Portraits of Poetry

About The Print Store

Through the purchase of a Portraits of Poetry print-through our independent store, you will be directly supporting future T.P.S projects. All money earned, will directly fund our next project ‘In Stillness’, and allow us to turn it into a physical art exhibition. Each print being sold is a personally designed collage photo of shots from P.O.P. Each image was hand ripped and scanned by us. They all vary in size from A2 to A4, but personally requested sizes can be made. On top of this, all photos in this project can be requested for print, you will just need to message the T.P.S page or the email provided.Contact Email: [email protected]om

• Print Store

You look at me,
loose, unkempt, unchanging,
Placing a rose tinted sheen upon myself,
It is blinding.

Here I am, fearful, unsteady
Here I was, together.
Forever in limbo unknown,
Waiting for the day,
when judgement comes home.

I fear you, and always will,
Mesmerized by your heavenly glow.
I will never be, what you are,
That completing part, distant and far.

Here I am - Vol.2

I try to hold it together,
But the trembling, it swallows me whole.
You see within, I feel insecure,
Your eyes look upon, always pure.

A true reflection is never seen,
Only what has formerly been.
Cast like a shadow once forgotten
Eating away at what we’ll never have.

Written by: Caleb Cameron - Keegan Williams
Photos by: Caleb Cameron - Mish

Life hangs empty, sparse, uneventful,
we will upon ourselves excitement,
mark each moment with story, meaning.
Forgetful of the stillness in everything
The random assortment of matter, things, places.
The true lack of organized meaning.

We need a constant stream of hollow things,
because if we don’t, if we remember,
remember what we are, who we aren’t,
what we will never be. Than we might lose ourselves

We push onwards, pouring our thoughts down the drown,
uncaring of which go and which stay.
Value and importance become muddled when nothing is left.
What problems could be fixed if we stop?
That is what we tell ourselves,
never understanding sounds of silence.

Photos by: Caleb Cameron - Liam Ganter - Keegan Willaims - Mish
Written by: Caleb Cameron

Sounds Around - Vol.1

Things were once not a part of the past,
but were segmented in the unknown,
unwritten, unmaded.
Memories form, memories fade,
become backdrops to emotions once felt.

Habit embodies the worried mind,
the habit of lost thought, forgotten times, distant needs.
She looks to herself, and looks away,
scared of what she doesn’t understand.

Habit is the mind killer, the thing chains us to regret.
Things on top of things, we are compelled to obsess over never stopping,
never compromising, never giving in to an end, a stopping point.
because if we do, we sit alone with what we fear.

We forget to sit, take in the sounds around,
the place which our feet touch, the wind which whisps across our skin.
It is beautiful around here the woman thinks, rain drops hitting deep within.
The last moments of the city night roll in, as the lights around begin to fade.

Sounds Around - Vol.1

Things were once not a part of the past,
but were segmented in the unknown,
unwritten, unmaded.
Memories form, memories fade,
become backdrops to emotions once felt.Life hangs empty, sparse, uneventful,
we will upon ourselves excitement,
mark each moment with story, meaning.
Forgetful of the stillness in everything
The random assortment of matter, things, places.
The true lack of organised meaning.Habit embodies the worried mind,
the habit of lost thought, forgotten times, distant needs.
She looks to herself, and looks away,
scared of what she doesn’t understand.We need a constant stream of hollow things,
because if we don’t, if we remember,
remember what we are, who we aren’t,
what we will never be. Than we might lose ourselvesHabit is the mind killer, the thing chains us to regret.
Things on top of things, we are compelled to obsess over never stopping,
never compromising, never giving in to an end, a stopping point.
because if we do, we sit alone with what we fear.We push onwards, pouring our thoughts down the drown,
uncaring of which go and which stay.
Value and importance become muddled when nothing is left.
What problems could be fixed if we stop?
That is what we tell ourselves,
never understanding sounds of silence.We forget to sit, take in the sounds around,
the place which our feet touch, the wind which whisps across our skin.
It is beautiful around here, the woman thinks, rain drops hitting deep within.
The last moments of the city night roll in,
and thus concludes the sounds around.

Photos by: Caleb Cameron - Liam Ganter - Keegan Willaims - Mish Written by: Caleb Cameron

Meet me by the sun-kissed shadows
Sat upon fields of emerald meadows
Biding time beneath grand willow trees
Excited by all the small subtleties

I watched close as you picked daisies
Clasping hope on such sweet mirage
Alas! This veil has been torn
No longer blinded by façade

And it’s only now that I see why
Energy drained, stargazing high
I’ve trapped melancholy deep inside
But there is euphoria standing by

Photos by: Caleb Cameron - Keegan Willaims - Mish
Written by: Keegan William

Sun-kissed Shadows - Vol.3

Making claim of a story untold
Predicting destiny as it unfolds
To warm our hearts from emerging winter
While shy confidence skips along