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Best Film Poems

Below are the all-time best Film poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of film poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Premium Member Poem | Details | Film Poem | |

The Farewell Performance

His rheumy eyes film over and he brushes away a tear
with the age-spotted back of his hand.
He watches himself as a young man –
handsome, vigorous, full of joie de vivre.
The members of his orchestra now arthritic.
Or ashes long since scattered into oblivion,
like the beautiful soprano in the film.
But for the duration of the archive footage
they are all young again.
The film ends and their philharmonic youth
is silent memory once more.
He struggles to press rewind but his gnarled finger 
presses fast-forward by mistake.
He thinks that time has been on fast-forward
and wishes he could find the rewind control for his life.
With a sigh, he presses play and fades away,
watching his immortal youth.

| Details | Film Poem | |

New Future Of The Internet

New Future Of The
Internet


Cable cost are up
too high
You turned to the
internet and so have
I

My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
video shows

I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go

For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows

Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
							
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
too
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you

Aviation, taxidermy,
and crafty wood
works
Viewwithme Youtube
has all the quirks 

The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a
bore

Animal friends, I
haven’t forgotten
you
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too

Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
you
And a simple click
is all you have to
do

A lot of shows with
a mix for all
Like demolition
derby or a stunt so
tall

So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
see
 
By: Doris Anne
Beaulieu
     
https://www.youtube.com/user/Viewwithme

Premium Member Poem | Details | Film Poem | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
                        
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
   
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               
                             Mom

| Details | Film Poem | |

Leonardo DiCaprio

Dedicated to my love: Leonardo DiCaprio

For how many years have I loved you
I think it has to be about eighteen
We were both so young in those days
But I still longed to be your queen
With each film I fell more in love
With each role you reminded 
"This is what true talent is made of"
Beautiful Leonardo
How keenly I feel
How much I love you
Probably too much, but still
You have shown true beauty
You have shown true grace
You're a perfect specimen
Of the human race
You are of the greatest actors 
Of this generation and more
For there will never be another
That I so much adore

| Details | Film Poem | |

THE COLOR PURPLISH

The man on the porch looks out
over his property and towards his daughter.
Nervousness seeps through her plum-dark flesh.
Each eye contact signposts a wicked meditation.
Women are voiceless in those days, yielding to
males and manipulated Bible verses.
Poverty and childbirth loiters the screen.
White men protect segregation and Black men protect pride.
Are there no advocates or women’s lib
in that part of the South? Does anyone care about the mistreated?
Even the animals are sinister, and the young babes.
Horses burdened with stuff amble the pasture.
Fried ham wafts from kerosene stoves.
All the outspoken women are rebellious and prostitutes.
They wear thigh-high skirts, halters, and ruddy rouge.
Men swagger about in cut-price suits, wingtips, and thin-band ties.
They sweat into juke-joints or atop a squeaky bedframe
while records scratch against a dusty needle.
The girl in the front yard runs through hanging sheets
and swings bound books against Mister’s groin.
Her eyes are watery, her hair wild as those purple flowers.
She peers down at her attacker twisted on the red clay
and she shrieks.
Nobody shows up to save her.
She runs off into nothing.

Premium Member Poem | Details | Film Poem | |

SNIPPETS, A SONNET FOR ANDREA


Your brows are up. The Princess Cinema
is not your choice. C'mon, I don't fit here,
you snort. You, with all your charisma 
and kindness, stand in a short line, fearing

boredom or worse ... pretense. Promise me,
that we aren't about to wallow through
subtitles, you sigh.  Give me clarity,
a story, something that I can relate to.

But the charm catches you by surprise,
a star-struck atmosphere, the seats are new
and the popcorn is still warm. Friendly eyes
laugh, then amusement streams from you

for these Global TV spots simply delight
like each snippet that you joyfully write.  







*The Princess Cinema in Waterloo shows mainly art films, 
butevery year it shows the International Television Commercial
Awards and they are awesome. Some make you cry.
Some are stunningly beautiful. Some are thought-provoking.
And some are just very touching. 

Blog to follow soon! 

| Details | Film Poem | |

Princesses

Pretty princesses
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Very beautiful
Just like you!

Premium Member Poem | Details | Film Poem | |

THE SHINING

The old Overlook Hotel has a tradition of sin and devilment,
souvenirs of the rich. Lovely, yes, but its vista is farseeing,
its death grip far-reaching, and certain rooms stay secretive.
A caretaker axed his pretty daughters, now two changelings 
prowl the opulent halls, somberly stare. Stale air is redolent
with slaughter. Something malevolent welcomes strangers.

Jack Torance, writer, is hired to loosen winter’s stranglehold 
on the isolated, closed resort. Jack’s gifted son, Danny, reviles
his disturbing visions and he quakes at bloodbath predictions.
Wendy, Jack’s loyal wife, fights for family, for their welfare
Jack hurt Danny but is now sober. Promises were exchanged.
Kind Mr. Halloran, the chef, sits with the boy and secretly

tells him of the shining, how some detect the sorrow-secretions
of those departed, how the dead replay roles in the strangest
ways. Avoid room 237, he warns, what is there won’t change.
Danny pedals his big wheels fast down the halls of the devil
as his father somehow disappears, going faster and farther 
than the river of blood only the boy sees, a flood of deep red.

Jack is cruel, unstable, and he frightens Wendy. With dread,
she reads his meaty manuscript, horrified by a revealed secret,
knowing they are miles from help, Oh, dear God, they are so far
from civilization and Jack has retyped duplicate words, strangely,
page after unhinged page. Jack returns, says things that are so evil
that she strikes him with a bat, shocked by this psychotic change.

Wendy drags him into the pantry, locks it, praying he’ll change
back. She rests, but Danny screams and he has scrawled REDRUM 
on the door. The mirror deciphers the word, MURDER, as evil
arrives withan ax. What awful things the heart can keep secret,
He has sabotaged the Snowcat; they are powerless and stranded.
Wendy helps Danny escape through a small window, run far,

she weeps as Jack makes kindling of brittle wood, a plot farfetched 
yet one she must face. The mouse she has been for years changes
and she stabs his hand. Heaven knows, the soul is omnifarious,
Halloran comes, Jack leaves to plant the ax, a hero’s chest blooms red.
Danny watches what is left of his father die, cries out from his secret
hiding place, a chase ensues in a frozen maze; good outlives evil.


        So beware all wayfarers, avoid that next interchange
        for secrets fly in the dead of night, traveling the red-eye
        and evil can call home the lost, the touched and the very strange. 







*This is the a very contemporary sestina. It follows a free verse format with plenty of enjambment. The six end words are manipulated to such a point that the 'core' word is  often barely recognizable. 

I decided to challenge myself, show a sweet poet here that a sestina is only as dull as a scribe ALLOWS it to be, that we can stretch the limits of a form, retain most of its nerve system, but give it as much muscle as we wish! Another lovely poet here said to me recently, we write outside the box because there is NO box! 

I like to keep the box. The box is useful. It's a base. I cut windows in it. I paint the box and add a door. I put things I like in the box. I can happily sit in the box and dream or leave the box whenever I choose because it is MY box. The box is not a bad thing, but it IS only a thing...

I will be posting a blog about contemporary sestinas and the development of this one.

So, this is not the best poem I've ever written. LOL. It is actually a B MOVIE. But, I do think that I at least have written a sestina that is not boring and overly-repetitive! 

Hugs to you, Andrea... so, you likey? Or not so likey?

:D 



| Details | Film Poem | |

There's No Place Like Home

Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked  witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone  

Premium Member Poem | Details | Film Poem | |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  


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