Short Cinematography Poems

Oblivious to arcane mishaps
That molest the bones established by society
The echo of her tattoo sings of a great depression
Each time the memory surfaces,
A twisted grin is born
Perhaps this could be the preluding window to existential purgatory...

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Callous sentences saunter into the quaintest of landmarks
Capturing the cinematography that is the mockery of felicity
At times I ponder on whether its veins quake with fear
In lieu of the eyes marring her with bullet holes
Whilst humming commemorative memories
That now lie lifeless just as the wealth of their youth...

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Come to green mother

Naked, willed and wild

Visit the bed of death

Where circles hide

 

Submerse senses in the newborn

Aroma and cinematography

Tease the skin with warm wind

That tumbles and tingles dry

 

Cradle the baby’s breath slowly

As it toddles and cries into a bouquet

Beneath a marbleized sun

On the beauty of a bashful April day...

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How too choose, how to select
A film to fill that two hour slot
The bumph will big it up 
Over egg the pudding like as not
So I look for key word like
“Thought provoking” or “moody”
“Poignant, “Critically acclaimed”
Or “Stunning cinematography”
And when I’ve identified them
I know they are the ones to miss 
And I get the one with the cover picture
Of a girl in a state of undress...

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