Smile for the Camera

Filed Under Poetry | 4 Comments

Here is some more poetry from my third year for your enjoyment.

And people wonder why I don’t like having my picture taken…



Smile for the Camera

click – snap – whir
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
stand aghast at the beautiful vistas,
the inspiring mountains, the sparkling rivers,
so amazing that their jaws drop like hawks,
to take in the borderless skies and
the trees slowly exchanging oxygen

crunch – laugh – shout
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
shade their eyes against the glare and
suddenly four animals appear, hugging
and giggling, smiling beyond the summit,
too close to the cameras, squash ‘em with your
thumb or learn to look past them

Mom – Dad – Mrs. Potter
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
can’t recognize what they can’t see,
take indiscriminate pictures of my family,
his family, our family, their family over there,
but check the memories – behind grand monument,
happy children, stressed mother, arrogant father,
you’ll find me

C’est – ma – vie
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
all feature a young woman in my likeness,
even younger if it’s an old camera,
even older if it’s a new camera phone,
I am in over hundreds of photos around the world,
the nameless extra, a ghost on film

slither – slide – paper
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
piece together their life-long efforts, their
masterpiece of film to pin down the ghost, the girl
whose face is turned every shot despite the angle,
despite the friends she stands almost aloof from,
here’s a leg, an arm, the curve of the face

carving – painting – photo
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
merely the newest way to make a shadow:
once the face is captured, ever all is easy,
take the rest of the body, take the soul,
if the film is destroyed, the soul remains locked
away in cloth binders and old shoeboxes

eyes – soul – month
cameras, camera phones, camcorders -
fake beam at the world, but draw screams from bugs that block the wondrous view – without your
face they can’t control you, but when everyone has
a thousand pictures of you, your soul is divided into
thousands of pieces so small they shine like teeth
so smile

  • Welcome

    new haircut

    Hi, I'm Jenn, new grad student and old YA fantasy writer. I've long dreamed of being a novelist, and I bet you have too. I hope you find my blog helpful, inspiring, and maybe just a little bit fun. (But not too much fun. Writing is serious business, you know.)

    You can follow me on Twitter or Facebook, or email me at:
    jennifer.a.johnson7 at gmail dot com

  • Official Progress


    4/21 segments

    A narrator hijacks a cliche fantasy story, much to the chagrin of its characters.

    Status: Second revision



    1,639/70,000 words
    A young noblewoman with strange powers must choose: her king or her soul.

    Status: First draft



    1,087/70,000 words
    When a girl's heart is stolen, she's plunged into a world of magic and shadows - but can she get her heart back before she loses it completely?

    Status: First draft





  • All writing, unless otherwise specified, is the property of
    Jennifer Johnson © 2010