"newscast" poems
How to fit it?
Be fake.
Put on a pretense.
Like those anchor peoples on the newscast.
Hold your opinions.
They don't like opinionated folks.
And if they are they called personal commentaries.
How to fit in?
Put on that smile.
In life we all are actors.
It's a trait of our character.
Unless we get selected to heaven.
Then that's another matter.
We required to be real because the love of God is there.
How to fit in?
Embrace the concept of your surroundings.
Just sit back and take it all in.
Like a shy person you'll be able to describe everything.
From those that fake to the backstabbers.
Now, you can be a rogue.
Just realize renegades doesn't last in the fakeness for long.
But that's how you fit in?
You just need to ask yourself?
Is this your quest?
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
Children of Louisiana,
Swept away and drowned,
In the river’s flood
And the ocean surge.
Never have recovered
Fully from the rain falling down,
And of a city that was purged.
Ignored by the government
And its fellow man,
Follow in a long line of sufferers
Since the melting, ice age glaciers
And even a tsunami in the North Sea
That wiped out Doggerland.
Dark Ages got darker as people ran
And Britain’s white cliffs were sheared.
Times got better and then got worse,
But the people carried on.
Now, the floods are a weekly thing,
A blip on a newscast,
As lost as the victims in a mess
Of other disasters,
Of wildfires, droughts and don’t
Even mention the quaking earth
Or volcanoes! We can’t take credit
For causing those!
Rich men in their castles,
Feasting and clapping each other
On their fatty backs,
Rolling in the spoils and spills
Of oil, on the flaming water of
The American plains.
Sheikhs in old Mesopotamia
Whine about oil pipelines,
Promised to them by President Cheney,
While the people starve.
Bloated oligarchs spread destruction
All over the world, from
The Congo to Chernobyl,
Melting icecaps and raising the sea,
Sinking islands where they don’t live,
Vacationing in the Maldives,
On special rates before those go under.
They won’t fix Miami, but let it sink,
But not before they plunder
The empty towers built on foolish dreams.
Of course, they’ll be the last to go,
Crammed into mansions up in the Alps,
Fighting with the European nobles
Over who gets a crumbling palace
Now sitting on the last ice floe.
A few American cousins round each other up
To catch the Dixie Flyer down to New Orleans,
Trying to hide from the polar vortex,
A dazzling case of ignorance and greed,
Only to find the tracks buried in the sea…
Down in the mud of the deep, brown sea.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 4:26 PM UTC
Travel he must
And travel he will
But never without the public expectation
That he was there to ****
He took to the sky
With his dulled chocolate skin
Ah, the perfect scapegoat
The man in the turban
Typical and expected,
There is a bomb on this flight.
But not so expected, yet so typical,
The man who placed it here is white
With guilt and regret,
He watches the passengers go up in flames
Though he is glad that his country
will be given a different person to blame
*A terrorist
When will they leave us alone?*
I'm just curious
Does anyone even remember what country we've been told they're from?
That brown man did not bomb that plane
He did not come here with intentions to destroy
He is not the monster you are, and on this man your corruption is displayed.
Age twenty, to be exact. He was only just a ******* boy.
And you killed him, along with 149 others.
You then proceeded to tell more than 315 million people that it was a suicide bomb, a terrorist attack, all credits given to the Israeli.
Ha.
If you wanted to talk about a terrorist, you should've written an autobiography.
Nationalism
Nationalism
Nationalism
It is a nail that has been so drilled into your very being, it has ripped through the other side.
You are a robot, a political Frankenstein. None of these parts are yours, each brain cell has been donated by a false newscast or presidential speech.
"A foreign terrorist" - wait.
Perhaps the "foreign" isn't needed. Every mere speck of dust from the Eastern part of the world is considered a terrorist.
In fact, is anywhere even really part of the world if it is not in America?
Anyway,
"A terrorist has bombed our plane,"
they tell you.
Racial slurs are heard in every living room, coffee shop, and office.
Thank you for giving us another reason to hate any country besides our own.
Thank you for killing their families, and letting his family grieve not only for his death but also for the fact that the world hates the man he was not, for a lifestyle he did not live.
Do you love our country now?
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
For viewers,
I’m adjusting
my face
and while
foraging though
the trunk
full of masks
and manufactured
convictions,
a sack of
amusing diversions
spills into view,
all of it lacking
convincing connection
or anchor…
I’m the
Houdini
of human communion
vanished again
into smoke,
a phantom floating
in air
left behind
for your
entertainment.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
TV iconoqueens,
late night show,
and mystery.
Newscast shpeel of oh rockafeel,
Where’s yo money now?
Wrapped up in a blinded bull,
grazing Wall Street pastures,
Black Sunday visits again,
in lack of green backs and jobs.
And the people, the mobs,
line up in 21st century bread lines
Only wanting to live,
And be free again,
From mortgage voodoos
and the Repo man's song...
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 4:41 PM UTC
The Nickel
There was a small child he found 2 coins while playing outside one day. He excitedly came home to show his mother. He said Mommy! Mommy look I found 2 sliver coins!
The mother replied awesome come here and let me see what you have found! The son placed the nickel and the quarter in his mothers hand!
She said Oh very nice which one do you think is worth more?
The little boy thinks for a second and says the nickel.
The mother says.....aww hunny that is cute but you have to learn about money! It's too small and not worth as much for its only 5 cents and this big one is 25 cents.
She said she was proud of him for asking.... sent him on the way with his finding and told him to place them in his piggy bank.....So he did still the nickel being his favorite!
Several months later..........there was a newscast and a desperate plea from a desperate numismatics (coin collector)
stating he had lost a very rare nickel between and made mention of the woman and sons home address where her little boy had just found the nickel and the quarter.......He left detail and reward of 25000 to where he can be reached
Excitedly the mother ran into the little boys room and asked him if he still had the quarter and nickel she told him to put in his piggy bank...... He told her he had only 1 of the 2 left! He needed a few pieces of candy from the penny candy store so he used one.....Angerly the mother scoffed....Omg i told you to put that nickel in the piggy bank.
Confused the boy looked at his mother walked over to his piggy bank and said yes.....Mommy of course I did here it is........
She was very confused and her frown now in quite joy at her sons young mistake.....
She said thank God my son you know nothing about money.....what made you use the bigger coin when you only bought 5 pieces of candy.....The youngster said well Mommy a couple of reasons the nickel was still my favorite even though it was worth less 2nd I knew if i bought 5 pieces of penny candy with a quarter they would give me back 4 nickles if i asked sooooo... why mommy what's wrong??????
Hey************* guys good morning!!! Its me Michelle if you made it this far into the story thank you .....for reading i wrote this myself.....:)
Many morals can be taken away from this my favorite and of course you can conclude anything in positivity you wish......is this
Sometimes the eyes of the innocent,👑 uneducated reap the greatest of lesson and reward!
Have a Blessed Day
Sep 21, 2020
Sep 21, 2020 at 6:46 AM UTC
May 13, 2016
1:00 a.m.
"Grasping for straws, again!" It's amazing to me, that when we start aproaching my age, how we start reflecting on events that, at the time of their occurence, were not important. Case in point:
Lubbock, Texas, September, 1953, if memory serves. During that time local television stations, at noon, always had a 15 minute newscast, followed by another 15 minutes of "public service programing, featuring upcoming events in the surrounding communities. This time of year, it was always the "South Plains Fair."
My brother, Bill, and I belonged to a volunteer service group that was scheduled to appear on such a program aptly titled "Hospitality Time." Also scheduled was a country western band that was to perform at the fair. I can't recall the name other than they were associated with a circuit called "The Louisiana Hayride", similar to the "Grand 'ol Opry", both very popular on the radio, you do remember 'radio', don't you?"
Prior to the telecast, we got into a conversation with one of the musicians, who 'plunked' on his guitar while waiting for their call.He turned out to be the lead singer. Not being a country music fan, I didn't pay much attention to them, after all, it was "just for the Fair." After they finished and were leaving, he turned to my brother and me, and said, "nice to meet you." It wasn't until a couple of years later, when I realized that we had met, and talked with, Elvis Presley.
copyright: richard riddle: 05-13-2016
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 2:48 AM UTC
She had a beauty that boomed like thunder,
distant on the newscast- while some family
stood by the wreckage of their lives after
the storm (somewhere in Oklahoma) and,
it made you want to cry, like a newly made
widow, who’s story would follow at the top
of the hour: people described her with -
vibes a lot, but nothing vibrated, it was more
like an explosion, but not like a backpack in
Gaza, more like the Fourth of July, in Ohio.
It was hard to see her by looking directly:
you had to find her in angles and moonlight,
and even then you weren’t sure in the same
way that sometimes you can’t see the stars
because the constellations get in the way.
She made me think of Miami, but I couldn’t
say if it was more Miami than Miami, or just
what was left …
…of imperfect pictures painted by a sculptor
that wasn’t always paying attention at the
right time.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
*Sitting silently in my chair
watching you intently.
quietly so that you do not
notice my observing.
The years have run by like a deer
No matter what issue
we face you stay calm.
Deal with it and let it pass.
I see you as the glue
that holds this place together.
I do not remember the last time
I had to worry about the children..
The newscast shows carnage and death.
It flickers across your face unnoticed.
Wearing your silence
like a comfortable Sunday sweater.
I wonder sometimes
just what you are thinking about.
All I know is the fact
you are the island I need.
Peaceful and solid, the anchor
that holds me safe in this harbor.
You have the strength
I borrow to face adversity.
You are the sun at the center
of my small universe.
It’s no wonder I love you.*
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
I watched the morning newscast
and found my mind straining to
get out.
Out into a widening desert,
sky open and black above save for
the piercing light of billions of stars
like holes in a living room curtain.
You can call me crazy for it,
but I thought I saw Ginsberg
looking at me through the window
with a sunflower behind his ear.
In fact, I'm almost certain this was anything but an hallucination as my cat pounced at the window
(she never liked my poems either, Allen)
and startled me back into reality.
The television, right, the newscast.
Nuclear bombs and
tariffs on Mexican goods and
oh look, the president is playing golf with the Queen.
I turned it off when I saw he hit a bogey,
parted the curtains, and thought, "That's it, I'm pleading insanity. See you in Bellevue, Allen."
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC
They asked if I wanted to go North,
I asked if there was any place further
South,
They shook their heads side to side,
I said I needed time, was there absolutely
any place else,
They shook their heads side to side,
I asked if there was still room for me here
with my wife and children so near,
They shook their heads side to side,
"besides" said one, "they are not going
anywhere that you cannot come back,
to the gravesides"
I looked them in the eye
They shook their heads side to side
I went for a break found myself in front
of a newscast, somewhere in the world
there was one two three terrible clashes,
somewhere on the west coast of some
distant promised landing, a bottling giant was
guzzling profits while emptying Mother
Earth, her name is Aquafir,
if that was not enough some part of the
under under cover part of a government
arm admitted that Area 51 exists but it
is more like a farm, something stinks and
there is allot of ********
I went back and looked them in the eye
and asked how long I'd be away and they
said, "until you die"
I can come back to visit.
They nodded up and down
"once a year" they said and each one had
a frown.
I changed my heart to get away from this
insane place we know, has become, I will find my
peace far from this madding crowd,
as long as they don't find me if they come
looking from, the top of the world, down.
If they do
I will shake my head
side to side, instead
of choosing who is right,
so leave me to find my peace
my mind, until I see my loves
once more.
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC
*Ordered for us
their portrayal of
selected happenings..
the Real news
on horizon becoming
are silent discoveries
hidden from view
by a few reporters
looking out there
but inward at
the same Time..
their startling
bits of news
waking result of
polarities at play..
Newscasts with
only outward attention
may someday find
viewers retreating..
half truths
hardly digestible...*
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 4:06 PM UTC
I can't remember
a night when I wasn't lulled to sleep
by the comforting sound of gunshots
I try
every night
I dig a little deeper
a little further back
nothing yet
Instead I remember
the night my father
carrying the triggerman's burden
turned the barrel on himself
I dig back further
to Mom's face
her soulless eyes
and the impatient hunger of an
starving child
The first time I watched a man die
it wasn't a man anymore
they told me
just like my mother wasn't
my mother anymore
Further still
to the newscast
warning everyone to stay
inside their homes
glass shattering
my father's shotgun
pulled from retirement
I dig deeper
a faint and fuzzy
barely breathing memory
Dad smiling
the plop of a lure in the water
a tug on the line
excitement
laughter
more tugging and
BANG
****
I lost it
Aug 2, 2010
Aug 2, 2010 at 3:30 PM UTC
While looking at the television newscast.
You realize you're watching the news robots.
Simply because they have no freedom to be free.
They work required restrictions.
They told the way to dress.
The way to act.
And the news they can report under guidelines.
The teleprompters are their best friends.
Especially for those without glasses.
But prefer the contact lens.
Jerry Springer once stated.
The news is about pretty people reporting.
And if you notice his words are true.
If the news robots deny it.
They trying to pull the wool over you.
Ask yourself?
How many ugly folks reports the news.
Many news systems works underhanded.
That's why many has been branded.
Things won't change anytime soon.
But notice the National Enquire's delivering truth too.
But then I could have been talking about the news too.
When it comes to them hardly any.
But with pretty folks -there are plenty.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
I put on my boxers
which is as near to fighting
as I'll get today,
made my morning repast
listened to the newscast
and
watched the sun as it rose,
(which is a rose,
by any other name)
Sunday aha
it gets better
Summer
and it gets hotter
I might not even bother
to do anything today but pray
nah
too many are doing that and I don't
want to overload the system.
May 21, 2023
May 21, 2023 at 1:05 AM UTC
Tonight
When I entered my apartment
The stairs were lying like tired men after a hard day's work
The door a yawning mouth
My TV was listening intently to the sports newscast
And
Like a huge fat woman, the couch was sitting on the floor
Hardly breathing the used air
The curtain tickled the cheek of the window……
Swaying gracefully above
My books slept like babies on the hands of the bookshelves
The dining table was listening to the whispers of her chairs
The lamps were winking at to each other
The fan was busy flailing her arms indifferent
In my apartment
The life looks the same as I left it
Everything is normal
No,
It is more than normal
Strange…….
No one missed me?
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 12:52 PM UTC
A hound bus in the maintenance garage
But it was the thief thinking in his own barrage
When the workers weren’t around
The Thief stole the bus without making any sound
The Hound’s slogan, “Leave the Driving to us”
The Thief’s slogan, “Steal the Hound Bus being a must”
That is just what happened
Hound bus 7888 was driven from the yard onto New Jersey Turnpike
I-95 bound for anywhere
The Thief’s thought, I-95 was my escape route with no jive
Yet Helicopter Newscast were reporting high above I-95
The Hound bus was chased entire length of the turnpike
But if the NJ Turnpike Police don’t act quick, the Hound Bus could cross the Pennsylvania state line
The Thief knew how to drive that Hound bus, I guess in his prior life, the Thief was part of the company’s us
Yet the chase continued to go on, but not until the Hound bus ran out of gas
The Thief’s driving fast that didn’t last
Well the Thief forgot the gas tank up
The Thief became his own Maxwell house to a finished cup
A Hound bus having its own bite in crime
But justice was served with the Thief doing time.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
Emperor of a frozen domain
*The newspaper headlines
and the TV newscast
pour blood onto my kitchen table.
It’s unmistakable odor
Mixing with coffee and toast.
Has it always been like this?
A world of dark shadows
with ****** and hatred
hiding in every dark alley.
Take me back to innocence
Where childish pastimes
took me through simpler shadows.
Where damage was recoverable.
Born of lost loves and things
I left undone.
And even shadows
grew paler over time.
I now sit among coffee
and armchairs.
Enthroned over a frozen land.
Old and frail.
The emperor of a frozen domain.*
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
While looking at the television newscast.
You realize you're watching the news robots.
Simply because they have no freedom to be free.
They work required restrictions.
They told the way to dress.
The way to act.
And the news they can report under guidelines.
The teleprompters are their best friends.
Especially for those without glasses.
But prefer the contact lens.
Jerry Springer once stated.
The news is about pretty people reporting.
And if you notice his words are true.
If the news robots deny it.
They trying to pull the wool over you.
Ask yourself?
How many ugly folks reports the news.
Many news systems works underhanded.
That's why many has been branded.
Things won't change anytime soon.
But notice the National Enquire's delivering truth too.
But then I could have been talking about the news too.
When it comes to them hardly any.
But with pretty folks -there are plenty.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 9:45 AM UTC
Why are there pretty people upon the newscast?
The ones that seem like a magazine model.
Saying things according to script.
Who has signed contracts to not give their own opinions?
In my personal view and opinions.
Let me be surrounded by the simple folks.
Those that keeps it real even if it's a joke.
Who isn't into trying to keep up an image.
Even address issues within their marriage.
Or any relationship.
Yes, the simple folks.
Who would fit in anywhere they went?
Yes, the simple folks.
They accepts you as you are.
Live accordingly to how they feel.
Don't hate upon others because of a few.
More likely to defend them, if they not bothering you.
Yes, the simple folks.
The ones that brings common sense to the world.
Who truly believes in God's word
But doesn't debate it, if you chose not too.
First to say to each their own.
First to welcome any neighbor into their home.
That's the simple folks.
Entertainers moves according to the popular movement.
Simple folks moves according to the people movement.
Be yourself.
Don't be determine by anyone else.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 9:19 AM UTC
Back from Iraq 4/04
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
no ticker-tape parade
no welcome home celebration
no media coverage
“Good Morning, America” doesn’t spoil breakfast
with the newscast
no one should see the caskets
being unloaded from the plane
the 23 flag draped caskets
they do show pictures of prisoner abuse this day
as yesterday
and the day before
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
the first time my son came home was with fanfare
every television channel
“Mission Accomplished,” resounded the banner
behind our president
on the aircraft carrier
thumbs up
dressed as a genuine military man
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
the stock market reports
an upward surge in Halliburton this day
the television airs a commercial
approved by John Kerry
condemning jobs sent to other nations
not mentioning Mexico
nor his wife of Heinz fame
or the 23 flag draped coffins
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
my son is in the plane
the plane with the 23 flag draped caskets
he serves on the flight crew
my son just got back from his second tour in Iraq
23 other sons just got back
from their tours in Iraq
they won’t have to return
but my son most certainly will
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Dancing with snowflakes
Dancing Feet with the rhythmic winds...
Holiday Seasons...
Sweet love and sugar cookies and cakes.
Memories of a childhood of such moments
caught in my mind's eye like a live newscast
Brings forth future chuckles
as future broadcasts span across the globe
Like a fine wine..
Such gets sweeter when age adds to the formats
to elder's ages
growing in strength and numbers
Here we go...toasts to the cheers
of these sovereign time placemats.
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 10:17 AM UTC
News, runs with the report.
Blaming the newspaper which blames the newscast.
With acts innocent about their reported story.
Funny, how you can wash your hands of being responsible?
News at 5 change by news at 6 and more facts proven by 10 or 11.
And if you're a dial switcher you will find one with more truth to its report in details.
Similar to checking out the Gospels in scriptures.
Like gun owners that hides behind the 2nd amendment.
We see th news hides behind the first.
Funny, how you wash your hands of being responsible?
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC