day FIFTY FIVE

Things You Can't Do Alone

hug

kiss

smooch

snuggle

rub noses

share gelato

hold another left hand

hold another right hand

hold another

see your reflection

in another set of eyes

find yourself

in another's expression

of joy.

~m

day FIFTY FOUR

lemon cookies

leemmonn coookieees

le..mo...nn coo...kiee...sss...

now you must buy them

you cannot resist

no one can resist

lemon cookies.

day FIFTY THREE

i've learned to live

in pockets of time

that keep getting

smaller

and

smaller.

day FIFTY TWO

CIRCLE

inside Circle, Flower grows

it knows not world

but Circle knows

outside Circle, there be weeds

 Flower sleeps

but Circle sees

alone Flower cannot survive

it will not grow

it will not thrive

Circle knows this be true

weeds will kill

if they get through

but Flower must not be killed

Circle knows

it has been willed

so Circle gives

that Flower lives

till the weeds get through

that's life.

day FIFTY ONE

what is normal

and what

is Strange?

how do we know

it's strAnge

and not just

misunderstood?

what if it

truly is strange

and we 

misunderstanD

that?

is it then normal?

day FIFTY

can't help it

can you

you want one

you want it bad

it's going to haunt you

until you have one

and, you know what?

it won't taste very good

but somehow

that won't matter much.

day FORTY NINE

Loneliness hurts but pain sucks. 

One can be conscious of everything

but aware of nothing.

Who am I?

I am that which is 

aware of having asked a question

aware of having the thought

aware of awaiting a reply

But who I am?

Of this, I am not aware.

day FORTY EIGHT

Sometimes, a picture at the beach is just a picture at the beach.

day FORTY SEVEN

michael flew a kite today

though, he didn't fly it right away

he tried but it refused to go

the wind was blowing way too slow.

his brother said as he walked by

"you're way too small, that kite won't fly.

"let me see, it's no great riddle,

"the kite's too big and you're too little."

michael thought, "that can't be right.

"i can surely fly this kite.

"it sails up high, when i run around,

"but when i stop, it comes back down."

"it isn't that i'm too small,

"it really isn't that at all,

"it must be something else," he thought.

"something that i haven't got."

so michael looked for other things

that like his kite, flew on wings

michael heard a plane go by

way up, way up in the sky.

but he couldn't see why it could fly

it was simply way too high.

~m

day FORTY SIX

Guess which little girl is thinking, "I wonder where can I get one of those," which one is thinking, "That lady sure has a big butt," and which one is thinking "Will anyone see me if I eat this booger?"

day FORTY FIVE

The old man searched and searched but never found his one true love.

day FORTY FOUR

Those who don't pause

and study the ground at their feet

step over a lot

of amazing things.

day FORTY THREE

Even giants play the one true game. 

day FORTY TWO

"Wha'chu lookin at?"

day FORTY ONE

He was her brave lad, and she, his bonnie lass. He slayed dragons and she wove tales of secret gardens in emerald forests where lives are long and love endures, where zephyrs sing and flowers waltz and dewdrops fall onto mossy beds, where love lies down in clover and chimera and sweethearts embrace in heaven's repose.

day FORTY

Know Me, Know You

I am as

you see me

see me

as I am.

 We are all

as we once were

when once

we were

as we are.

No more 

do you know now

than you 

knew then.

Understand?

It will always be this way.

day THIRTY NINE

Seems to be my week for 

significant, life altering events. 

More to come ...

day THIRTY EIGHT

"Never interupt your enemy

when he's making a mistake." 

~Napoleon

day THIRTY SEVEN

Where oh where are you tonight,

why did you leave me

here all alone?

I searched

the world over 

and I thought

I'd found 

true love.

You met another

and

phhhitttt!

you was 

gone.

[Thank you Hee Haw!]

day THIRTY SIX

SUNDAY'S DARKNESS

The tiny boy waits

on wooden rail,

knees shift

painfully

one to the other.

Trembling hands

grasping

dangling beads

of plastic and glass,

reach out

to the one

who 

forgives.

In twisted agony,

affixed by spikes,

arching against the wood,

the bloody symbol

dies again.

~m

day THIRTY FIVE

Willy was used to small audiences, but this was ridiculous!

day THIRTY FOUR

go night night, brandee

night, night

see you soon ...

1994 - 2009

day THIRTY THREE

Sometimes

dreams

really do

come true!

~m

day THIRTY TWO

THUNK GOES THE PUPPY'S HEAD

Thunk goes the puppy's head

underneath the car

Pop! A turtle in the road

that didn't get to far

Splish! Yuk!

a little worm

Yeow!

the neighbor's dog,

and when I think

I've got it made

around the bend

a frog!

Now I've left the neighborhood

things are getting worse,

breath deep

that's a skunk

someone got him first.

There is Mr. O'possum

some of him is goo,

he looks a little peaked today

I think it's gross

don't you?

Well, now it's time to head on home

I think it's safe to say

I'm really not so innocent

I've killed a lot today.

So, when you let your pets run loose

and wander very far,

imagine what they'd look like

in the front grill

of my car.

~m

day THIRTY ONE

The stink of curtain dust, moist chairs and gummy wax floors fills the hall where the members shuffle about, whispering goads and mouthing anticipations. 

Fire globes dim announcing the call. 

Late of silk and pearls she mounts the stage; her quaffed hair annoints bare shoulders; chiseled bone shudders its delight. 

Hammer strikes ornament the air, then prick and pull the members toward crescendo. Waves of irony and sorrow batter alabaster shores and rock walls. 

She laughs, they cry. Tomorrow they'll return for more.

day THIRTY

HIGH ATOP A VERY SMALL BUILDING

:the apartment

7-foot windows

two in every room 

ascend to skylights 

with sun beams!

 

Dry air with hair 

whisps about

on hardwood slates 

of many colors.

Cathedral ceilings hold

darkened glass lamps

 with unreachable bulbs

long since burnt.

Clangs and bells,

wheezes and whistles-

heat's coming up!

The closet sings

but holds few cloths.

A view of a brick wall

and a parking lot

where the wind

collects its garbage.

day TWENTY NINE

WISDOM

If you thought I hadn’t seen you you’d be wrong. You might think I’m enjoying myself here but that's wrong too. I’m putting up with them. What choice do I have?

Before it’s all gone I want to tell you how much you’ve meant to me. Every day the curtains draw further and further and soon I won’t see you at all. I’ll be grown and have a job and he’ll work and we’ll have kids (like me) and then you’ll be theirs. 

But for now you’re mine and I love you, though once I was afraid of you, but no more. You’re really just misunderstood, aren’t you? Well, I understand you, but I won’t for much longer.

Go now; find another. I’ll be okay from here. Pull your tail in before shutting the closet door. Remember how you hate to get caught in the door?

day TWENTY EIGHT

Beef Man

Oh, you poor beef man

your brain will turn to mush,

the unfortunate consequence

of for too long

placing strength of limb

before depth of soul.

Tiny globes of thought

revolve through

your universal,

sparing your mind

anything deeper than

pump and lift.

Your story is written-

you gave yourself to labor

never knowing the passion

of an unleashed

curiousity.

And so you grow old

your body tires

and gives up its fruit

that you so carefully

cultivated.

And in the end

when it is gone,

and your arms hang limp,

what will you have 

to believe in,

or even

to talk about?

~m

day TWENTY SEVEN

I saw beauty

Angel Fish

I saw you

day TWENTY SIX

It became widely known that Murray was indeed the mythical King of Hats ...

day TWENTY FIVE

Goodbye Old Man

Wrinkled face, stubbled and sagging

hallowed eyes that saw too much

thick cracked nails

on blotched, callused hands.

He suckles

cold glass teats,

against unforgiving brick-

pooled urine warming his

rancid house.

From layered filth,

his grape breath

fumes

through tears and gaps.

By night he passed-

Soul’s ruin 

ascending

through bottle spirits

blue.

By mourn he lay-

gutterface down,

still

is the discarded man.

~m

day TWENTY FOUR

Elvis knew the day his music ended had been a beginning; he was finally pursuing his true calling -- ribbon dancing. When he pranced with the ribbons, he felt he could touch their souls. They tipped generously, but the sand made his bed scratchy.

day TWENTY THREE

First Day of Spring

I'm blah

I don't know why

I just am.

There's really no reason for it

The sky is deep blue

Shoppers stroll up and down the sidewalks

swinging bags to and fro,

smiling because winter's almost done.

Robins are singing

Pigions are cooing

foraging at our feet.

A breeze is blowing

taking the tree's last leaves

Mothers with strollers

Babies with lollipops

Children wait on their buses

in short sleeves and shorts

The worlds seems alive again

and I'm -- blah,

but I'm starting to feel better.

day TWENTY TWO

INFERIOR LOGIC

i am therefore i think 

or at least i think i am

but if i were not

would i be or not be?

there's a question!

for if i were not

would i ever be?

and if I am not

will i ever be?

and if i am destined to be

am i who i think i am?

or just some other shmuck.

day TWENTY ONE

What can one say at the end but goodbye? It’s the bus station at 4 a.m. and the teller wants to go home and someone in the bathroom won’t come out and the floor’s not as shiny as the custodian would like and the vendor arrives to fill the machines and gum holds my shoes to the floor and first she won’t look at me and then she will and now I can’t look at her but I want to and the ceiling plays all the wrong music and none of the lights know what to do and buses come but no one gets off and then no buses come and then some come but they’re not buses and then the driver tells me I have to get off but I haven't finished the floor and my song is next in line to play.

day TWENTY

They came for the coffee and stayed for the show!

day NINETEEN

IF I COULD

If I could

I would raise

all the enlightened ones

all the forgotten ones

All the saints

the martyrs

the teachers

all the innocents

If I could

I would soar with the eagles

and live in the trees

forget

all the poverty

and sickness

and

pass judgement

on no one

If I could

day EIGHTEEN

Endings are beginnings with their hats on backwards. Back into them, if you like, or embrace them; for life's a moving path and you're on it. It's a choice: look forward or backward; ponder the future or dwell in the past; or live for tomorrow, in the moment, today, right now.

day SEVENTEEN

BLANK            PERIOD

end of story 

day SIXTEEN

Dear Santa,

I want to discuss those bones you give me every year. It's not that I don't appreciate what you're doing, I do, but they're pretty much exactly the same brand I get everyday so there's nothing special there. I do like the wrapping paper but that's only good for a little while. 

What I'd really like is one of those GPS locator thingies so I can keep track of my human. She gets away from me way too often and I'm afraid someday I won't get her back. In fact, she's lost right now and I'm worried. Nothing seems familiar to me when she's gone. I don't smell anyone I know and that scares me. Incidentally, a voice recorder would also be handy, as I'm dictating this in my head and probably won't remember most of it later. And not a cheap one either; one with a good microphone, so it picks up my woofs, but not all the background noise. The playback on those cheap ones is awful.

Gotta run. I think I see my human. Thanks for the chat, and if you find a present from me under the tree this year, you might want to step over it this time.

Bowzi

day FIFTEEN

I shot this lovely couple's wedding in 2008, and prior to that, they asked me to take shots for their wedding announcement. 

Nothing beats photographing people at sunset on the beach. The light is extraordinary.

Soon, you'll see their wedding gallery at www.michaelmcbride.com.

day FOURTEEN

This passion flower is the size of a quarter and contains petals, pistles, bristles, pods, leaves and just about every color under rainbow. Looked like it came here from Mars. I'd not seen one before. 

I shot it on Fuji Sensia 100 film with my Canon Elan 7NE and a Sigma 105mm F2.8 macro lens. I taped the flower to the end of a pencil and built a jig to hold it upright directly under the lens. The flower hide the pencil and jig from view. I used no flash, but instead reflected natural light from gold foil that I held in one hand and move around until I liked the shadows. I shot handheld and had to rock back and forth while holding my breath to get the parts I wanted in sharp focus, as my depth of field was extremely shallow.

In post, I removed the color and cleaned up a bit of dust. This shot was completed in 2007 and was shown along with 19 other images of the flower at a gallery in Venice, Florida.

day THIRTEEN

Black and white abstract photography from a series I did in 2007. 

About the size of a pencil point, this petal jutted out of the side of a bird of paradise growing on a golf course near my home in Sarasota, Florida. 

I exposed Fuji Provia film shooting hand-held with a Canon Elan 7NE and a Sigma 300mm F4 lens. 

With the exception of some minor contrast adjustments and a bit of dust clean up in post production, the image was entirely created in-camera. 

The full series will be available for viewing on www.michaelmcbride.com in the near future. 

day TWELVE

This is from the last wedding I shot at Selby Gardens, Sarasota, FL. More beautiful it could not have been.

I actually exposed this shot properly, then later altered it during post-production to get the effect. 

The couple loved it. 

day ELEVEN

THE WANT AD

I old lady

need old man

to go for walks

and pick up cans.

My eyes are fair

my palms are rough

my back is bent

my soul is tough.

And if you care

that will be 

enough.

day TEN

God Bless America

day NINE

To be honest, this wasn’t very smart, because I actually fell asleep and dreamed.

day EIGHT

HERO

On his knee

 I learned of the world 

and the way of all things

In his eyes

the truth I saw

the path I found

to walk as a man 

From his lips

I heard my name

I knew myself

and found my voice

His mind imagined me

His heart created me

His love embraced me

I am his son

He is my Father

He will always me my hero.

 

day SEVEN

The Dance

And not knowing the length

or the breadth, it was

they gathered

and she moved

among them

slowly

as if

naughty

she let them touch

but it was not her and they

left to go but she would not let go

and they stayed

not to go.

day SIX

When she looks at me I hear her voice. It's as clear as a bell. Somehow, she hears mine too. We often speak with no sound. But she's not long for this world now. Soon, she'll be reborn human and she'll approach me in public and she'll say "Brandee says hello" and she'll smile and wink and turn and walk away and I'll be left standing there, wondering.

Read "The Art of Racing in the Rain." It will change you.