Photographing Fireworks
Photographing Fireworks
by Ben Macnair
We stand watching,
hear the oohs, and the aahs,
the click and the flash of the camera
invisible against a night sky
decorated by man made fireflies.
In the same way that bloggers relive
the monotony of everyday experience,
hoping to make one lasting connection
with a complete stranger,
or poets hope to relive one moment
for their reader,
nobody really cares.
All that wasted energy and noise.
All this useless beauty.
Time spent in the pursuit of an experience
that shouts
I was here.
I did that.
That was me.
All we have to show is a shadow.
Reflections, blobs of falling embers in a sky already full of wonder,
and rather than living the experience, we collect it.
These moments are gifts.
They are not investments.
Live them.
Share them.
Be them.
Do not swap a shared experience
for a talent for photographing fire-works.
Yeah, but the poem gives that the ironic lie with such dazzling lines as “decorated by man made fireflies,” “All that wasted energy and noise,” “All this useless beauty,” “Reflections, blobs of falling embers in a sky already full of wonder;” the list goes on and on. The thought is good, but the “swap” is overpowering. Way to go, anyway.
Is each comparison a fleeting firework in the poetics, meant to light up the verse individually; competing with each other for headspace- smile monuments building up the oohs and ahhs in succession for that finale insight provided at the close? Good show…almost as good as last years….