narrow fallen branches,
if you want to look away
fine,
I have the river in this shot
and today the river is all capture,
a net for the sun.
A climb into the wet shade
reflecting the trees?
Fine, but no complaints,
I can see the cold seeping
up your stone gray shirt,
let me take a picture,
the environment is overtaking you,
perhaps you will float away
or sink.
Piling rocks for a false monolith,
some tower,
your hands are a balancing act,
I capture you leaning in,
not falling over,
gravity stopped by your focus
on these rocks rising up,
are you ready to kiss
this outcropping coming on to you?
Back to a campus of civilization,
or at least to glass,
where this fine juxtaposition falls
will be decided later,
this sudden order
can stay here for now without
worrying about the rest,
I swear no commentary
Is reflected by you in the window.
Bent over a broken board,
the wood supporst you,
brave ruins, but you are braver,
that cigarette?
It’s fine, keep on smoking it,
drop the ashes carelessly even,
a few new hues,
reds and yellows would work
well with this gray matter.
Do me a favor, please smile,
No? Fine,
at least stand by the urban mural,
something about you
in front of a colorful mess
with your best serious face on,
you look disappointed,
as if the neat progress
Of Pythagorean abstractions is gone.
The close-up, this is your chance,
show them what I see,
imitate the cocktail pose,
you are cornered again,
imagine the party and the first time,
remember, no laughter,
you did not smile that time,
I took the picture and you knew
instantly your role, muse.
Walk on, over some tipping point
I choose not to picture,
this image is for me,
no need to picture you
in the river or on the sand,
your accidental dance,
instead I will show you
all my kindness and poetry,
a goodness before a mortal step.
These feet have not failed you,
the collapse?
It is just a memory to ignore,
no evidence to back it,
you were walking and now sit,
your dress is damp?
That is just the sweat
you worked up from the posing,
still, you look fine.
I’ll take the picture,
Your legs rhyme
with these narrow fallen branches,
if you want to look away
fine,
I have the river in this shot
and today the river is all capture,
a net for the sun.
A climb into the wet shade
reflecting the trees?
Fine, but no complaints,
I can see the cold seeping
up your stone gray shirt,
let me take a picture,
the environment is overtaking you,
perhaps you will float away
or sink.
Piling rocks for a false monolith,
some tower,
your hands are a balancing act,
I capture you leaning in,
not falling over,
gravity stopped by your focus
on these rocks rising up,
are you ready to kiss
this outcropping coming on to you?
Back to a campus of civilization,
or at least to glass,
where this fine juxtaposition falls
will be decided later,
this sudden order
can stay here for now without
worrying about the rest,
I swear no commentary
Is reflected by you in the window.
Bent over a broken board,
the wood supporst you,
brave ruins, but you are braver,
that cigarette?
It’s fine, keep on smoking it,
drop the ashes carelessly even,
a few new hues,
reds and yellows would work
well with this gray matter.
Do me a favor, please smile,
No? Fine,
at least stand by the urban mural,
something about you
in front of a colorful mess
with your best serious face on,
you look disappointed,
as if the neat progress
Of Pythagorean abstractions is gone.
The close-up, this is your chance,
show them what I see,
imitate the cocktail pose,
you are cornered again,
imagine the party and the first time,
remember, no laughter,
you did not smile that time,
I took the picture and you knew
instantly your role, muse.
Walk on, over some tipping point
I choose not to picture,
this image is for me,
no need to picture you
in the river or on the sand,
your accidental dance,
instead I will show you
all my kindness and poetry,
a goodness before a mortal step.
These feet have not failed you,
the collapse?
It is just a memory to ignore,
no evidence to back it,
you were walking and now sit,
your dress is damp?
That is just the sweat
you worked up from the posing,
still, you look fine.
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