Best Cameraman Poems
We cured death on a Tuesday,
launched the trial on a Thursday,
by Friday, 14% of the test group
was gnawing on the janitorial staff.
Still, the press was kind.
“Remarkable resilience,” they wrote,
as Unit 42A chewed through its restraints,
and tried to bite a cameraman.
We called them SoulSavers™,
engineered for eternal youth,
a proprietary blend of nanites, CRISPR,
and just a dash of hubris.
ReVive™ hit the market with glowing ads:
"Because Forever is a Family Value."
But the legal fine print… oh, the fine print:
May cause mild memory loss, spontaneous moaning, and cannibalistic cravings.
They rose in boardrooms first,
CEOs with perfect teeth
tearing into interns
like gourmet hors d'oeuvres.
By Q3, the infection was global,
but stocks soared--
because someone monetized the mayhem,
packaged brains in biodegradable boxes.
The living now hide in Costco bunkers,
bartering soup for silence,
while ReVive™’s jingle
plays softly from every abandoned screen:
“You can’t spell ‘afterlife’ without 'life'--
Sign here, and live again!”
So yes, we cured death.
We also cured peace.
And now we walk among the ruins,
clawing for comfort,
with half a heart and half a face,
still under warranty.
Author's Note:
This poem is what happens when you read Tom Woody’s contest prompt and accidentally engage the undead half of your brain. It’s a free verse romp through biotech gone wrong, corporate chaos, and a sprinkle of satire. No contest entry--just undead fun.
Black and white butterfly a rare single sighting
Idealized image caught upon film
Beautiful bounding insect drinking nectar
Against such colorful contrast of orange Lantana
A wonderful shot snapped in a twinkle of the eye
Photo snapped by a trained eye and skilled cameraman
A picturesque scene to last a lifetime
Amazing photography work hangs upon the museum wall
The butterfly flits about
Tasting each sweet nectar
Never remaining in one place
Reminder of the spectra
Black and white a beautiful sight
Mixed colors like choices
First on roses then foxglove's blooms
Silent is their voices
Orange Lantana is not special
This butterfly is fickle
Wanting faithfulness receiving
Dishonesty's prickles
Few Words, Few pictures, News
Thousand narrations to same story
Every day a new story
…
Journalism, an art to write
Whether truth is perceived or false
None care, just write it.
…
Coverage of war or peace
Hidden remains the agenda of brokers
Cameraman with presenter on TV
…
What is shown, repeat telecast?
Same images, and same footage again
As seen on cable TV
…
Magazine, periodicals, articles and letters
People read and contribute searching truth
Some are victims, others spectators
…
Morphed I did see, pictures
Some well crafted, some under bad hands
Every agency has a news
…
Reports, articles, statistics and surveys
Core contents of the daily news papers
2 page news, rest advertisements.
…
New flash, breaking news and updates
Presidential speeches, parliament debates and reality shows
Twenty four seven TV channeled
…
Melodies, drums and orchestra played
Dramas, shows, politricks and business
Echoing; let the shows begin.
…
FT, BBC, CNN, News corp. Siasat
Created, supplied, edited, published, blogged, or uploaded
Chinese whisper crawl in their veins.
…
28.29/04/10
death death and more death
will there ever be
better time to start and see
what went wrong with us
from first time we thought
would never happen to us
that is when it did
two people were dead
not doing anything wrong
on an interview
why oh why oh why
should such a thing have happened
young not in their prime
could never guess why
killer had done such a thing
to ever happen
bring them back to us
now but know it is too late
to see them again
death death and more death
hope one day it all did end
a problem no more
Don't know any better way that
I could ever say it better then this.
Them we will so sadly miss. Not
in haiku but meant what I said.
I did not capitalize God in order
to maintain haiku consistency.
Could never have put in a word
cameraman anywhere. Replaced
it with word person. I understand
that haiku is not supposed to have
punctuation or capitalism. Is this
correct? Not sure about verb tenses
in second to last stanza.Is this
correct? Smoothness doesn't
always seem to be an attribute
of haiku. Jim Horn
You may take photo,
hey you cameraman there,
but I will not share
choco of my hand with you!
should I give another pose?
© kashinath karmakar
====================
Placement:10th (April 2011)
by:kashinath karmakar (10th April 2011)
Contest:Baby Babbles (photo based)
Sponsor:Linda-Marie The Sweetheart
Unwritten absence,
Does silence speak?
Does silence fix problems?
A person who wants to conceive a good thought
He " she" can find a quiet place for meditation.
When it comes to ill-treated people ...
speaking out method...helps.
Why am I speaking this?
Why am I speaking that?
Why can I keep silent?
What can be the reason of owning a poetic pen
If I don't share pains of some folks through poetry?
Is there any rule which can condemn a servant God
when he " she" stands to speak for some folks?
Oh! love , loving just
and unjust people
It is happy
so happy to share
this short story
with many folks.
Unwritten absence of love and kindness,
A teen black girl participated at the schools
tournament of Ireland.
Their team reached final,
she was among the best players
who made the team to reach so far.
by surprise, only one black player could not get a medal.
Unwritten absence of happiness as she looked
at the cameraman when he was shooting
her colleagues with medals on their necks
on the podium
in the stadium,
Many people were laughing at her.
Imagine the trauma of this innocent black teenager
who played hard and
ended up being played
due to her skin colour.
Some adults continue to promote racial
discrimination on the face of the World.
Imagine the lesson the tournament organisers taught thousands of white teenagers who were present.
Didn't she have right for medal trophy
as they were winners?
Her parents sued the school for such injustice
The school principal and teachers ended up presenting many excuses.
Unwritten absence of respecting human rights,
as she was not the first black teen to be ill-treated and continue living with trauma. maltreatment always
wreak havoc on the lives of numerous folks.
Lifting tram rails in 1940,
he was aware of the Louvre...
was aware of a cameraman.
Now we see a black and white world,
where leaves on trees have shed their green,
and the sky is a wish-washy grey...
We see the tram rails piled untidily,
and a bicycle boy on right
fearing he'll be late for school.
We see his and rail man's Paris of 1940
with years ahead of war in Europe,
and now bereft of trams.
---------------------------------------------------------------
7/10/2015
Contest - Open Poetry
Sponsor - Charlotte Puddifoot
4th place win
---------------------------------------------------------------
Featured poem for week of Sunday, 14th February, 2016.
All the camera lights on me,it was now or never
The butterflies were swarming in my stomach
And the taste of fear invaded my mouth
Little drops of sweat ran down my neck
Like I was a human slip and slide
As the cameraman counted down
3
The knots in my stomach grow tighter
2
The lump in my throat grow larger
1
My mouth grows dry
0
And just like that I was tapping my first episode
I chose every word meticulously I needed the support of the people
The good words and faith of my family had given me rang in my ears
So with no other choice I just went for it and made them remember me
-Malaki Fleming(2016)
Please Comment!
Doublecheck the invitation
Checkmark for the gift
Checkmark for the card
Dress in our best
Ready for their big day
Tux and gown
Hair up and bejeweled
Pose showing our pearly whites
Sunshine ordered as part of the decor
Cameraman getting all his shots
Bride and groom
Going about their day
Perfect blend of stress and bliss
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2020
Damien Parer was an Australian cameraman
Who went to war with the 2nd AIF in WW2
In the desert sands of Libya at Tobruk
And Greek mountains he filmed the Australians
But his best work was on the Kokoda Trail
Where his “Kokoda Front Line!” won an Academy Award
He went with the American Marines on Peleliu Island
And was shot dead by a Japanese sniper
Australia and the World lost a talented cameraman
But he lives on in his film work forever
Telling the world at a time about this war
When the truth was not being told about these men.
A cheering squad in Utah,
At a high school, did include
A member with Down Syndrome
With a bubbly attitude.
She worked extra hard at practice
And was liked by all who cheered,
But when she received her yearbook,
Her good humor disappeared.
For the cheerleaders were pictured,
Photogenic, they were, too,
Though one member was excluded
And I’ll give you one guess who.
Seems the cameraman requested
Double seatings for the pose -
One with everyone, another…
Well, you know the way it goes.
So the one that made the yearbook
Was the photo incomplete
And it made my blood just boil
To imagine that defeat.
Though apologies were given
And accepted by the teen,
We should all join in to shout
That stunt was M-E-A-N mean!
To the cameraman who through your distant lense
sees one man with another's wife,
and clicks and silently uploads, to expose,
and so to make those lives implode.
Who do you see behind your shuttered home?
With wife away and children gone,
no prying eye save God's alone,
yet, still you pick and throw first stone.
To the journalist, seekings idle chatter
and thinks it does not matter to craft
your print for more damming slant,
that glint of gossip, that careful hint
arising from unguarded natter.
Let’s take a lense and see your life, alone,
and how you sniff that chalky line;
and while you pick and throw that stone,
drink just one more 'fore callng ‘time’.
To the editor who holds their coats,
while dreadful damming work is done,
do tell us how you treat your wife,
and your daughter, and your son?
Show us all, expose your lives.
Before you seek those speckled eyes,
look to the logs that are your own,
before you cast your wounding stone.
My Dad was everything to me...
Musical partner...
Teacher of good music (ie 40's)
Ace pool player, poker player
Beer drinkin' Buddy
World's best Harmonica Player!!
Best friend...
Supporter at all times...
Inspiration for me to cook great meals...
Chef's assistant at Thanksgiving (we always held it - 3 days prep- ridiculous over-
abundance of food, including NY Cheesecake (Out of this world-ask for recipe..)
Dutch apple raisen pecan pie, A table full of appetizers... more...)
Co-conspirator of jokes and skits..
Primary cameraman.
Instiller of the Bell heritage...
From which I became the family historian and producer of 28 hours of video
tapes of every family picture, from 1890, all explained in writting, accompanied by
a memorable soundtrack...distributed throughout family.
Disciplinarian when I was naughty (oh, yeah, I'm a baaaadddd bbooooyyy-Lou
Costello)
He is dead but not gone...not while I'm alive...
The bear tried to explain what he was doing in town
But the officer was scared, so he turned him around
Slapped on the cuffs and told him to get into the backseat.
The bear snapped those cuffs, and ran from the heat.
I watched the whole thing. Filmed it with my I-phone.
Said I cannot wait to upload this when I get home.
The officers are chasing the bear up and down the streets.
I love the fact the bear is wearing football cleats.
He is stomping through gardens and meadows now.
Our one TV cameraman is chasing him. His name is How.
I am laughing my guts out at the chase that I see.
It is so much better than other channels on this stupid TV.
THE CLERGYMAN, CAMERAMAN & CONGREGATION
With booming praise and heavenly devotion,
There stood a powerful pastor, full of divine emotion.
In a realm of faith, where spirits thrive,
The pastor strive to keep bodies & souls alive.4
His words flowed like rivers, reaching every heart,
His sermon sets their doubt & faith apart.
The pastor raised his hands, his voice fright,
A light from nowhere descends & shines bright.8
In anointing's strength and knowledge deep,
The cameraman, the secret, does he keep.
Through sacred halls and sermons grand,
The pastor wields his anointed hand,¹²
A scholar of scriptures, steeped in grace,
But the cameraman holds a different place.
Except the cameraman,the congregation all fell,
Uncontrollably under the anointing like a spell.¹6
The cameraman, with steady eyes & lens in hand,
Captures every move & the pastor's command.
No matter the degree the pastor may possess,
The cameraman's role, the souls to impress.²°
For he captures the essence, the vibrant display,
The show of faith & piety every service day,
Through lens, he tells the stories untold,
Moments of awe, and stories of old.²4
No matter the degree the pastor may claim,
The cameraman's art is never the same,
He sees through angles, and frames the light,
Creating a vision, vivid and so bright.²8
The pastor may heal, with hands anointed,
But the cameraman's touch makes souls enlightened,
For in every shot, a message holds,
A story of faith, that beautifully unfolds.³²
No matter the synagogues strengths glow,
The pastor, cameraman & congregation plays a vital role,
In spreading the message, both near & far,
Captivating our hearts like a guiding star.³6
No matter the degree a pastor has in anointing,
The cameraman never falls for anything.
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
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