Thick jumper wraps a weary frame,
A middle-aged man, no rush, no aim.
Down Swanston Street he drifts alone,
Among the crowds, yet still unknown.
The city hums, the footsteps blend,
Each step a story, no clear end.
In worn threads wrapped against the chill,
He moves through life, steadfast and still.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 842 and FACE OFF
Parade in Luoyang
In Luoyang’s heart, where ages sleep,
The cobbled streets their secrets keep;
And through the gate of ancient stone,
The echoes stir, the past is shown.
Men in robes of crimson thread,
With phoenix crowns upon their head,
Move proud beneath the lantern light—
A river flowing, bold and bright.
Their footsteps speak of kings and clay,
Of dynasties long passed away;
Yet here they march, in rhythm deep,
As if the land itself would weep.
Old town awakes in silk and song,
And time itself walks slow, and long.
Fujifilm Pro2
16-55mm f2.8
Check out Candid 829 and FACE OFF
Beneath the sunless Melbourne sky, he stood,
A crew-cut crown above his collar’s hood.
In monochrome, the city stilled its breath,
As lens and light danced near the edge of death.
He held a phone—his compass, guiding grace—
Among the stone and steel, he found his place.
Little Collins hummed with hurried feet,
While ghostly echoes marched in blur and beat.
To left, the buildings bowed in warped delight,
Their edges twisted, bending out of sight.
No architect had dreamt such curving lines—
It was the shutter’s spell, not man's designs.
A fastened eye, wide-open to the day,
Had caught the moment men would drift away.
The sensor’s speed, in chasing fleeting form,
Distorted calm, reshaped the city’s norm.
To right, a Coles truck idled, humming low,
Its crimson name now cloaked in shadow's glow.
Behind the man, a tide of life did swell—
A straddled bag, a story yet to tell.
And in this frame of fleeting time and grace,
A world unmeant found stillness in its place.
The camera wept what eyes could never keep:
The dream of day now locked in grayscale sleep.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 821
His face is split by the camera’s frame,
Caught side-on, unnamed, a flicker, a flame.
He walks too fast, a ghost in flight,
Slipping through the edge of sight.
Behind him, Hosier hums and calls,
Graffiti and murals crowd the walls—
A riot of colour, a frozen shout,
As he blurs past, fading out.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 820
Morning spills on Swanston Street,
Shadows stretch where footsteps meet.
Golden light, a soft ballet,
Across the tiles in quiet display.
Pedestrians pass in restless streams,
Drawn by duties, hopes, and dreams.
An elder moves with practiced grace,
Time etched deep upon his face.
To the right, his steady pace—
A calm within the urban race.
Opposite, young and still, a man,
Hair in a bun, lost in his plan.
They share a stage of tiled stone,
Together, yet each walks alone.
Two eras pause, the morning hums—
And city life in silence drums.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 816
On Russell Street where broths arise,
Steam curls beneath the dusky skies.
Each door a portal, warm and wide,
To ramen dreams that boil inside.
A gentleman in sweater thread,
With thoughtful steps and quiet tread,
Descends the lane in twilight's art,
And bites into a humble tart.
Its filling sweet, its crust so fine,
A subtle dance of fruit and brine.
While savory scents around him float,
He savors both—what shops promote,
And sweetness crumbling at his throat.
So moves he through that evening fair,
With tart in hand and ramen air—
A fusion walk of taste and time,
On Russell’s road, half prose, half rhyme.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 814
He strolls beneath the Southern sun,
An overseas son,
Tinted shades veiling his gaze,
As trams hum past in Swanston haze.
Before the Town Hall's solemn face,
He drifts, a stranger in this place—
Half in thought, half in scene,
Lost between what might have been.
Beside the curb, in floral rows,
The plastic petals primly pose,
Ever-blooming, never real,
Mocking time with cheap appeal.
Tax-fed blossoms, oddly proud,
Rootless beauty drawing crowd—
He walks by, unfazed, alone,
In a city never quite his own.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 813
On Swanston Street beneath the sky,
A young man scrolls as strangers pass by.
His eyes are fixed on a glowing screen,
Lost in a world that can't be seen.
Behind him stands a quiet gaze,
An Asian man in the city's haze.
He looks ahead with steady grace,
Unmoved by time, in his own place.
A delivery bike rests by the wall,
Wheels stilled in the evening sprawl.
Moments pause in the city’s hum—
Stories unfold, then swiftly come undone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 812 and FACE OFF
A young man walks with quiet grace,
Uphill he climbs, a steady pace.
Through Hosier Lane, where colors speak,
A canvas worn, where walls are sleek.
His sneakers tap on pavement old,
Among the spray of stories bold.
Each step he takes, a thought untold,
As graffiti whispers secrets cold.
Eyes lost in dreams, not bound by time,
In this wild world, he seeks a rhyme.
The street is loud, yet calm his soul,
A part of art, yet still whole.
His journey’s steep, but in his mind,
The answers wait, the peace he’ll find.
And through the walls, with hues so bright,
He walks, untangling day from night.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 810
A tall, slender man in a suit so neat,
Glides down Swanston with echoing feet.
His coat catches wind like a fleeting thought,
A figure of grace the morning forgot.
Phone in his hand, face lit by the screen,
Eyes on the glow, lost in the sheen.
Among the crowd, yet utterly lone,
Each soul adrift in a world of their own.
Trams hum past with a city’s refrain,
Umbrellas bloom in a whisper of rain.
The old stones watch with quiet delight,
At men made of flesh but minds made of light.
So he walks, like the rest—plugged and apart—
A shadow of steel with a fast-beating heart.
In the dance of the modern, the digital stream,
Reality bends like a half-faded dream.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 806
Down Little Bourke, mid city’s hum,
A man walks on, his fingers numb.
His hairline fades with time’s embrace,
Yet focus lights his solemn face.
Eyes fixed upon the glowing screen,
Unmoved by all the urban scene,
He drifts through crowds in silent zone,
A world away, yet not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 805
Upon Lonsdale Street, in twilight's shade,
A weary man, mid-years and grey,
With bottle dark in hand he strayed,
Its label long since peeled away.
A heavy sack upon his arm,
With secrets cloaked in cloth and thread,
He moved with neither haste nor charm,
Where quiet city footsteps led.
His beard was worn by time’s slow tide,
Now streaked with ash, with silver lined,
And through a strolling pair he tried
To weave his path, as if inclined—
By purpose strange, or whims unknown,
He wandered on, yet not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 803
Amid the rush on Swanston Street,
Where countless footsteps rise and meet,
A thousand faces glance and stray,
All chasing time, then swept away.
But through the tide of shifting heads,
Two walkers move like silver threads.
Their gaze is fixed, their posture proud,
Alone in focus, through the crowd.
No screens, no signs to draw their eyes,
They walk beneath the Melbourne skies,
As if they see a distant shore,
A quiet truth, a something more.
While city hums in scattered thought,
Their silent stride says all it ought—
In chaos, calm; in drift, direction,
Two souls in step with introspection.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 798
Through Melbourne’s streets, the riders came,
Wheels at rest, yet hearts aflame.
They dismounted, side by side,
Let the city be their guide.
Through Higson Lane, their footsteps slowed,
Where painted walls in colors glowed.
Graffiti voices, bold and bright,
Stories swirling in the night.
Neon letters, faces wide,
A rebel’s art, a city’s pride.
Each stroke, a whisper, wild and free,
A dialogue with history.
Their helmets hung, their hands at ease,
Lost in walls that spoke with breeze.
For though their journey paused that day,
The art would ride—forever stay.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 794
On Balmoral Ave, beneath the sky,
A man with a beanie, walking by.
His eyes are forward, his steps are sure,
While by his side, his wife’s gaze is pure.
She looks away, a thought in mind,
A quiet moment, a heart entwined.
They walk together, yet apart in pace,
Her eyes adrift, his face a steady grace.
In Springvale’s hum, they find their way,
Two souls who wander, yet words may stray.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 791
On Balmoral Ave, the crowd does roam,
A bustling street, where many call home.
A man walks by, his hands held high,
With bags of purchases, passing by.
He carries all, both near and far,
The weight of modern life in a jar.
Buy this, buy that, the cycle spins,
From goods to services, it never ends.
Electricity, gadgets, and more to claim,
Each item bought, each new gain.
In Springvale’s heart, he strides along,
A symbol of the world’s endless song.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 790
On Balmoral Avenue, where life moves fast,
A new winter's chill, a shadow cast.
A strain unseen, a threat to come,
The streets grow tense as fears are numb.
Yet there he walks, in casual grace,
A mask on his chin, not in place.
It hangs there low, a classic style,
As if the risk can be defiled.
The world grows cautious, yet he’s free,
Unmoved by warnings, wild with glee.
Through Springvale’s hum, his steps unfold,
A modern tale, both new and old.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 789
Through Springvale’s pulse, a steady flow,
A crowded street where faces go,
A man walks by, a brand so clear,
His coat, the mark of Puma here.
A walking ad, in hues so bright,
With every step, a brand in sight.
The busy street hums all around,
Where daily life and commerce pound.
The coat declares in bold array,
A symbol of the modern day,
In Springvale’s bustle, fast and wide,
The world of brands does not collide.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 788
In Springvale’s streets so bright and wide,
Where voices hum and cultures glide,
An Asian man walks, firm and tall,
A timeless grace, a presence bold.
His face is strong, a sculpted square,
A Han-born mark, both proud and rare.
One hand holds fast a glowing screen,
The other grips a bag unseen.
Through markets rich with spice and trade,
Where Vietnamese roots are deeply laid,
He moves with ease, with steps so light,
A man of past and present might.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 787
I was always advised that one should own several suits before embarking on a professional career. However, for the past twenty years, I have worn the same suit, now so worn that even the sleeves bear holes.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 784
