A man in shades on Flinders Street,
Crouched mid-step, in pose discreet,
A fist beneath his sculpted chin,
As if deep thought were caged within.
Beside him walked, with mirrored eyes,
His blonde companion, cool, precise,
Her stride unbent, her silence sleek,
The sunlight glinting on her cheek.
The crowd flowed past — a restless stream,
Yet they moved through, a frozen dream,
Two figures framed in city glare,
Half in fashion, half in air.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check Candid 1007
A chap in shorts, legs crossed with ease,
sits on the iron bench, sunlit, at Bourke Street Mall
the noon warmth paints his knees with gold,
the city hums, a tram bell calls.
Shadows drift like passing moods,
a breeze tugs softly at his sleeve;
around him, shoppers flow like tides,
but he — he stays, content to breathe.
Melbourne glows in tempered glass,
and time, for him, forgets to move
a chap in shorts beneath the sun,
at peace with nothing left to prove.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 1004
He stands beneath the wide city sky,
cap pulled low, T-shirt loose,
hands alive upon the electric keys
a melody rising above the noon.
Shoppers drift like quiet waves,
trams sigh past in steel refrain,
yet his voice threads through it all
a bright pulse woven into motion.
Coins fall softly in his open case,
but he does not count—he sings,
eyes half-closed, body swaying
as if the music were wind inside him.
The city becomes his stage and choir:
awnings flutter, heels keep time,
pigeons turn slow circles overhead.
And for a moment, Bourke Street glows
each note a spark against the hum,
the man and the mall breathing as one.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 1003
By Albert Park Lake in Melbourne’s chill,
a young chap stood, poised and still
man bun tight, a Viking’s air,
the morning light caught in his hair.
In his hands, a slender staff—
at either end, twin circles laughed,
spinning, flashing, slicing air,
a dance of metal, bold and rare.
He moved with rhythm, fierce and free,
each turn a whispered melody,
the lake reflected sky and flame,
and he—untamed—without a name.
Joggers slowed, the breeze grew keen,
the water shimmered, silver-green;
the blades kept turning, wild delight
a Norse ghost playing in the light.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 993
Bare-chested beneath the awning’s shade,
he sits with his guitar, half in dream—
the strings sigh softly, a golden seam
stitched through the city’s passing parade.
Rain-slick pavement mirrors light,
trams glide by in a silver blur;
his voice, low ember, seems to stir
the air between the day and night.
People pass—umbrellas bloom,
phones glow pale in drifting hands;
yet still he plays, as though he stands
in some cathedral made of gloom.
Unnoticed saint of Swanston Street,
his song spills warm where cold winds meet.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check Out Candid 969
In Centre Place,
where voices echo against brick and steam,
a young man in glasses
leans forward, pen ready.
Menus curl in his hands,
patrons lift their eyes—
a question, a smile,
the scratch of order on a page.
Around him,
cups clink, chairs scrape,
the lane hums with roasting beans
and the shuffle of passing coats.
He gathers their words
like coins in a till,
steady,
while the city
keeps breathing past the doorway.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 967
By the river’s edge,
in a glass-walled room of murmured cutlery,
a gentleman in darkened shades
leans toward the page before him.
The menu glows with afternoon light,
letters flickering like ripples
cast from the Yarra.
Outside, the water moves,
inside, he studies choice—
wine, or silence,
meat, or memory.
Through tinted lenses
he gazes outward,
yet keeps his eyes hidden—
a private tide
flowing beneath Melbourne’s
busy Southbank air.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 965 and FACE OFF
In Little Collins Street, he hides,
Shadowed by brick and whispered tides.
Earbuds hum a private stream,
A world inside, a hidden dream.
Footsteps echo, brisk and small,
Neon flickers against the wall.
A melody or talk drifts near,
Only he can catch, only he can hear.
Smoke of the city curls around,
Steel and glass, a distant sound.
Alley folds him like a secret note,
Music or podcast, on him it floats.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8
Check out Candid 955
Laneway breathes in hush,
chalkboard words like soft confessions,
steam drifts into sky.
Screens glow in their hands,
faces turned to private worlds,
the city looks on.
Graffiti prayers fade,
yet the shutter holds them still
strangers stitched by light.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out
A man and his giant shadow of fur,
stride steady through the narrow street.
The dog’s paws echo like soft drums,
marking time against the city’s hum.
Bicycles lean,
cars gleam,
but it is the quiet bond between walker and beast
that bends the lane into rhythm.
People pass,
signs blur,
yet in this moment—
the city belongs to two companions,
carving their way through Melbourne’s breath.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 946
A waiter stands in footie pride,
With “AFL” across his side.
He casts a glance, a knowing sign,
To draw me in, to sit, to dine.
Off De Graves Street, lanes awake,
With clatter, chatter, scents to take.
His eyes invite, his smile implores,
To step within through open doors.
I hold my lens, the street’s my frame,
Yet feel the tug of his small game.
Between the shutter and the seat,
Temptation lingers in the street.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 942
Off De Graves Street,
beneath the laneway’s hush,
a father leans into a table’s comfort,
cap tilted,
tattoo ink coiled upon his leg
like a memory written in skin.
Two boys beside him,
bright in their footy shirts,
shoulders knocking in the smallness of youth,
eyes wide with the ordinary feast.
Plates clatter,
the city breathes around them,
but here
in this narrow corner of Melbourne
a family meal becomes
its own quiet monument.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 938
On De Graves Street,
he settles into the chair’s embrace,
a small table before him
like an island of pause
amid the city’s restless tide.
Shorts bare his knees to the morning air,
yet the photograph permits no season
only the hush of black and white,
where his coffee steams invisibly,
a secret warmth the lens refuses.
Here he leans,
cup lifted in quiet ritual,
as though the whole lane
were distilled to this moment:
a man, a table,
and time poured slowly
into porcelain.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 937
Amid the hum of De Graves Street,
A young chap lets his eyes retreat,
Footsteps drum in rhythmic flow,
Yet stillness blooms where he lets go.
Faces blur and voices rise,
He finds a calm beneath the skies,
In the crowded pulse of day’s parade,
A quiet pause, unafraid.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check Candid 932
Off Collins Arcade,
a man in a wide-brimmed hat
hauls a heavy bag,
its weight tugging at his shoulder.
His shirt, thin with wear,
clings to him in the afternoon light,
nipples pressing forward,
stark as punctuation marks
against the fabric’s looseness.
Beside him his spouse keeps pace,
steps in quiet rhythm,
their figures slipping
into the current of Swanston Street,
two lives moving forward,
ordinary, unadorned,
yet etched sharply
against the city’s hum.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 925
On Swanston Street beneath the sky,
A man in monochrome walks by.
With polo crisp and trousers neat,
He strides along the Melbourne heat.
Sunglasses poised, a borrowed air,
Of nonchalance too sharp to wear.
His Nordic frame, upright and tall,
Pretends he doesn’t care at all.
But shadows know what cool can’t hide
The flicker of a smile inside.
A city moment, caught in grace,
Of style, and pose, and time, and place.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 917 and FACE OFF
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
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
On Bourke Street Mall where footsteps pass,
He sits alone on iron brass
A bearded man, both still and slow,
Eyes cast down where shadows grow.
His coffee cup rests in his hand,
No rush to sip, no firm demand.
The world moves by in steady stream,
While he dissolves into a dream.
The hum of trams, the chatter near,
All fold into a silence clear.
As if the ground could speak below,
He listens deep to what he knows.
No sign, no plea, no spoken word,
Just thoughts that flutter, faint, unheard.
A quiet figure none may see
But in his stillness, poetry.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 902
