Off Exhibition, the city’s hum,
Where lights command and footsteps drum.
A man in shades, like silver screen,
Stands with his boy, a tender scene.
They wait for green, the crossing’s call,
The child’s small hand enclosed in all.
Beside them stands, with comic air,
A hat askew, a traveller there.
He tugs his strap, adjusts his load,
A wanderer upon the road.
Two moments caught, yet worlds apart—
The star, the fool, both play their part.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 921
In Hosier Lane where colours sing,
And painted walls to life still cling,
Two travellers pause in the sun’s embrace,
Shades on their eyes, the world in their face.
The phone glows bright with its secret chart,
Guiding their steps like a beating heart.
Among murals bold in the laneway’s hue,
They search for a path, yet the art finds them too.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 919
On Swanston Street, where trams hum low,
An Indian man lets the city flow.
Cup in hand, steam curling high,
Like incense drifting to the sky.
The bench holds still, the world moves fast,
Moments like this are never meant to last.
Sip by sip, in the midday light,
He drinks his peace in the urban flight.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out
Off Swanston Street where trams glide past,
A gent sits down, the crowd flows fast.
His frame is broad, his shirt stretched tight,
A beer gut round, in grayscale light.
But hush the world and let him play
His fingers dance, then drift away.
A melody both rich and clear
Pours from the keys, and draws you near.
No stage, no suit, no grand parade,
Just soul and song in light and shade.
Each note a tale, each pause a breath,
A beauty born from life and depth.
And though the photo’s black and white,
You hear the sound, you feel the light.
A gentle giant, slouched with grace,
Making music in a passing place.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 916
The chap with a cap on Little Flinders Lane,
Stands in the slant of a morning refrain.
With a cup in hand, he quietly sips,
A smoothie swirling at his lips.
Berry or mango—who’s to say?
His gaze drifts slow with the start of day.
Tram bells ring and footsteps pass,
While time runs thin through café glass.
No rush, no fuss, just city hum,
And fruit-blent calm where thinkers come.
A cap, a cup, and quiet poise
A moment soft in Melbourne noise.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 910
A young dude walks with easy flow,
A cap pulled low, a steady go,
Up Little Flinders’ quiet rise,
Beneath the pale and brooding skies.
His sneakers tap the cobbled way,
As morning hums in muted grey,
The city stirs, its heart still slow,
While shadows stretch and breezes blow.
No rush in stride, no heavy aim,
Just rhythm, step, and street-side frame
A soul in motion, calm and plain,
Ascending life on Flinders Lane.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 906
On Hosier Lane where colours gleam,
A canvas born of spray and dream,
One chap stands still with phone held high,
While shadows stretch and trams roll by.
Before the wall his muse appears,
A girl in shades, untouched by years,
She strikes a pose with calm and flair,
Graffiti flames behind her hair.
The lens now frames a fleeting truth,
Of city walls and blushing youth
Art on brick and love on show,
In Melbourne’s laneway afterglow.
No gallery needs golden frame,
Their moment lives without a name;
A photo snapped, a smile, a spark
And beauty caught in urban dark.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 905
A man walks with measured pace,
In weathered jeans, with timeworn grace,
Down Swanston Street, beneath the sun,
Where Melbourne’s rhythm softly runs.
Beside him strides a younger frame,
A girl of brightness none could tame—
Dark hair, a shimmer, sunglasses bold,
A phone in hand, the future told.
Two lives aligned for just a street,
A fleeting dance, the past and fleet,
He walks in thought, she taps and swipes,
Their worlds diverge, yet both alike.
A moment held in city light,
Of age and youth in shared delight,
No word exchanged, no need for sound—
Just footsteps echoing downtown.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out
Off Bourke Street’s curve in silver light,
A man on wheels begins his flight
Helmeted, silent, e-bike hum,
A shadow in the city’s thrum.
Behind, beneath a brooding sky,
A woman dressed in black walks by.
Her hat, a moon of quiet grace,
No rush, no fear upon her face.
She holds a hand, a boy’s small frame,
His steps unsure, yet not the same
For anchored firm in her still pace,
He walks the world with gentle grace.
Monochrome moments, soft and wide,
Lives in motion, paths that glide.
No words exchanged, yet somehow known
Each stranger walking not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 900
Upon The Causeway, still she sits,
In Melbourne’s hush where shadow knits
The woven light of afternoon
Into a monochrome cocoon.
A café chair, a frame of grace,
She lifts her eyes, a silent face
Held fast by thought, or winds unseen,
That stir the mind where none have been.
No coffee touched, no glance returns—
Only the distant skyline burns
Its outline through the softened grey
Of half-spent time and slipping day.
Her coat hangs loose, her hair undone,
The city moves, but she is one
With something past the tramline’s end,
A lost, invisible old friend.
She does not blink. The hour grows thin.
The world continues crowding in—
But on that chair she drifts apart,
A grayscale ghost with pulsing heart.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 898
A bald waiter moves with silent grace,
Wiping down each coffee trace.
On the Causeway where footsteps blend,
He tends the tables end to end.
A flick of cloth, a tilted plate,
He works beneath the café's weight.
The city's hum, the clink of cups,
The morning slowly gathering up.
No spotlight shines, no curtain call,
Yet in his rhythm, dignity tall.
A quiet craft, no need for fame—
Just honest work beneath his name.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 895
On Hosier Lane where the murals breathe,
A man walks uphill with sunlight sheathed—
Gleaming shades on his silent face,
Each step wrapped in the lane’s embrace.
His wife beside, her hand in his own,
Two shadows stretching on cobblestone.
She leans like memory, soft and near,
He leads like time with nothing to fear.
The walls around burst wild with hue,
But they move quiet, just passing through—
A moment framed in a painted land,
Love uphill, hand in hand.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 892 and FACE OFF
On Little Lonsdale, under silver skies, he stands
A bald man in suit, with upturned eyes and hands.
A microphone clutched like a herald’s call,
Words poised to rise above city’s sprawl.
A leather strapbag hugs his side, worn deep,
Stories stitched in folds it’s sworn to keep.
The satchel slung with a scholar’s grace,
Heavy with maps of a wandering place.
He does not speak, but listens to air,
To trams that sing and the footfall’s prayer.
In the hush between towers’ glass and stone,
He finds a pulpit in being alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 891
On Collins Street they walked as two,
Beneath the sky of cloud and blue.
Their steps were slow, their silence deep,
As though they bore a care they’d keep.
The husband wore his dark disguise,
His sunglasses veiling thoughtful eyes.
While on her head, in morning glare,
Her shades lay tangled in her hair.
Together yet each mind alone,
They wandered through the heart of stone—
In Melbourne's light, their shadows cast,
By present fears and echoes past.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 890
In the sun, she moves with quiet grace,
A pram before her, steady pace.
Down Swanston Street where footsteps flow,
Through the city’s midday glow.
The crowd surges, a restless stream,
Shadows flit and windows gleam.
But she — a calm within the tide,
With a plaid of hair swung to one side.
The tram bell rings, the pigeons stir,
Yet all the world slows down for her.
A mother’s rhythm, firm yet light,
Carving day from neon light.
Melbourne pulses, grand and wide,
But still she walks, with time beside.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 888
A flash of lycra, vivid, tight,
A helmet gleams in morning light.
Down Elizabeth, swift and free,
A biker blurs like poetry.
The city hums, the pavement sings,
Wheels spin dreams on fleeting wings.
Steel and flesh in motion blend—
A rush, a roar, the street’s own friend.
Between the buildings tall and gray,
The cyclist carves a fleeting way.
With every pedal, swift and sure,
The pulse of Melbourne rides secure.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 887
Laughter on Bourke
He sat in sun, a man of years,
With laughter loud that chased the fears,
In sunglasses, his joy a flare
That split the noon with blazing care.
Beside him, quiet, his small young son,
A shadow short beneath the sun,
Looked up as if to catch the fire
That lit his father's brief desire.
The street around, a surging tide,
With trams and heels and time's long stride,
Yet in that pause the world stood still—
Just sun and blood, and love’s goodwill.
A city’s heart beat all around,
But sweeter was that human sound:
A father's laugh, deep-cut and real,
That spoke what mouths can’t always feel.
On Bourke they sat, mid noon’s wide sprawl,
Two lives adrift, yet held by all—
By sunlight, kinship, breath, and grace,
And joy that time cannot erase.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 886 This has been one of the top 10 favorite posted on my blog here
(Same poem as yesterday)
A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.
With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.
Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.
He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.
Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out
On Flinders Street in winter's breath,
Where light is low and still as death,
A family walked through morning's grey,
Their shapes cast long in soft decay.
One teenage boy stepped just ahead,
His gaze afar, thoughts loosely spread.
Behind, the father pushed the pram,
Its wheels in rhythm, slow and calm.
A younger child lay nestled deep,
Half-dreaming in a winter sleep.
The city's stir passed all around,
Yet peace within that pram was found.
The mother walked with silent grace,
Dark glasses veiled her watching face.
She turned to me—no smile, no frown,
Just knowing as she looked me down.
No need for words, no need for sound,
The tramline sang, the world spun round.
And in that frame of black and white,
They carried love through morning light.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 882
In Hosier Lane where shadows dwell,
And cobbled streets their secrets tell,
A man and woman paused their stride
To gaze into the sky wide-eyed.
Graffiti flared on every wall,
Yet they saw past the painted sprawl—
Not colours bold or rebel scrawl,
But something vast beyond it all.
Their heads were tilted, side by side,
Their breath a mist the cold supplied.
In black and white the moment stayed,
Two figures caught in light and shade.
What did they seek above the stone?
A passing bird, a world unknown?
The clouds perhaps, or trailing plane,
Or simply wonder, pure, unfeigned.
No words were said, no need to speak,
The silent sky was wide and bleak.
But in that hush, as time slipped by,
They touched the edge of winter’s sky.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 881
