276 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/26

276 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/26 of-by patrick wey  http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Your elusive walls and delicate lies. The beauty beneath your skin and the avenues so in tune to you. How could anyone misplace you? The door keeper with his facade entered like he owned you but you didn’t let on, you kept your dignity and caressed his heart with your magnitude and sunset eyes. The times they had changed, by the day end the war was over and noone cared about your degrees and folded up knowledge, the world was focused on intricate entertainment, the type that slowly bends you inside. The way you handled the saints and all there prodigies as if you cared with your sensitive love and the dreamy touch you gave just when they thought they could own you. How did you escape with so few scars, what did you have to sell to get here, what did you tell the commissioner, how did you convince the judge.
There are so few that understand the things that must be understood to touch the other side. There is no sense in trying to explain the visions to the blind. In this world of sound there isn’t a single chord out of place and when you’re playing hard with your soft heart it can ease the most weary from that sharp death. You were seen by a few as you disappeared inside the photographs on the wall. That was me there behind the camera long before this night. This is a setup, a scene from some burned out city street and i was sent by who knows who to document you. This is it, there were jokers and thieves down by the docks just waiting for the ship to come in. They waited hundreds of years for this night without hardly a sense of what was about to happen.
But things changed again, you never showed up and the ship died at sea. It just goes to show you flat out that you can’t depend on prophecies any more than the night. This portrait of you by your windows reflection with your truth so well concealed.The tainted glass-wall of the window is behind you now.
I always wanted to tell you just how much this moment meant but time twisted me out of your life and all that i have left now is this grey image of you looking out your open window.
Image circa 80’s – writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

198 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/09

198 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/09 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Something i did in the 90’s…….
Crow Space is a Surreal Documentary of the Life and Times of a Crow(Rosetta) in the late and early part of this millenium…shot with stills and manipulated, sandwiched all with 35mm film slides.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g088qlHn1-g

Patrick Wey

Crow Space

Silently the crow spoke
on a shore of babbling tongue
Silver black against a weary sky
sound beyond the ear
still upon the soul
“there is a way into this
just along this crooked trail
ask the snake
at the end, the gate
she’ll tell you what you need to know
be patient
don’t be late”

The door folded
across a broken lake the sky dead
in a ditch
nothing was the way it was
everything in a twist
my spirit searched, it soared
upon this jagged trail
There were cars, boats, planes
dreams out of control
synthetic sex, tv internet
crippling side effects
a whole universe, a mess
inside this show

Down under, the red sand
eyes wide
ready across the dunes
something from the shadow
stretched across the sky
like a blanket, hovering another side
four long truths circled
to the centre i
was crow blue
as the blackest night

There is so much to say so little time
i quenched, i hopped
i could see there was no point
no telling
what the trickster
hides inside
i could see clear as if
for the first time
it is all a test

Now flying
my wings tough
against the wind
like a frozen lake
smashed against the sky
far below i could see myself
like a past upon a path
yelling up, watch
that fake glass
a barrier to the other side

All those dreams
on a long slow train
this steady hum of track and steel
rollin headin south

The vision, the focus
all those lives
all those hills
all my future squashed
all past pushed along this rail

My eyes closed
wings stretched to distance
claws clenched upon the edge
time come space
leave
fly
for evermore
evermore
crow

The crow
hidden like a shadow
in a misty night
hush of windy woods
darkness in the silence
a dream a vision
from long long ago
the world
before the test of time
an old crow lived
and is living still.