Wonderwall. Reflections of the socially awkward photographer.

Wonderwall: Someone you can’t stop thinking about,someone you are infatuated with.

Here I am, thinking of you and I don’t even know your name.
All I wanted was something forbidden.
And there you were, sitting on the footpath, in a black fitting Tshirt,
A lit cigarette casually held between the fingers.
Eyes met. We spoke.
My mind went a little blank.
It was those stupid cheek bones.
All I wanted was to take a picture of that moment.
And then some more.
Those light hazel eyes had me captivated.
But I didn’t know what to say.
So I walked away.
And now you’re on my mind.

I just wanted to be behind a lens with you on the other side.
Somehow the moment passed.
And now here I am,
trying to capture in words the image that I couldn’t.
I loathe this feeling of resignation.
This utter helplessness.
And now you’re on my mind.

There’s nothing I can do.
Fifteen minutes of acquaintance.
Four days of wishing it better spent.
You’re still on my mind.

One picture.
And you wouldn’t be on my mind.

Why are you still on my mind?

Dream

I dream.
I dream of a place far away,
With sand between my toes,
The sound of waves in my ears.
I dream.
Of the highest room in the tallest tower,
I always wanted to be a Dragon Rider.
I dream.
Between Business lunches and Timeline crunches,
Of a place with second breakfast and Elves.
I dream.
Of a place where love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears.
And life plays a soundtrack in your head.
I dream.
I write.
Of Desiderata.
Of Desired things.