Best Diorama Poems

I awake with the question "Am I like my predecessor?"
Automated and fabricated to slave for the oppressor
I join the procession yet I am an orbate...

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Even the ghosts have faded now,
splashes of gray like shadows
in a child's diorama.
They slip in and out of mortared cracks 
in my mind,
seeking a validation
I...

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I 
saw 
them,a 
pair 
of 
furious 
hen;hauling 
stones 
and 
throwing 
firebrands 
and 
I 
winked 
at 
the 
ominious 
exchange 
for 
it 
was 
in 
the 
dry 
season....

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One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story
Sheets that used to be occupied
She walked back and stopped at a chapter which...

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Screen of Awareness

Look up!
 From tedium uncertainty - 
  Focus on an impartial pure lens -
Blank screen of nothing shows pulses of the soul,-
Flashing...

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The dead still walk
within our memories,
and breathe 
and smile 
and talk
inside that strange preserve we keep,
a room still redolent with life
above the boxes where they...

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In a shadow box, by the bed
another diorama took shape,
form, function
while she slept.
The whole house quiet with the ever tick tock.
Paper snow flakes in the...

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Mask of different kinds, textures and appearances
Some may be scary, some making an impression
As we are wearing each of them in instances
While facing people on...

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“Broken Brights Lit the Light” 

Broken brights 
lit the light 
watches

through 
the eyes

observing 
pain waiting for 
future to arrive

trapped 
between the cracks
somewhere 

on the outside

(LadyLabyrinth...

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His School Project Is Due Tomorrow

By Elton Camp

At two-thirty, Agnes was sound asleep
Into her bedroom her son did creep

He gave her shoulder a firm shake
“Mom,...

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My mind is like a haunted house,
and you are the restless spirit;
the poltergeist inside of it.
But in fact, it’s not really you:
it's just the remain...

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I was on a bus for hours once
So I celebrated the dawning of our friendship
By texting you nicknames for yourself
To give us a shared something...

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How finely tuned this world the great machine
Precise: its programme code, and never changing
Immutable equations writ Boolean
Determine every nuance of arranging

The scene before my eye...

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His obituary was in the newspaper today.  I had not thought of him in ages, yet he was always in a nest in my...

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The hypnotic sleep-walk will diagnose this flaccid imp in me
All the recantations will die there where selfishness butchers the prophetic shields
As If I were to...

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