Aunt Irene

 

 

 

 

 

Stokes Heirloom Photographs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burrowed Beneath

Burrowed beneath the cool
Florida sand
Lies the rattle-tailed
shiver of sapian
In darkness meshing of
Gopherus and Horridus
Vestiges of
a creation once
Concordant.

Loti Sonata

Morning Meditation

 

in morning meditation
pondering the creation
how from nothing
we were created
one to hear
another one deaf
one to bloom
another to gloom
more the mystery
the new creation
where wind blows
we never know
yet it goes
while one bends
another breaks
how one see's
this morning beauty.

Impression Loti

There are several differing interpretations of this same scene, from sharply focused to a slow shutter impression. I am drawn to the soft, painterly look of a slow shutter.

The Sad Shepherd

Amazon sent my copy of Collected Poems by Yeats yesterday, a very nice little hardback from the Collector's Library. This is the second poem in the volume. I look forward to the rest.

The Sad Shepherd
by W.B. Yeats

There was a man whom Sorrow named his friend,
And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming
And humming sands, where windy surges wend:
And he called loudly to the stars to bend
From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they
Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous story!
The sea swept on and cried her old cry still,
Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill.
He fled the persecution of her glory
And, in a far-off, gentle valley stopping.
Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening.
But naught they heard, for they are always listening,
The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping.
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
And thought, I will my heavy story tell
Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send
Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;
And my own tale again for me shall sing,
And my own whispering words be comforting,
And lo! my ancient burden may depart.
Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;
But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan
Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.

Hail State

Hail State
by john clare stokes

Hail dear old Mississippi State
Fight for victory today
Please win this series for Will Clark
Not "The Thrill" William Nuschler of Giants fame
Nor the duo of Palmeiro and Clark of
Thunder of Lightning
But the Brookhaven Bulldog
Homewood born native son
William Clark Stokes
Bulldog fan even before sixty-one
The semi-pro who hurled fastballs in Florida leagues
Cracking leather in earshot of Canaveral's rocketry
Who after years since seeing me in Sopchoppy
Was not, so good to see you
But, you see who State signed from Pascagoula?
Hail dear old Mississippi State
Fight for victory today
Please beat those Bruins for William Clark
Who would have named his first born Bully
Had his sweet Rose Gamillion not had a say
Who believed the only pure color
Was not orange, blue, purple or crimson
but burgundy
And while all the titles went to cheating schools
State and only STATE played by the
official rules.
Hail dear old Mississippi State
Fight for victory today
Please give one title to William Clark
Who for his entire life stayed the course
Rang the cow bell when others sat silent
Wore forever the burgundy poly coaching shorts
Learned braille just so he could
make the blind see
The only thing you need to be
is a blindly loyal
Mississippi State
BULLDOG.

Lullaby

The photographs start with the last day I visited Nathaniel at his grandmother Julia's house in March of this year. I do think he knew something was amiss by the sadness in his eyes. At first when I arrived he wanted to get into the car with me and leave. The entire time it was most difficult to contain my emotions. Toward evening, staying as long as I could, he fell asleep in my arms. I gently laid him down on a pallet in the living room and slipped out of his life. Julia said that later when he woke, he went throughout the yard and trailer calling for and looking for his Pappa. That further broke my heart. The photographs then move to the first time in March of 2011 that my father saw Nathaniel at the VA in Lake City where soon there after, he passed away. It then moves to the death of Melanie's sister Melissa in December of 2012 and holding a sleeping Nathaniel in my arms.  It then moves on into dreams, of a fading memory of a Pappa, ghost-like upon the trail, of meme Clara reading to him under the all present Jesus calling painting, of his rocking horse  that mysteriously would neigh in the night and then concluding with Nathaniel looking up as he so often did. We were always looking up, seeking the moon, the stars, the clouds, the rainbows as I pointed things out to him from a little infant, cradled in the nook of my arm.
Not a day passes that I do not look up and pray for our reunion, to ring my fathers old bell announcing the joy to all that a son and a grandson have returned home, to a Pappa's arms.

Beauty and Bands

Zechariah 11:7

And I took unto me two staves; the one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands;
And I fed the flock.

I took this photograph of the old octagonal church off Price Creek CR 245 many years ago. It has been featured on a calendar for the historical society and a calendar for the college. It was said the church was built in this manner in order not to have a corner to allow the devil to hide in.
This photograph was taken with a Yashica Mat 124 2x2 twin lens reflex and personally developed.  120 medium format negatives are larger than a 35mm rectangular negative allowing greater detail, or in today's language, greater megapixels.
For anyone interested in an 8x10 print, I can print one for you.
$25.00 plus $5 shipping and gentle handling.

for Jeanne

 

 

 

 

 

Catfish memory

It was the November of two-thousand...we paddled up to Billy's Island in the Okeefenokee...Landon and Melanie sat on the dock and caught catfish....how much has changed in the thirteen ensuing years...Landon has abandoned his family....we pray daily that he will awake and communicate, restore his family to his life.