"publicity" poems
You've brought us closer,
Then made us more distant.
Made us more aware,
Then made us doubtful of ourselves.
Introduce us to more friends,
Then invited more enemies.
Given us more publicity,
Then exploited us.
Save us more time,
Now it's spent to be more busy.
Simplify our tasks just to make life more difficult.
You're an entrapping blessing in disguise.
Made us feel more secure,
Yet gave us more tools to break in.
You've become our new addiction,
Just a second without you,
Got us in technology withdraw.
You're a complication in simplicity.
There's so much to love you but also so much to hate.
Can't live with you or without you...
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:17 AM UTC
All armies are the same
Publicity is fame
Artillery makes the same old noise
Valor is an attribute of boys
Old soldiers all have tired eyes
All soldiers hear the same old lies
Dead bodies always have drawn flies
21.8k
Kashmir Delirium
Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we,
For each act of benevolence shown to us.
Your gilded sweet words describing,
The beauty of Kasmir, land and people.
Mention in books and talks of it's riches,
Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth.
The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir,
Treasure of resources in every sphere.
To elevate each aspect, our wish for life,
As every acre of this land is worth millions.
Full of treasures and recreational value,
Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers.
The outside world's view is so limited,
Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty.
Mentioned in world forums and organizations,
But what of the goal of giving us freedom?
What has The UN established in our name?
To measure the pain and anguish we bear,
At the hands, of our supposed benefactors.
The saviours who has us fractured.
But in reality they train their enforcers,
In the art of creating oceans of tears.
The red blood now hidden in camouflage,
The spent shells now gathered and hidden.
The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams,
Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists.
Joint conferences to address personal interests
Dialogues that never address the root issues.
Just the formalities and no sympathy,
For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals.
The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated,
More augmentation of the security forces.
For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy,
Walk this land, you know as beautiful.
Religious leaders will teach you political artistry,
Sermons full of ambiguity and guile.
Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display,
Political apologists give great lessons.
Religion and religious ethnicity are tools,
That keep minds and bodies in total check.
Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb,
As promises are forgotten once office is obtained.
When writing of this succulent beautiful land,
Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices.
This land is being stripped of worldly treasures,
And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily.
The best of nation is the inhabitants,
Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
Put your head down
and werk.
Put your feet up
and twerk.
Run quickly
and watch the
pavement blur.
Don't ask questions.
Love you answers,
and explanations,
your valuations,
and justifications.
In the mood for pizza?
Cause the shop's on your left.
In 0.5 miles, it will be on your left.
ON YOUR LEFT.
YOUR DESTINATION IS ON THE LEFT.
Rerouting...
the protocol is exactly THIS,
not THAT.
So just do it.
checkmark.
Nike said so.
Just buy it.
we suggest it.
Just try the Quesarilla
#tacobell #mexicanfood #foodporn
#pleasegetmemoreviews
How bout a selfie
where you look miserable
and unhealthy.
But you're a celebrity.
Rub your likeness
on me and
I'll get you publicity.
#fire
#ice
#rain
What happened to real pain?
And did dissonance disappear?
Why must I hide my tears?
And be bright and happy
And ogle guys with fohawks
trimmed so carefully.
And live a lie,
of numbers and rye
bread is the worst,
sandwiched in bursts.
We all live
and we all hurt
and we all deserve
a life like hers.
who you say?
Kim Kardashian,
of course.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
We pride ourselves on being ‘America the Free’,
But how are we free when a he can’t marry a he?
Homosexuality is found in over 90 species,
but homophobia is only found in one.
If you want to blame someone, blame the straight people.
They’re the ones who keep having gay sons.
Not one Disney princess is a lesbian,
Not one superhero is gay.
Not all girls want a prince charming.
And not all men want a heroine someday.
They say, "Love is blind."
So why are we so blind to fact that love is love?
What has America come to that we’d rather see men holding guns, than holding hands?
Until recently, in the US military, admitting that you’re gay, had bans.
Homosexuality isn’t a disease.
You can’t catch it, and you can’t cure it.
Please.
Tiger Woods can have 19 mistresses,
Britney Spears can have a 55 hour marriage,
Kim Kardashian can get married for publicity,
But GAYS are corrupting the institution of marriage?
Closets are for clothes, not hiding.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Don’t tell me it can’t all be equally shared
Don’t tell me elections are fair
Anywhere
I know whose had the power
The weapons to prove it
The world in their hands
And the money to move it
Perpetual profit
New product to cell
Dwellin’ deep in the pocket
Of your lol
So don’t tell me with Twitter you’re not all Obsessed
When you buy every lie presidential address
Comin’ hot off the press
Not so free to inform
A pornhub tuggin’ ******
Publicity Storm
And another blackout
On my people uncovered
Like Firestone burnin’ through natives
Unrubbered
Don’t tell me you don’t have the cure
Or that war
Isn’t waged on the people
To sheeple the poor
To the industry slaughterhouse
Dream factory
Where success is a breath of fresh
Debt peony
I know slavery still puts
That food on the table
And big pharma’s FDA puppets, the label
So don’t tell me dope is what’s making us Dumb
Don’t tell me my God’s not the LSD sun
Or that guns aren’t hired
To desecrate my
Sanctified inner peace
Keepin’ graffiti sky
For my ties to this earth
Are invaluable worth
So don’t tell me my rights haven’t been mine Since birth
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
THE SAXOPHONE STORY
BY RAJ NANDY
The Saxophone is perhaps the most expressive
instrument next to the human voice.
Was made by Adolphe Sax, a Belgian, through
a deliberate choice!
He wanted to offset the tonal disparity, -
Between the string, wind, and brass instruments,
with musical clarity !
He felt that the strings ones were overpowered
by the wind instruments.
While the wind instruments got overblown by
the brass ones instead !
Now what would happen if the best qualities
of these three instruments types,
Could in a fusion blend and coalesces into a single
instrument type ?
So finally at the age of 20 years, in March Eighteen
Hundred and Thirty Four,
Adolphe Sax created a magical instrument for the
World to hear and adore!
It had the power of the brass, the flexibility of the
strings, and the woodwind’s variety and tone;
Which got christened after Adolphe Sax as the
SAXOPHONE !
Adolphe’s famous composer friend Hector Berlioz
in Paris City,
Gave this new instrument wide publicity!
In 1844 the Sax was presented in the Industrial
Exhibition at Paris;
And subsequently got patented on 20 March 1846.
It soon got adopted by the Bands of the French Army.
Making other instrument makers to become green
with envy!
The Sax was 80 years old when it became part of the
musical instruments of the Jazz Band.
A small bore mouth piece was created to suite the
varying tonal qualities required by Jazz.
Initially, 14 different sizes of Sax was created by
Adolphe.
Today only five types are in use for us to hear and
see;
The Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass and the Baritone
Saxophone.
They now form a part of our Jazz music's backbone!
- By Raj Nandy
FOOT NOTES :
Adolphe Sax (1814-1894) , son of famous musical instrument maker
Charles Joseph Sax of Belgium. Woodwind Instruments = Flute, Clarinet, Bassoon etc. Brass Instruments = Trumpet, Tuba, Cornet etc. String Instruments = Violin, Guitar, Harp, Banjo etc. The Saxophone today has become the very backbone of Jazz Music!
** ALL COPY RIGHTS ARE RESERVED BY: - RAJ NANDY **
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC
West reality made so
that people forced to consume
whatever material or unmaterial goods
here any protest is legalised
in form of demo
which is necessary surround by police
northeless there are people exist who are illegal
beside of refugees from east lands
there also socalled insane people
who are locked in closed loony bin
or hunted like amok
untill they really get insane
if you take separately each after other
their fate and observe it precise
you will find there all the evil of
patriarchal repression
what is the consequence of capitalism
patriarchal repression
which is so masterfully comuflaged in west
but since the victims, the renegades live on rand of society
no one ever take their lifes and deaths under lenses
just example:
feminists dont fight for the rights of the debased woman
in their neigbourhood
but just speculate about arbitrageness in Iran
not ever able to change something in afar lands
they simply ignore evil which happens beside them
every day, every night
there is pseudo-publicity in capitalism
since those who rebel against
become mostly so oppressed
that they never ever get any chance to
speak out loud
and revenge!
While those anarchists and punks
who squats in city and towns
will never give political asylum
to the one who's life circumtances
penetrate to be betrayed by friends
living on the streets and parks
and hunted by psychiatry
during anarchists and punks are not
real activists of underground
but just kind of subculture
which live quite comfortably in capitalism
it just funky to be anarchist or punk
and nobody knows how they will act
in critical situation
I lost my believe on socalled leftists
in fact they are same equal part of society
like bankers or yuppies
with a difference that they
pretend they still had some ideals!
known to many
believed by the few as
the truth
Accordingly my individual struggle their claim
is nothing as fallacy
whom believe? Whom with resist in action?
Where hides real iconoclasts?
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 6:04 AM UTC
Are we change makers?
Do we really influence others in a positive way?
Do we really matter to others?
Do we really care for others?
Doesn't matter what others think of us
Doesn't matter whether others care what we say
Or what we do,
We keep doing the things
Which we feel is good for the world
Good for the next generation
If they listen, good
If not, we don't stop
what we have been doing
but continue with our spirit
and commitment of
bringing some change,
however minuscule it might be
Because we are not concerned
about the publicity we get or not
we just want to bring in change
the way things are transacted
and carried out...
Because the world can not continue
doing business as usual
things are going out of hand
things are going to disintegrate..
Let us be the change-makers
even if others don't care
don't listen
time will come when what we do
is seen and appreciated..
we are the
change-makers...
you can also be ..
let us unite and work
for a common bright future...
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
Why do artists **** their arts?
Journalists obey corporate bosses.
Doctors peddle drugs for status.
Lawyers work for robber barons.
Bankers' havens for barons' taxes.
Kings start wars for hefty profits.
Charity's done for the sake of publicity.
Vanity today is a thriving industry.
Shopping's done with borrowed money.
Bankruptcy levels; not seen in history.
From hazardous things; profits aplenty.
Poisoned wells we leave our progeny.
These lunacies have a common cause,
To win 'the rat race'; at any **** rate,
Even earthly mother, we brutally ****
How much is enough, to be content?
Pharaoh's wealth was greater than most,
But while he drowned, it saved him not.
Instead, strive for a righteous life,
Bonded to mother, free from desire.
For we're not islands, or rats in a race.
And when we stand on Judgement Day,
Our wealth that day will have no say,
Our deeds that day will lead the way.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Sorry losers and haters but my IQ is one of the highest
Somehow I dont quite believe that but I am pretty biased
See I think you're a ***** Donald Trump I really do
Because what intelligent person would think the following is true
Muslims should be denied entry into the great United States
Surley by doing this you will go down in history as one of the greats?
Or by telling transgenders they can't serve in the forces
And doctors should be punished by administering abortions
How's that great big wall of yours currently going?
Have the Mexicans offered to pay for it or are you still not knowing?
Now I have to say I think your face is one big publicity stunt
So I'm just going to go ahead and be brutally blunt
Donald Trump I think your a
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't hide it---we miss them:|
me being a runaway flying in the black hinges
soaring in the twinkling skies
I crave you as a hungry wolf that knows no boarders of freedom
in there in the shady street
as I dive into my vulnerability you sense my need
you sense my desperation
its like you read my locked lines
among the flowers of the highs
in the publicity of tamed crimes
you have me
running on rage
screaming on blades
the cake comes and you appear none
lying down
hating the crowds
the bargaining weight of these suicidal sounds
where are you???
nowhere to be found
leave me in yells when the time ends and dwells
this is a first in a hell
do you intend to choke me to death again???
it is me who you pressed undamned on your wided chest
and carried it all away in a mild stance
when no one dares
to a slightest bare of your cans or cares
don't forget me still not lying
still breathe for your touch
and your essence on that spot
just tell me where
and my heart will voluntarily beware
to be awaiting a hold of torments in the bliss of fair
when you mindlessly gear
affording to disappear
a night changes its shades into a million gleams
you seem to draw on my warm sheers
------ravenfeels
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 1:56 PM UTC
*the ones warring on the flag of defeat can't be called either troll or parasite... too noble such entitlements, they are the **** genus worthy of ignorance, that they are found roaring on the flag of defeat, when such publicity is allowed of public musing deeper than soft-spoken in one's own room, as transcript of thought made public, ironically without one's geographic coordinates... and what lack of honour to be warring with such circumstances being allowed.*
i shouldn't have written my words among poets,
too many simplicities surrounded them,
with the poets came made surrogates,
a stillbirth, if nothing more
9 months of **** as the new economics
that gave us appreciative homosexuality,
a curbing of the expeditions of population
we didn't blame on Chinese or Blue Indians
due to having inherited masochistic Christianity,
the last greek mythology, THE, LAST!
and no more from the greek tongue! no more!
then the second feat of the suffragettes
that became the surrogates...
and yet, i stilled braved to sing
for the escapist tongue of
brotherhood that the misty mountain's cold
encapsulated... in which i braved
the brotherhood, every, second, counter,
to marriage to a woman...
domestication is no adventure! it's no adventure!
there is no fear and sudden death in
domestication... it breeds cattle! readied for
death not ready! *two dungeons deep and caverns old...
the pines were roaring on the hight!
the winds were mourning in the night...
the fire was red it flamed and spread,
the trees like torches, blazed with light.*
this... this is my ideal afterlife! take your Koran
and terrorism and take a **** in the desert with
the cats for worth of knowing such "exquisiteness"
as it might be worth mining in the dunes of sand!
while the thirst of metalloid and abstract horse-tow
gives your false timing...
and when you take this anger written on the flag
of defeat, and turn to warring with it on your own
flag of defeat... you will be conquered,
slain and tortured, as is my promise, always
honourable.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
345
Funny—to be a Century—
And see the People—going by—
I—should die of the Oddity—
But then—I’m not so staid—as He—
He keeps His Secrets safely—very—
Were He to tell—extremely sorry
This Bashful Globe of Ours would be—
So dainty of Publicity—
1.6k
Your reputation is your life.
You only think about that.
It's what you want and love.
You leave the people close to you
for the glamour and the publicity,
for bright lights and bad people.
But you have lost the soul,
the love, the happiness.
You only know pain, anger and sadness.
Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 7:12 PM UTC
Standing straight in the swirling straits,
A bridge - now outdated - whose chains bear great weight and history,
Bejewelled with diamond raindrops that glisten in the winter sun,
Lending the old bridge the look of a semi-submerged crown.
This bridge is a source of pride to the islanders,
Many stories are told of it,
Some are true and some are legend,
But one tale lies inbetween:
That of a giant King chased from the island.
Forced to leap across the boiling straits,
Barely making landfall,
Falling backwards as he did so,
Watching in horror as his crown tumbled to the ground,
Falling into the grey waters.
Many years went by,
And modern ways demanded a bridge.
As foundations were laid a discovery made!
Upon the shore, deep in ancient mud,
Poked out a colossal rusting iron crown,
News broke!
Everyone spoke!
The story was true!
A giant King had once ruled!
So, in honour of this ancient King,
The design was amended to honour this crown,
And that is why this bridge, in profile,
Resembles the ancient coronet,
Found on the shore of the waters that the Romans failed to cross.
Of course, naysayers claim there was no crown,
Merely publicity seekers who found an old iron fence,
And who contrived a tale with willing locals.
Whichever is true,
The bridge is part of a glorious view,
And stories abound of its construction,
Like the man who walked the length of the chain,
Stopping halfway to take in the view whilst making a shoe!
Or of the maiden who swore that all who crossed would suffer a loss,
As great as they could ever imagine.
This bridge, whose beauty is unsurpassed,
Is now part of a glorious past of truths, lies and legends.
But forever it will stand,
And many more stories it shall inspire,
For it no longer simply links lands,
But now links truth and myth...
Am byth.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 5:05 PM UTC
Chubby quivering droplets falling from the sky,
splattering themselves across my skin.
Too foolish to look up from my computer screen,
from my technology,
publicity,
my box.
To see the many shades of moss green and grey
that had been laid like a blanket
across the city
overnight.
Running.
A compulsion.
Tight tank top,
shorts,
sneakers,
and gloves.
I run with my long hair down,
whipping wildly as I dash down the street.
Into the forest I go,
It’s dangerous they say,
There are bad people there,
But I don’t care.
I run through the forest,
Dodging trees,
Hopping over logs and ditches,
My heart beating faster with each
Ominous rumble of the distant thunder.
As I run,
An uncontrollable smile breaks out across my face.
1 mile marker,
2 mile marker,
3 mile marker,
4 mile marker,
of nonstop running
and a nonstop smile.
Fresh air,
With the calming scent of rain.
You can’t run forever though,
I reach the end and see a gate,
I could go on but the thunder rumbles ferociously,
Beckoning me.
Thunder is easy to ignore when you’re otherwise occupied,
But when you’re stopped,
The irrational fear of the distant booms take over,
And I run back.
4
3
2
1
out of the forest with the lightening and
beating of the drums
smacking at my feet.
I come inside,
Soaking wet,
I open my window and turn off the lights and open my computer to write a poem.
The power goes off.
The thunder rumbles kindly,
As if asking me to come back outside,
In nature.
How beautiful it is, this rainy weather.
How sad it makes me, to know that tomorrow
I will still be wet,
Not from rain,
But from sweat.
I love the grey,
I love the moss,
I love the flashing of lightening
Streaking boldly across the blank canvas above.
I flinch at the thunder.
But I smile as the rain comes down,
Breathing vivid life into a bleak world.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
They like it.
When it's positive.
They can't stand it.
When it's negative.
It's fame.
Oh, the publicity game they play.
Receiving many, many free type things.
Smiling and attending many events.
Least when they first starting out.
As the fame continue to grow.
Soon, within time they become inclusive.
As, if fans are too good to know.
This I don't sign autographs.
I guess they under the impression.
They made themselves.
It's the fame that has them thinking this way.
Scandals, affairs and the snooping of the press.
Now have them pretending to be someone else.
They might be Sophia Sunshine or River Jones.
Just to keep the scandals , from being known.
Spokes people speaking.
And trying their best to spin a lie.
Should have advised their client to be truthful up front.
The very first time.
Rehab.
Rehab on drugs legal and illegal too.
We all know of some famous person going through this.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 7:19 AM UTC
I get hurt I don't mind. She gets hurt I don't care,
You get hurt I worry a lot a lot
Because I care,
I never want to see you hurt,
From all her drama and turmoils,
You still don't realise that its me who
Cares.
She's driven you through hell,
Some little publicity and all.
Silly little drama that could have pushed me way but still I stood with
My sobering heart
Waiting for my chance to
Comfort
You after her dread
And heal your wounds from her
Sharp swords.
It is my endless love that makes me
Care
Yet I don't mind that you are never
Going to love me.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
My my my
how time has flown
fully grown
cities living organisms
concrete equivalent to soil
buildings burst through the layers
windows errupt
beautiful
slower
wind in grass blades
everglades
marshes of alligators
chomping at nobody
publicity stunts
running for president
he shall be
doing
so grand a guy
sweet, heat
low and usually
a bit
timid
nevertheless
combustable.
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 1:06 AM UTC
*Oh Abbey Road
who has walked your heart
singing from way back then
only the most famous of all
only to end with Let It Be
and please Just Imagine in 1969...
John, you wouldn't have many years left
your birthday came and we always loved
Paul, you will continue to sing your heart
and fly with Wings
Ringo, Sweet Sixteen, Your beautiful
and your mine
George singing to your SWEET LORD ...
We miss you John, its your birthday
your words are still magic, as we follow
you down Abbey Lane....although a bullet
took you away that FATEFUL day
December 8, 1980.
It left holes in our hearts
The torture, the publicity and Beatle mania'
took a toll, your life had an aura, you would come
on and perform a miracle just one last time
as we follow you down Abbey Lane and the Yoga
acid trip ...
Happy Birthday dear John
you are sooooo missed .
Debbie
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
I hid my feelings inside a book
Reason for this would be because an epiphany took,
see I'm one for cheesy smirks and all the perks of socializing with people of my age. But it just seems like a dumbing down of me because no one in my generation reads if it's not about gossip or vampire teens. While I'm stuck between the borderline of reality and books. Literature has surely become dominant and is the addiction at foot. But still the issue being that my peers would rather throw their life away in an intoxicated haze especially with little to no education is what makes me sick. Guys after *** girls flashing their **** and all for publicity. Infamy which has very little time in the limelight before it becomes a bore. Drugs are what they crave, *** is what they're all searching for, and I say this with great abhor.
I hid my feelings inside a book,
Reason for this is because an epiphany took.
No one in my generation reads but this rant is something I wish they'll heed.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
they said we had to read the Diary of Ann Frank,
but there was a movie w/ Shelley Winters; I didn't
bother reading the book, saw the movie & fell in
love w/ Ann, & the whole "In spite of everything,
I still believe that people are really good at heart,"
& thought, if only ****** had met her; he would've
dropped the whole Final Solution thing in favor
of his art & spent his time painting beside the Röhr
w/ this beautiful Jewish Esther-like Princess
writing in her seemingly never ending journal,
making him think of of Geli & Eva & Leni;
Leni not far off shooting roll after roll of vivid
color film, Eva frolicking in swimsuit, the perfect
Miss Third ***** poor Geli, taking her own life
w/ uncle Adolf's gun, so he said, or the last person
he ever killed personally; Rohm & the gay Nazis
dealing w/ Goebbels' relentless publicity machine
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 12:24 PM UTC
hold up
let's keep it real
I see you weaving through the masses
pockets full of whatever
of whatever grabbed your attention
this week
now all you can do
is hope you don't
get caught
trying hard not to show your guilt
clawing at any minute chance
of an escape from the powerful
from the confinement brought upon you
against your will
against America's will
walking slow enough to seem unaffected
but quick enough not to draw suspicion
you're a coward
you're a thief
someone should take you out
"but my kids", you say
"but my girl is struggling", you plead
"but my ma is dying", you cry
"but I lost my job and-" handcuffs
sirens
shame
publicity
rough
life is freaking rough
now all you can do
is hope you don't
get shot
hold up
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC