Category Archives: Photo Finish Friday

Photo finish Friday: “See your point”

The eyes have it.

The eyes have it.



New eyes

Oh, doc, give me new eyes
You know, like those of spies.
Ones I can see into anywhere
Even clean through your underwear.
Eyes that they used to advertise:
“For a dollar you’ll never be surprised.”
They were in all the comic books
Before comic books got their “adult look.”

Oh, doc, I want some new eyes.
In case you didn’t yet surmise
I seem to be bumping into things
And there’s no joy in what that brings.
The other day I bumped into a man
Who threatened to send me to a faraway land.
It is a place I’d prefer not to go
’cause if it freezes over nobody will know.

Oh, doc, can’t you see the mess I’m in?
All the beauty I’m missing, it’s a sin.
Pretty ladies keep passing me by.
They drop money in my cup and then sigh.
Some say they used to know me before
When their beauty I’d spot and adore.
They wonder if my eyes were put out
By a jealous lover’s punch round about.

Oh, doc, what else can I say
That will enlighten you about the way
That my life has gotten very small
Because I can see no one nor nothing at all.
I promise to keep my new glasses clean
And turn away should I see something obscene.
But I’m a lawyer so I hope you understand
“Obscene” depends on the law of the land
And like some crazy, quixotic Spaniards,
We of the law are still groping for a good standard.

–poem by David E. Booker

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Photo finish Friday: “Rusted truck”

The world as it might be.

The world as it might be.

Rusted truck

The day the world went mad.
The day we ran out of oil.
It was day just like this one,
A day full of madness and toil.

First there were high prices
Then rationing of the fuel.
The people decried that government
Was making them feel like a fool.

The army tried to quell the unrest
But it was no match for the madness.
Still the pain it inflicted
Spawned much hatred and sadness.

Then a great leader proclaimed:
“I can fix this issue.”
But all he had was graft and lies:
A house of cards and tissues.

Civilization ceased having meaning
Truth and justice went down the drain.
Militia’s came out, guns about
And that’s when the world went insane.

And to this day, no one can say
Who committed the bigger sin –
Those who started the dying now
Or those who failed back when.

Back when they had the chance to save
Some for the next generations,
They used it all up instead
As if it were their only libation.

I write this by dying fire light,
Scribbling on old yellow paper.
Some day you may still read it
Or it may have crumbled into vapor.

–photo and poem by David E. Booker

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Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author

Photo finish Friday: “In a pickle”

The odd-shaped pickle.

The odd-shaped pickle.

I’m in a bit of a pickle.
I don’t know what to say
About this green sweet midget
I found just the other day.
Some say it looks like a mitten;
Others, a cactus gone awry.
I say it looks like a device
I’ve heard some give a try.
There is a pick up line
About nickel to tickle a pickle.
I say the shape of this one
Might just be the pickle tickle
As the holiday approaches
And Summer flows into the air
I want to solve this issue
So I can enter without a care.
If you have any idea
Of what this shape is about
Then please let me know
So I will no longer have any doubt.

A Vlasic classic?

A Vlasic classic?

–Photos and poem by David E. Booker

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Photo finish Friday: “No place”

She clicked the heels together: one, two, three.

She clicked the heels together: one, two, three.

Kansas wasn’t what it once was, and neither was Dorothy. She even wondered if she had the ruby-red slippers she wore to get back home all those many decades ago. She couldn’t find them, but she found a pair of red shoes her granddaughter had accidentally left after visiting from Tennessee. Dorothy had meant to mail them back, but had never gotten around to it. Maybe they would do.

She slipped them on. Her old and slightly swollen feet were slightly too big for them, but she forced them in nonetheless and hobbled outside and up to the curb. It was noon. The sun was already beating heat into the earth as if each ray was a spike.

Dorothy stood with her feet as close together as possible, took a deep breath, and then coughed, her lungs suddenly filled with the fumes of a car speeding by. She inhaled again, steadied herself, and clicked the heels together three times, repeating the phrase: “This is no longer my home. This is no longer my home. This is no longer my home.”

It was only later, when some of the employees of the assisted living home where Dorothy had been staying started looking for her did they find the red shoes. But nobody made the link between that young Dorothy and this one who had simply walked off without her shoes.

“Happens more often than we care to think about,” one employee said when asked by the police.

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Filed under 2015, Photo by Beth Booker, Photo Finish Friday

Photo finish Friday: “Hippo-naughty-ic”

Dirty Dancing in the wild.

Dirty Dancing in the wild.

Oh my
the hippopotami
have come to try
and drive me away.

I undressed
to my birthday best
to take my rest
on a hot day.

I did not know
it was no place to go
that I could not show
my full display.

I have caused unrest
put nature to the test
because I undressed
and tried to stay.

One big old brute
did not like my birthday suit
so I gave him the salute
and he huffed my way.

With no pants
I had little chance
to make a stance
or have my say.

I now must leave
but please don’t grieve
and don’t yet believe
I am human filet.

–poem by David E. Booker

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Photo finish Friday: “Wedding dress”

An unlucky dress?

An unlucky dress?

Wedding dress

Wedding dress, wedding dress beside the road
In a plastic bag, story untold.
Was it for a marriage gone terribly bad?
Or was the bride free and very glad?
Was it tossed out in spite and anger?
Discarded maybe after he strangled her?
Was she elated to see him go
And she tossed it out just for show?
The button on the bag said it was “EASY”
Was it really or was it simply sleazy?
The dress in question raises questions galore
Some answers we know, for others we want more.

Abandoned in a bag with a red button on the side.

Abandoned in a bag with a red button on the side.

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Photo finish Friday: “Big Yeller Hoops Day”

Big Yellow Hoops Day on the highway.

Big Yellow Hoops Day on the highway.

Catching up to the hoops on the highway.

Catching up to the hoops on the highway.

Big Yellow Hoops ahead on the highway.

Big Yellow Hoops ahead on the highway.

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Photo finish Friday: “Ax about it”

Some walls have ears; others have musicians. Don't (s)ax me why.

Some walls have ears; others have musicians. Don’t (s)ax me why.

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Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

Photo finish Friday: “Shameless self-promotion, part2”

After some delays, the 1st Place Check for the Knoxville Writers' Guild Science Fiction and Fantasy writing contest arrived. The 2015 KWG writing contest is now accepting submissions. Go to http://www.knoxvillewritersguild.org/contest.

After some delays, the 1st Place Check for the Knoxville Writers’ Guild Science Fiction and Fantasy writing contest arrived. The 2015 KWG writing contest is now accepting submissions. Go to http://www.knoxvillewritersguild.org/contest.

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Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

Photo finish Friday: “Fit”

One size rarely fits all -- except possibly to entice all to fits.

One size rarely fits all — except possibly to entice all to fits.

Fit

Yard Sale – we have hot pants!
Stop! Buy today and take a glance.
Try a pair – they’re over there
Under the bicycle kit for repair.

“Women’s Plus Size Petite Pants”
Marketing words meant to entrance.
That’s how they’re being sold online.
They can be yours: they once were mine.

Wore them once and put them away.
“Petite, my ass,” is all I’ll say.
But they’re a treasure beyond all measure
and they’re here today to give you pleasure.

Yard Sale – we have hot pants.
Stop! Buy today and give them a chance.
You want a pair, I know you do.
Make that two or three or quite a few.

–Photo and poem by David E. Booker

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Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author