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Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby
Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby
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Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby

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Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby
Gulnara Valizhanovna Jabbarova

“Photosecrets” is a poetic analysis of photographic thinking, hidden essence of random photographs in exotic Bhutan, in mysterious India, in charming France, in good old England. Photo exaggeration is an opportunity to penetrate the secret world of a movie star. The book’s cover and the book were illustrated with photographs taken from free photo stocks. The book is dedicated to my favorite artist Lee David Ingleby (Inspector Gently, Criminal UK, Crossfire, and The Hunt for Raoul Moat).

Photosecrets of Lee David Ingleby

Gulnara Valizhanovna Jabbarova

© Gulnara Valizhanovna Jabbarova, 2023

ISBN 978-5-0059-9887-3

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

One-eyed moon

Sticky moon

Some one’s else welfare,
That keeps eyebrow in horror and fear.
Sticky moon, scared mask,
Looks at the Earth, and ask:

What vulgar people is this?

Red mouth bitten in blood, bitten lips twist:

Crooked teeth cannot eat that much!
Scrambled eggs down at my fat face!
How many of them! Oh, space!
Steel capsule covered my eye in coin!
Dipped in deep lovers to count and settle accounts!
I am trembling, trembling at night and light!

MY SOUL, LORELEI

My soul, Lorelei,
In desperation.
I’m flying to you and running away.
She covered her eyes without to say,
With hands.

I’m flying to you and running away,
Like jumping into the abyss.
At the hour, when the sunset is so lovely.
And a monk rejects everything way,
Chanting radiance in Heaven without to say.
Time is like a film, it splay.

My soul, Sappho,
Freezing in being.
I am running to her, to Phaon,
And running away.

My hands, my feet spinning around me,
Like a disk.
Splash, in the middle of it,
Inside the frame, it’s me.

Zephyr’s force the game to play,
The Earth’s gravity the time to say.
Its attraction is the grave,
Silent Guernica waiting for milk.

Will I spill there,
Your son, seduced by you?
Through my milk necklace.
Motherhood is like an abyss,
To disappear.
A second before waking up
Your bumblebee,
Oh, Galla!

LIKE A MOTHER’S BREAST

Like a mother’s breast,
Like the number six,
You can’t remember
The beauty of the Taj.

And this contrast is woven
Lunar escape light.
You will fight,
You will cream into the radio station.
A fans over you, like
Acacias leaning.
All you need is standing ovation.
Small ship in the desert real,
You forgot the world «mutacabbir».

IN PREDESTRUCTION

Cracks, in the flow like leaves.
Silent «Mu» calls.
The creaky rusty world froze.
Darkening, the Earth flies and the birds,
Another moment, the bell ring,
Newspapers will sing,
The rusting world crumbles,
With black earth blood,
Through crakes flow in time,
Shooting and running, will fly.
Soldier blind sighted human tribe,
Will collapse like yours half – mask on the fly,
Mara will fly, only «Mu» will stay.

WHITE

An elephant is filadelf of light.
The real is gray and scabrous,
Like eye, like ear, like trunk, like head.

But, my infant,
The truth is out of that.
An elephant can torn me.
An elephant can torn of me.
And white one of moon can be.

Pokered face

Pokered face, joker cat
You can smile:

Look at me! I am, Lee!

And you say:

If I thin or if I fat,
Close your eyes, sunny boy,
Let’s enjoy!

SPIDER HANDS

Close, close, close,
So, beautiful to lose.
Hide your nose,
This is your choose!

Who is needs gray hair old?
To beard? To oppose?
No, shout your eye, shooter.
Let us, shorter!

Youth is in fashion.
We don’t need a procession.
Everyone should shave!
Come on, listen to me, brave!
Let the beard to disappear on lands.

Yes, but you have spider hands.

TATTOO

Young as a tulip and beautiful,
Like the face of a pensive moon.

Blanched Seed,
You are like
A coin in mouth, who is died.

Roots in the shade,
Will grab you by the throat,
And ringing, ringing cloister bell.
Head, promised, to the time,
Like a mandrake old,
You out off the ground.

White swirls heir curl into wrinkles ̶
Elbow pain.
And you are not you.
Peacock train,
Like Argus.

DREAMING OF SUNNY DAYS

Dreaming of sunny days, I am crying,
Where are you sunny boy?
Where are you little sneakers?
Who run so fast and give me enjoy?

How the summer days end,
Here, we are along in the sand
Of time,
Deprived of the warmth heart
Of life.

How coffee gets cold.

Sandman crumbled long ago.
He is not a little monster anymore.
What haunts you at night,
To kiss and turn off the light.

TOUCHING THE FEET

Ah, this ballet in shadows,
Allow me to caress your legs,
With a glance touching the feet, what
Like doves flatter and dance.