Phantom Photographer

A camera takes shots of me

Whether I like it or not

I tell it to stop

But it takes another shot

Its flash blinds me

Unable to think

So quickly I run the taps

To fill up the sink

The waters cold

As is my heart

My camera is scared

I hear it shaking apart

I throw the lens into the sink

And give the body a nice cool drink

The cameras dead

Resting at the bottom of the sink

Heavy as lead

Yet the flash still goes off

Taking another shot

Photography: The Ruins of Berry Pomeroy Castle

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It was a cloudy, rainy miserable day when me and my friend decided to go for a motorcycle journey. It had been years since I’ve been to this place. Whenever you mention the name Berry Pomeroy to a native in Torbay they’ll always tell you of ghosts that walk the ramparts. Lords and ladies that were murdered, Patrolling soldiers and everyday working men and women all spotted throughout the day and night by visitors and tourists.

I for one found the Ruins of Berry Pomeroy stunning, in an old gothic way. I attempted to catch the beauty of the castle itself and the nature surrounding it. There is a pathway leading to a moat nearby, bustling with nature. Bird calls that were completely unfamiliar to me sounding like car alarms.

I hope you’ve enjoyed these pictures.

If you’re interested in the history of Berry Pomeroy Castle check out this link from English Heritage:

http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/berry-pomeroy-castle/history/

If you’re more interested in ghost stories:

http://totallyhaunted.co.uk/berry-pomeroy-castle.php

http://www.hiddenrealms.org.uk/berrypomeroy.html

Peace of mind – Part 1

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I sit here in a room

Well I think it’s a room

I’ve walked from side to side

From what I could feel:

Four walls

Four corners

 

It’s so dark in here

The only way I can see

Is during the day

When they open the window

Letting the sun shine through

When they shut it

I can’t tell whether my eyes are open or not

Am I sleeping or am I awake?

Standing or sitting?

 

The window is shut

I reach inside of myself

I search the lights of my soul

They’re dim

But brighter as I move closer

They line up along rails

On a pier

leading to the centre of the sea

I follow them

 

Reaching the end of the pier

I look down

There’s a long drop below

Into a whirpool

A vortex of black and white

 

I see others jumping from their piers

Sucked into the waters below

They seem to know what they’re doing

I jump

 

And follow

 

 

The sea of life

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A dull day

The rough waves of the grey coastline

Pound the beach into submission

The seagulls bob up and down on the pulse of the sea

 

Cormorants

Dive for what seems hours at a time

Reaching the mirky depths

Their homes

Only to return with a sad expression

 

The young ones throw stones

At the waves

Angering them

They grow fiercer at the mockery

Spitting froth

A deep rumble

Within the ripples

 

The old ones search for seashells

Trying to pick them up

By the time they bend fully downwards

The tide is knee high

Seashells long since swept away

They forget what they were doing

With creaking limbs

They try to remember home

 

The ones stuck in the middle

Sit here in anguish

On the sand of the beach

At the futility

They feel in this place

The waves move ever closer

With empathy

 

 

Too many doors

 

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I walk down a hallway

There’s so many doors to choose from

So many rooms, so many options

I had them

I almost had one

A single room

Planned

Foiled

I move on to the next door

I’ve found it

This is the room I’ve been looking for

I leave, disatisfied

Too many doors

I leave the building

Through the exit

Where there is air

 

 

The village surrounded by mist

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Faces that aren’t faces

Hollow people

They walk the same route

Every day

The birds

The same shrill calls

The beasts

Wander the same path

through the undergrowth

A mist surrounds this place

I’ve walked out of it

A thousand times

Only to be welcomed back

By lifeless smiles

Devoid of emotion

Some days

I find myself

Walking the same route

Drifting, comforming

With this village

Emptiness echoes

Throughout my hollowing mind

I smile

 

 

 

The ocean

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I dance and swirl around

As I am dictated

By the waves

Of this ocean

I watch my arms

Uselessly sway about

My hips

Awkwardly turn round and round

my legs

At least standing

Floating

I’m in a daze

The music keeps playing

Even if I’m not there

I’m still dancing

To the waves

Of this ocean