Gannet of flight past

I know this isn't the happiest of pictures, but it still fascinated me when I saw it and I couldn't help taking a picture of it. It is a dead Cape Gannet which was washed up on the rocks at high tide. I have actually posted another dead gannet photo before (macabre isn't it?) which can be seen here.

This picture was paired with a poem called Death by Benjamin Saccaggi on The Poetry Project website.

DEATH

The panorama is mesmerising
And the air clear and clean
As nature stretches away forever
Into the blue horizon
Each plant and animal
A long history of survival
The struggle of life
And the anguish of death

How much of this will we destroy?
In our sad, desperate attempts
To find meaning in the world
Meaning in ourselves
How much of the world will we destroy?
With our unquenchable thirst for wealth
What will be the price?
How much life will die?
How much of ourselves will we kill?

Caught in the crossfire
Of ever warring monies
Spilling our blood perpetuating the system
And when we’re done?
When we’ve destroyed our world?
Devoured its beauty
And consumed ourselves

Silence

As the dying breath of the last man
Whispers his regret at extinguishing the fire
Leaving nothing but the cold winds of space
To blow ceaselessly over thoughtless bones

Silence

With the flickering death of the last flame
Dies what was once beauty
And life
And consciousness

Silence

Autumn

I have had a second picture selected to be paired with a poem on The Poetry Project website (and hopefully the book that will follow). Its a site run by a cyber friend of mine who takes poems from relatively unknown poets and pair them up with pictures from local photographers. The first one was used with a poem called At God's Gate. This time around my picture below was paired with a poem called Autumn by Aboo Hansa.

AUTUMN

High but not so strong was the morning sun
A later rise and earlier set, has all of nature adjusting their clocks
Dew glistens on the knife like blades of grass
Birds chirp to the beat of the concrete jungle, oblivious to the depravity of space
A sigh of relief breathed from the overture of heat
Trees begin to shed their green garments opting for a rather rusty look with hues of browns, yellows and reds
A crisp Autumnal breeze hits my face
The smell of a new beginning, the smell of Autumn

The Poetry Project - At God's Gate

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.

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.