Long In camera Poems
Long In camera Poems. Below are the most popular long In camera by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In camera poems by poem length and keyword.
Debt,born to the debtor and the creditor,
It's a test of intelligence-
Bridges the banks of income and outgoing,
The debts happen in air,
But the theft in camera,
Disowning the owning happens in air and camera,
Debts,debts and debts! in this planet of chocolates!
To deal in debt,networks work in uniforms,
Theft also a network working in many forms,
The rules governing debts count Seven,
It rules the in-debtor comes number one,
Debt is a net,
All, not know the net not know the way out,
In debt default is an act of violence,
It's not because the letter "B" going silence,
In the books of bad debts,no one is in the good books,
Debts become bad debts because the debt is bad,
Debts create more debts,a study in commerce,
Debts put in more debts is the subject of the universe,
Go rich but debt free!
through the lens darkly piercing the vail starkly
past the thin veneer of the world into the next, past
the bones of this incarnation and gravitations greed
through the lens of the past, reflexing into the future
of a world never known or understood, a thin film on paper
the chemistry of magic steals the essence of life
the taker of souls, the reaper of the unknown
that dwells in this little black box
divided nine by nine inches in wind-carved stone, nails did shone
all distilled to a flat land of infinite horizons in black and white
a realm reflected of our own, a dimension of light and no sound
forever frozen in the images of an imagination transfixed by the wrath
of shadow and the burning divinity of light in camera obscura
the details of god and creation, n legions of neither realms
forever emblazoned upon is an object of de art
packed away in this little black box
A poem is not a logically coherent snapshot of consciousness; rather, poetry testifies to a breach of established logical conventions, offering a new perspective. This perspective reveals certain unspecified meanings that can only emerge through poetry. A poem should not be read as some sort of autobiographical document. On the contrary, an honest poem challenges the notion of documentary accuracy; it is almost always an imprint of complex reflections on memory, an event or events, and the musings of the subconscious—musings that are not obvious to the author—and this entire ensemble of meanings emerges at a specific moment and is never repeated thereafter. Or rather, the moment appears only to never appear again. There are no copies, poetry asserts; we cannot halt a moment in time to calmly reproduce the very same action in the very same state of consciousness. Most likely, the river seen by Heraclitus would have remained the same without poetry. In constant change, there is neither truth nor falsehood – there is simply a given reality as it reveals itself to the poet’s keen attention. After all, one might well fail to notice any changes at all – indeed, it is probably safer to perceive reality in this way. And there is no error on the part of the observer here. There are no rules. The play of time shifts with every moment spent within oneself and in the outside world, but we are under no rule to detect these changes. And what if some people do not change? – then their objects, too, remain unchanged. The parade of eternal entities is always somewhere nearby, sometimes closer than one might wish. But we are under no obligation to take part in this parade. On the other hand, we owe no debt for missed changes; little depends on us, for we cannot delude ourselves into thinking that we are the masters of our own destinies. Noticing what the so-called ‘others’ fail to notice is neither an advantage nor a disadvantage. It is simply a peculiarity of perception that brings comfort to the perceiver. It is rather like zooming in with a built-in camera – would be ridiculous to think that the camera acquires a soul the moment it zooms in on a subject.
CAMERA LAND
We are all celebrities in camera land! In hoods and hard hats, behind the wheel or borrowing “Click”
Beneath the scaffolding. Picking up dog ends in the park, running after midnight in the shadows; “Click”
Creeping in the small hours, pursuing the bus, taxi calling in the black fog - stabbed in the red mist, “Click”
Its 2am I’m digging in the garden, there’s suspicion spilling from a blind window! “Its potatoes”!“Click”
Tilting on the brink, canned in cider or inside her, balanced on a tall pole, or tent pole.. Flashed at 34MPH “Click Flash Click”
Sunday lunch in the well, watched damp gutter, observed from Sardis block “Click”
Mooning the lens, burning the protective glass, pictures of my ****, Should please;“Click”
The smile will be costly, looks like a ghost, on fire in the corner, on top of my lost wife with a knife, “Click”
Dripping in credit land, folding paper planes from county court judgements, “Click”
Linking with a landlord between the empty casks, up the back around the back, no one sees, “Click” What could possibly go wrong if you’re behaving in camera land. Never mind!“Click”
Dogging for the joy of it, click! It’s a big big tit, bending over the fence, joy to the vicar in the bell tower of dreams and dripping in unzipping trousers, “Click”
A man holds his breath on the bonnet on the avenger in green, and sinks to her knees under his knees “Click
Hands are moving quicker that a clock in the last days of the night, yes that’s him looks like a purvey, and bandy three legged “Click”
Holding lighter fuel, and sniffing, tipping it into the wallet the queen is watching, on fire but, always smiles “Click”
Just a little disc blue and with numbers, a beer mat would do in desperate times “Click”Guilty or guilty innocence, it’s priced the same on film, stacking up the odds of being clicked.
The phone app said "unhealthy"
To describe Denali's air.
The sky was gray and smoky
All the hours we were there.
So we were disappointed;
Thought the day would be a bust
'Til somebody hollered "Moose!"
Our brakes kicked up a heap of dust.
A mother moose and baby
Ambled by in camera range.
Then an antlered caribou strolled close -
Our luck began to change.
More caribou were spotted
In the distance, in a herd,
Then a sharp-eyed passenger yelled out
That much-awaited word:
"Bear!" We all looked over
And a grizzly came in view.
He lumbered in the bushes
Seeking berries where they grew.
Our fortune held - the driver spied
A most impressive lynx,
Who crossed the road both back and forth.
(Just showing off, methinks.)
A final sighting- quite a brood
Of willow ptarmigan
(They're the state bird of Alaska)
Got the cameras out again.
We saw no sheep or eagles
And the sky was far from blue.
What a treat, though, watching wildlife!
(And they never even knew...)
Orange and black, nature's warning sign
Muscle and grace intertwine
Prowling predator, jungle king
Silent steps, deadly swing
Eyes of amber, piercing gaze
Stalking through the misty haze
Whiskers twitch, sensing prey
In tall grass, the tigers lay
Roar echoes, primal sound
Shivers run, fear abound
Teeth like daggers, claws like knives
One swipe is all it takes for lives
Bengal, Siberian, and Sumatran too
Malayan, Indochinese – precious few
Species dwindling, habitats shrink
Poachers push them to the brink
Solitary hunter, territorial beast
Man and nature, an eternal feast
Powerful swimmer, climber strong
In folk tales and myths, they belong
Conservation efforts, racing time
To save this beast so sublime
Stripes unique, like fingerprints
In-camera traps, we see their hints
Symbol of strength, courage, and might
Tiger burning bright in the night
Apex predator, ecosystem's link
Without them, balance starts to sink
Majestic creature, fierce yet grand
Victim of greed in many a land
But hope remains if we act fast
To ensure the tiger's reign will last
So let the tiger's spirit ignite
A fire in us to join the fight
To keep them roaming, wild and free
A legacy for all to see
Oil train sits in Lac Megantic
Town folk sleep not so frantic
Patrons socialize while they slept
Unannounced the train it crept
No such thing a train in idle
This one proved homicidal
Train engine fire silent alarm
Town unaware no fear of harm
First responders do arrive
Count all engines numbered five
Connected cars are seventy two
Full of crude what would you do
Disconnect these things on fire
Bigger problem no desire
Cut the risk to light the crude
This decision would be shrewd
Seventy two cars, assumed on brake
Town folk safe that slept on lake
Take in account train on slope
Some brakes off more danger the scope
Idle train crept no more
Picking up speed problem galore
This idle train left to chance
Never checked not even a glance
Explosion awakes town folk in slumber
Instantly town folk less fifty in number
People running saving some lives
Survivors to hear fifty bell chimes
Responsibility left to whom
This decision in the courtroom
On a slope a running car park
Driver responsible ticket don't bark
MMA you will be slandered
Go to hell with your train standard
You brought a man carrying sickle
In Quebec you control your vehicle
If you don't the charge is life
Stand in camera and take it in strife
Angry people you will see
Many more including me.
Left to idle a runaway
Change the law starting today
Always manned train must be
Someone in place we must see
Looking back cutting the cost
Was it worth all lives lost?
One more man not a big chore
Let these trains Idle no more
Eco fuels at home are warmly cherished,
obligation calls and duly heeded,
in the past a smokeless coal,
allied to peat briquette the norm,
a less than ideal medley I’d agree,
I have this last briquette in camera folder,
on the day it was eventually disposed of,
an ahh moment if there ever was one,
Yet I cling to reminiscence round a warm hearth,
with my sister Jay’s wondrous glowing orb,
how she giggled so infectiously at will,
as intense vivid red flames leaped,
deep down inside we knew this couldn’t last,
a rubicon of sorts had now been crossed,
one final soiled clump of history,
that would resonate deep into late life mists,
our family clustered gaping in amazement,
at momentary flight of era toss on film,
an eternally preserved instant fetish,
some poignant flashback a capsule
"Even if it was the farewell, on the last day, everyone was busy giving poses and clicking photos."
Who knows when we will meet again?
Or will never meet in this life again!
If we met, then time would have changed,
Blood same, but person will be changed.
Better to remain far from everyone,
But close enough to archives everyone.
To be remembered we had a great time,
Strange to friends at memorial time.
Now I wake up the same time as for school,
But now I am not a student more of school.
Meeting new fresh ones is the rule of days,
But I am stuck in back old school days.
No one would have remembered!
When was the last P.T. period!
Might be more likely to be remembered,
When was the physics period.
Freedom was all we were asking for,
Realised for whom we were asking for!
If it was meant to be over in a day,
Then why we remember moments in a day.
A day of reunion is not enough as twelve years,
But if we met will discuss the same years.
At the end will pose seeing the camera,
And the photo will forever remain in camera.