Category Archives: Photo Finish Friday
Photo finish Friday: “Passing thought”
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Photo finish Friday: “Abandoned Table”
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Photo finish Friday: “The creme de la creme”
Filed under 2015, Photo by Beth Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Photo finish Friday: “Flushed with reading”
Do you live with your novels as you are reading them? Even in the bathroom?
But maybe you have no bookshelf or place to temporarily rest the book. What do you do? Why, the toilet paper dispenser might be your friend.
Not recommended for heavy books or picture books of odd-sized dimensions. But the right book at the right time with the roll of toilet paper at the right diameter, and you have a temporary bookshelf while you await the flush of success.
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Photo finish Friday: “Head’s down”
I just want to know who the injured party is in this case.
Filed under 2015, Photo by Beth Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Photo finish Friday: “Flower plea”
Flower plea
Oh, please, oh, please, don’t pick me.
There’s only a short life within me.
Leave me so others can see me.
Let me be so I can be me.
Come by as often as you like,
Be it in a car, on foot, or a trike.
I’ll be here for all to delight.
To pick me would leave only a blight.
I’m here for only a short while.
Let my bloom help others to smile.
Do not give in to temptation or denial
And leave nothing but a joy defiled.
Oh, please, oh, please, don’t pick me.
There’s only a short life within me.
Leave me so others can see me.
Let me be so I can be me.
–photo and poem by David E. Booker
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author
Photo finish Friday: “Weekend”
O’ Come Weekend
O’, come weekend, come on soon
the week’s been hell, been like a bassoon
played off-key and played next to my ear,
or a pipe clattering, trying to get clear
of the air trapped inside when the taps turned on
whopping and whopping like a bad song.
O’, come weekend, come on soon
the week’s been hell, been like a baboon
locked in a small cage, tossing poop and food
flashing its teeth – O’ it’s been in a mood.
So come on weekend, get your ass here.
I’ve had more than I can take. Am I being clear?!
–Photo and poem by David E. Booker










