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Saturday, February 16, 2013

The Camera

I wrote this poem the other day and shared it with poetry professor and she's unsure about rhyme (she hates rhyme). I'm going to post it here to see what people think. Oh, I also edited Mr. Army Man to be shorter (with the help of my professor) and changed the title since "Mister" gives off the married connotation.

The Camera

My dad's prized possession,
the label dated from 1979.
The body, silver and black,
a shiny gloss sure looks fine.

It zooms for 10 miles,
and can print 8x10s.
It loads film pretty fast,
but breaks it when
I wind it the wrong way.

When I wind and wind
and the pressure's tight,
sometimes I think with
a passion of fright and flight,
but the feeling is fleeting.

With my dad's prized possession,
I take photos with Mr. Army man;
I'm surprised he lets me,
as he dresses in uniforms so tan.

With my dad's prized possession,
I like the time spent with him--
laughing, finding the right spot;
on field, on grass, in the gym.

With my dad's prized possession,
I also take photos with friends,
with goofy smiles and funny poses,
we take and take until the roll ends.

Now becoming my prized possession,
memories are made,
I feel the bond grow between us;
with Mr. Army man, the feelings wade.

My prized possession
takes pictures so shiny,
a lovely hue or black/white,
the negatives are so tiny.

With my prized possession,
the memories are shared
with cards or scrapbooks
made with love and care.


  1. I like the way the camera becomes "your" prized possession. :)

    What's the reason your poetry professor doesn't like rhyme? I always thought that was a central part of poetry, although I admit reading your blog has educated me that not all poems have to rhyme.

    1. She just thinks rhyming is so 17th century and not all modern poems rhyme. I can see depending on the subject.

      Just got back from my night out with Patrick.

  2. Your professor's aversion to rhyme is extremely bizarre.
    This poem doesn't rhyme line for line, bar for bar!

    I've been told if you don't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all.
    Apologies for letting this sit for so long! I finally do have something useful to share, be it small.