Cameraman Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

cameraman is late

molecules lower into mist
then smoke and screenshots 
my nicotine grows from roots
onto tongue into thyroid 
deliciously fresh I blow
sprays across crisp lawn 

true blue sky sings its songs
massaging through trendy T-shirt 
day moves harmonic, stylish 
cigar shortens
I’m patient with cameraman 
he is late as usual

our canvas is painted 
with muted colours of farmlands 
organic every morn 
let us go for cappuccinos 
before work starts in ernest 
in coffeeshop we’ll love
                       ourselves  f o r e v e r ~ 

______________________________

BRONZE WINNER POEM
Allpoetry Imagery Contest 
May ‘26

Pressure

Hidden views exist, even for the best cameraman.
When it comes to hard labour, I’m incompetent.
The weight I carry, undermined due to stature.
Inside are struggles you can’t capture.
The day of difference unknown, like that of the rapture.

Have you ever had to breathe greatness for survival,
in environments where suffocation is natural?
When you swear to make it,
true love is kept as collateral.
But I’ve seen a king get poisoned at a festival.

I ponder and ponder.
Once a reject can’t be a failure.
If led astray, I’ll drown the sailor,
put his name on my cloth—
told my tailor.
As a reminder, I’ll do anything
to breathe greatness.

an iceberg and a reporter

an Iceberg and a reporter


Near a village in Alaska, an enormous iceberg drifted filling the bay with fear and wonder
A journalist in the local paper saw something moving on the top of the berg, intrigued he wanted to see what it was he had seen 
A Sunday morning when the people sat in church, he alone, not telling his mum climbed the berg
we saw the photos of him climbing steep walls
of ice, walking on the latter part, and a photo of him looking down at the village
he saw many footprints and concluded that someone lived on the berg, but a storm broke out, he sought shelter in a crack of the ice
we saw the photo of him sleeping in his bag 
and when awake eat a frozen pie
When the storm had abated, he found more footprints, but there are no photos to prove this 
when he came back to the village and published 
an article on his findings 
Until a witty soul asked him if the cameraman was still on the iceberg


Premium Member The Main Attraction

The main attraction 
The hairs on your head standing up
Electricity says, “what’s up?”
Standing in the shadow - a pup

The satisfaction
That one gets when displaying claws
Jumping through hoops, the hees and haws
Delirious from fighting a cause

Roaring reaction
Looking at the cameraman
it’s intense it’s a one night stand
He’s a brave soul - O’Callahan

Without a whip
Without a chair
Without the hype

The mane attraction
The hairs on your head standing up
Electricity says, “what’s up?”
Standing in the shadow - a pup

Roaring reaction
Looking at the cameraman
it’s intense it’s a one night stand
He’s a brave soul - O’Callahan

1/10/2022

Premium Member The Western Wailing Woolysaur

A brand new documentary
A first for archeology
The Western Wailing Woolysaur
He’d never spotted one before 
Neither had he seen one dead
It’s very spikey and it’s red
The spikes it has are everywhere
Some poke through its wooly hair
It’s wailing cries assault the ears
Imagine the primeval fears
Of prey that found this crimson beast
With all its spines, prepared to feast
He found it so he named it thus	
Woolus Attenboroughcus
The cameraman said don’t be dense
That sheep’s caught in a barbed wire fence

Lost Man Part 1

Depths beneath Sapphire blue
Faded Faces, stuck like glue.
Hearts pulling.
Minds pushing.
Referees’ decision.
Under review.

Digital pixels in digital screens
Versing voices that go unseen.
Spectators chanting.
Players snarling.
Chaos looms.
So,  that it seems.

Grandstand.
A Cameraman. Head shakes.
Lost man.
Lost man.

The Garbage can.
Understands. He`s a
Lost man.
Lost man.

Fuelled for what I am.
Distinguished guests scold fevers ham.
Partisans laugh – point! Pots and pans.
Sticks and stones...

And the saviour’s lamb.
His hands nailed  
To protect every man
Women
Child

A grim denial,
Do we deserve it?

If we do not learn from our mistakes.
When the clouds turn black
And the world plumes grey.
And when there are no fish left
In all the lakes.

No one`s going to save us.
No, they won`t 
Not the second time around.


The Cheerleader Photo

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!

Premium Member Get In the Back Seat

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.

Premium Member Cast the First Stone

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.

Castidealia

SHE SPEAKS OF HIM
 LACKING THE DEVOTION
TO STANDOUT 
ABOVE THE CROWD
SHE SAID HIS VOICE
 DIDN'T HAVE TO BE LOUDEST
HE JUST HAD TO BE LOUD
PROUD TO STAND BESIDE
AND EVEN PROUDER TO KNOW
HIS WAYS OF LOVING
SHE WAS PROUD TO SHOW
IF YOU GOTTA DISCUSS IT 
MAYBE SOMETHING AINT RIGHT
AND WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE THAT
 OFTEN THE OTHER TAKES FLIGHT
EXPLAIN AND REEXPLAIN THE 
OTHERS POSITION
THE NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHAT'S
GOING ON
AND WHAT GONNA GO DOWN
THEN MIGHT THESE BE WORDS 
THAT SOME STRANGER
MIGHT SEE TO SPEAK ON
GIVE THEM JAZZY QUOTES" LIKE-
DROP THE ZERO
FOR THE HERO"
OR " GET WITH WHAT HAPPENING MAN,
THINGS AINT LIKE THAT KNOW MORE"
SPEAK SOFTLY AND BE UNHEARD
THAT'S WHEN SOMEONE ELSE CAN
 CHANGE YOUR WORDS

Premium Member On the Guest List

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, Ww2 Cameraman

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.

The Edition

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!

Death, Death and More Death

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

Premium Member Lifting Tram Rails In 1940

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.


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7/10/2015

Contest - Open Poetry

Sponsor - Charlotte Puddifoot

4th place win

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Featured poem for week of Sunday, 14th February, 2016.

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