Cloudy Bell Jar
by Delilah Miller
Someone remind me it's a beautiful life;
even if it's the ground keeping you the right way up.
Trip yourself, pat down yourself, unwind yourself and brush off yourself.
I do it all like I've done for everyone else.
The bubble of loneliness always seems ready to pop
while I try to give it a happier name,
As in art, light and movement persist to never stay the same,
Watching summer fade out of my skin
and my eyes and the air I breathe.
Still the ground's under me
and I'm under a huge cloudy bell jar.
England riots: Tariq Jahan, father of Haroon Jahan, one of the three people killed in Birmingham, speaks to the media. Photograph: Carl de Souza/AFP ~guardian.co.uk 8/2011. Link to story is Here
‘I don’t want you to fight.
I’m lost for words. Go home please,
~Tariq Jahan , father of one of the murder victims, addresses the crowd desiring revenge for the deaths of the three in Birmingham.
‘It doesn’t matter what colour you are.
For anyone to lose a son is sad.
I’m just praying that nothing more happens tonight.’
~Carol White, 50, a black mother of four who has lived in Winson Green all her life.
More on this story Here
Although these are not quite haikus, I thought that the words of Haroon’s father and some observers of the scene were powerful enough to stand as such.
Linked to Haiku My Heart. For more Haikus Please visit Recuerda mi Corazon. Thank you.
About the Photographer:
I simply love photography. Since I gave up commercial photography and just do it for the love of it, I probably do even more! I would take on a commission if it really excited me so do get in touch if you think it will – but right now I am really happy just taking images, experimenting with style and processing and having some fun.
I do sell my images of course and you are free to browse the gallery – images are available as prints, canvasses and downloads.
*Photo of London Busker South bank published with author permission.