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Shiv Pratap Pal Nov 2019
Camera please
Bring your camera please

O' my media, O' my Press
Bring your camera please

Come and praise me
Praise my looks

Praise my dress
Praise my deeds

Praise my voice
Praise my style

Praise my mind
Praise my actions

Never bother for money
You are my media

Just praise me, Jump
Sing and dance for me

Play to my tune
Just play it repeatedly

I will pay you enough
Much more than you think

I never use to pay a dime
From the pockets of mine

I often pay from others pocket
I feel I have the right to do so

I never pay to my wife
I never pay to my children

I never pay to my family
I never pay to my friends

I earn and earn and earn
I spend, spend and spend

But not on anyone else
I spend only for myself

Though I often take selfies
But please don’t call me selfish

My heart truly beat for others
My nose truly breathes for other

My kidney purifies for others
My liver work for others

My eyes see for others
My ears hear for others

My leg walk for others
My mind think for others

I am the divine soul
Only I am the divine soul

If you fail to praise me
If you dare to criticize me

Then you are not a press
You are not a media

Then what you are?
You are fake news
Your Camera is for me. Note it. Its not a joke. I am serious. Not dead serious. I live serious. That's all. Simple.
He chokes
paper and
inhibits law  
there in
habitual way
as he
lumped this
load on
my community
with popular
dogma still
ministry of
the house
though the
township nigh
but a
hospital standard
A word on healthcare
Dream Fisher Jul 2019
Start existing outside of yourself,
Take a breath until the stress melts
You can't change the world in a single rotation
But you can change someone's life today,
I get a lot of nodding in affirmation
But when the train comes, they still sit at the station.
I understand the comfort zone, the bubble,
The look the other way from trouble
Billions of super hero fans standing,
I'm writing in hopes of a vigilante.

Start loving the person you are,
Forget the money, the job, the constant distraction.
Remember the kid you were, in a blur,
Now an adult being, trapped with morals
A fraction of the child you think back on.
You're never too far gone to retrace steps
All the amazing things you once thought,
They never disappeared, you just left,
Wondering if you've come back yet.

Start being.
Whatever you are or aren't
Aspire for greatness in whatever,
Even if that greatness is smiling for a minute,
Be in that minute and make it real,
Live to feel happiness and sorrow
And continue that existence into tomorrow.
I'm not looking to preach or teach
I just miss seeing emotion as I walk down the street
With a face in a phone and text in a speech.
a mossy
lives in
shoe where
a theater
turncoat ultra
bleeds as
Putin a
cowbell if
fingers won
Equinox and
the squatly
kneel but
this share
of their
misnomer is
Baltic leader
nigh again
A note on journalism
electrocution marks
the hall
with flatulence
that table
jars a
rebuttal from
his umbrage
their rounds
o explosives
polarized steps
in building
avenue to
the union
with twist
whether turbulent
lifestyle now
this millennium
Marlboro Country
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
I raise the bone up to my two juicy lips
and I purse.
Here comes the carcinogen, the miasmic smoke,
the old ghost.

But, my
love,
it's not like it
was.

My love,
it's
not like it was.

I pick into the basalt black, like a boss.
I exhale,
mining verses from my vernacular
like
poisonous
metal.

But, my
love,
it's not like it
was.

It's nothing like it was,
and I'm perfectly fine.



In a manner of speaking.
an orient
of tabulation
well ornament
was polar
as confabulation
sought variation
that once
made neighbors'
diversification and
now their
state proxy
of community
found in
direness and
guarded their
intoxicated draft  
in myalgia
communities in peril
Nick Strong Oct 2018
One by one,
We trudge
In the opposite direction
To the place we want to go
Work, Work, Work,
Press the button,
Again, Again, Again
Spaced intervals
Nine minutes
Fifty nine seconds
Not a nano less,
Not a second more

Big Red button
Press, Press, Press
Until the End
Daylight dies
One by One
We trudge
Back the Path we came
another sunset
Precedes another dawn

One by One
We trudge again
treadmill of drudgery
Work, Work, Work
Nine fifty seven
Nine fifty eight
Press
Press the Big red button
At the Stress Mine

One by one
Trudging onwards
Souless, goaless
Encased in vulcanised rubber
Protected against
radioactive
melt down
Chemical disintegration
Sneezes on this hive of workers
Press, Press Press
The button

Two by Two
Thoughts flow
Under the dim wattage
State controlled home lighting
Press, Press Stop
Don’t press the button
Would it make any difference to the
One by one daily trudge

Three by Three
The terror rises
Stop Pressing
The spinning top world
Would stop.
who do we believe
when it comes to news delivery
are any of the reports
credible in their livery

a fake story can
promulgate far and wide
there's a question mark
along for the ride

reading between the lines
is a definite must
that's where we'll find
something to trust

media organizations
peddle much disinformation
which invariably requires
an expert's confirmation

false copy in the daily
cycle of press release
these misleading volumes
never seem to cease

inaccurate news is blurring
the picture we see
by not displaying an authentic
perspective's tee
as she's
been ****
yet shy
still desirous
in love
with a
ring round
her heart
she made
cute to
grip her
fudge a
darling guy
she'd met
the wonk
of matters
Nellie Bly
Nellie Bly a journalist died in 1922
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