Long Cameraman Poems
Long Cameraman Poems. Below are the most popular long Cameraman by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cameraman poems by poem length and keyword.
************************Kelp Seaworthy***************,,,,
An interveiw with wrestling legend Brunei "Giant" Kwaku
Kelp.....)what's your issue with the Cedis Brothers? You
three were friends you use to travel up and down and all across the world with these guys, what's happened to that relationship?
Kwaku....) They are joker's man, my beef started with them one night in New York, we drove 12 hours to get their in a rental van, Ashoka and Yongle, my wife and me.We had reservations for two rooms, three beds at the Dangle Bed and Breakfast, well on our way to the lodge Yongle gets a call, this new guy where mentoring, Obateru Hammerstone, they told me he need a place to sleep, and they asked me if we could watch over him while they swapped the van for a conversation van, they said the guy was a big bumbling fat so
Who was in trouble with his wife, they said he'd be good company for them while they were at the restaurant. I said how will I identify the guy, they told me he was a fat runt with blond hair and he'd be wearing a gold leather jacket. I was
King of Hardcore champion at the time. I didn't want
So fan seeing me and my wife waiting for some guy I had never seen before, so I asked the manager to tell me if a guy in a gold jacket comes in looking for me, I took a set and didn't think twice, and all of a sudden I see this cameraman and I move my wife out of harm's way and this Tall big guy starts hitting me, I fell and next thing I know they are raising his hand as champion, I wanted that belt because it was rumored it was the belt they were uniting with the Nation eat Championship, and recognizing that guy as World's Champion, this ($@$+$) comes in and days later he was named the champ at my expence, I voweled to get these guys caused they made my life miserable. That's why I am here! Anybody that doesn't like them is my Freind and anybody who wants to make a name for themself is my Freind, that's what I'm doing here! That's what this is about!
Next day no water supply
Child looks up to me with searchin eyes
"Daddy I'm thirsty" in a weak voice
To a papa I don't have no choice
The Good Ol Boy can't hear her voice
And now I'm Looting
I survived the tragedy
Now I got to do right by my family
How exactly grateful do you want me to be?
Life's force caused my destiny
And I'm gonna do right by baby
And now I'm fightin
Child lost mama, her strength and her home
Plans out there made but we're all alone
Mama’s not here no more in the Dome
This shelter is her resting stone
Babies Blanket is her resting stone
Baby stoking the resting stone
And now we're prayin
September 2005
We're doin our best just to survive
Please cry baby so I know you’re alive
This is changing me deep down inside
We're all changing way deep down inside
And now I'm angry
Takin babies and wives from the man
Never thought this could happen in Our Free Land
Can't get my head around it to understand
Chaos everywhere here for the man
Just gotta do the best that I can
They say I'm looting
Cameraman and the new on TV
Filming me taking supplies for baby
How exactly grateful do you want me to be?
While your watchin me on your TV
They call me looter and Refugee
Darlin, looter and a Refugee
But I'm still prayin
Wasted water surrounds little ones
I know New Orleans has mightier sons
We're takin water, food and some meds
Surviving in this homestead
My shoulder now is babies’ bed
Strong shoulders now for babies bed.
And I'm still hopeful
Go ahead and call me Refugee
A looter, a black man that you see on TV
But I'm no Good Ole Boy Judging from a safe place
I'm a papa lookin in babies face
A widowed papa lookin in babies face.
And now I'm prayin
Form:
Next day no water supply
Child looks up to me with searchin eyes
"Daddy I'm thirsty" in a weak voice
To a papa I don't have no choice
The Good Ol Boy can't hear her voice
And now I'm Looting
I survived the tragedy
Now I got to do right by my family
How exactly grateful do you want me to be?
Life's force caused my destiny
And I'm gonna do right by baby
And now I'm fightin
Child lost mama, her strength and her home
Plans out there made but we're all alone
Mama’s not here no more in the Dome
This shelter is her resting stone
Babies Blanket is her resting stone
Baby stoking the resting stone
And now we're prayin
September 2005
We're doin our best just to survive
Please cry baby so I know you’re alive
This is changing me deep down inside
We're all changing way deep down inside
And now I'm angry
Takin babies and wives from the man
Never thought this could happen in Our Free Land
Can't get my head around it to understand
Chaos everywhere here for the man
Just gotta do the best that I can
They say I'm looting
Cameraman and the new on TV
Filming me taking supplies for baby
How exactly grateful do you want me to be?
While your watchin me on your TV
They call me looter and Refugee
Darlin, looter and a Refugee
But I'm still prayin
Wasted water surrounds little ones
I know New Orleans has mightier sons
We're takin water, food and some meds
Surviving in this homestead
My shoulder now is babies’ bed
Strong shoulders now for babies bed.
And I'm still hopeful
Go ahead and call me Refugee
A looter, a black man that you see on TV
But I'm no Good Ole Boy Judging from a safe place
I'm a papa lookin in babies face
A widowed papa lookin in babies face.
And now I'm prayin
Form:
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
Copyright ©December 2023.
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.
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.
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
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...