Best Commentators Poems
We go to war
to acquire more
Land
We go to war
to protect our investment
the Oil 'neat the sand
We go to war
to depose your 'evil leader'
strike up the band
We go to war
because we're right and you're wrong
about internet broadband
We go to war
because your country is corrupt, impure
as your dark-colored hands...
So, many will die
wives and mothers will cry
the world will shrug and sigh
commentators will ask Why...
Whatever the reason
There's no way to 'ease in'
So many will die ~
Can't war just be banned
As a kid they said technology
would lead us to a better life,
and in many ways they are correct,
tech does many things right.
I suppose I was just naïve
to thing there would be no downside,
now I love/hate the internet,
there are a thousand reasons why…
I love that endless information
is just a single click away /
I hate that there is so much
that it overwhelms the brain.
I love that I can buy anything,
have it delivered rather quick /
I hate endless adds in e-mail,
trying to sell me something slick.
I love that every genre is there,
in every medium, and every type /
I hate that half of it hides viruses
that will steal away your life.
I love that video posting sites
bring old music to the crowds /
I hate the video ‘commentators,’
so inane, rambling, and loud.
I love that every point of view
has a place to makes its pitch /
I hate government and tech giants
always trying to censor it.
I love that every single interest
has a place to blow of stress /
I hate people acting like morons,
and then claiming they’re ‘oppressed.’
I love that you can meet others
who may share your predilections /
I hate that being ‘connected’
soon becomes a damn addiction.
I love that you can reach the world
from the comforts of your home /
I hate that this very same world
then never leaves you alone.
I love that a person can work
from anywhere on any day /
I hate that distance no longer
makes reality go away.
Of course it’s not like it is
ever gonna go anywhere,
we’re forever stuck in between
thankfulness and despair.
I guess the net will ever be
a both sweet and bitter pill,
I love/hate the internet,
and I guess I always will.
Zillion supporters screaming, a loud buzz,
Yearning to return home cheered by victory.
Xerox machines preparing the next day’s papers; Max
Wit for the shame or fame of a member of the show.
Violent vitriol from commentators like engine rev
Unites with supporters’ glee at likes of Eto’o or Kanu
To spur skill at each minute to get even one stunning stunt
Spirits soar, sink, so it is, for here serenity bores.
Roulette, lifté, counter-attack by one party raising the roar.
Quick kick! Oh no! Replay?! Why not? That must join the FAQ
Pray the corner kick slays the opponent; oh that header was sharp!
Oh he missed that goal again! No replay?! Hell no!
No! Now he’s channeled that ball too late for the man,
May the coach coach correctly and call him to quit the team!
Leave the pitch you little loss-bringing imp! LOL!
Khaki-wearing “messer” I can even get your reek!
Just as our jests are about to milk out laughs, I couldn’t find a word to end with “J”.
Instead I had a whole lot of them J-starting words. So I
Hunched to think, but then looked up at the BROOHAH:
GOAL GOAL!! Oops the scorer is the "Mr. Bug"!
Fooled? No, I’m still for him leaving,( Scoring oaf!)
Even though this elation, release and joy, came from his device!
Defensive tactics, offensive backing up, I can almost get mad
‘Cos the best defense is attack Doc!
Bye losers, we took this easy. Supporters bob
Away, and the whole stadium sleeps in the starlight bathed by mother Luna.
(c) Nyonglema
It could be noticed in media networks
either on television or newspapers,
how some writers document issues
with scores of errors or buthered grammar.
A literature in a hurry, a scripted discourse,
it’s what many demonstrate clearly
both in written and oral communication;
a powerful medium with a sense of liberation.
A ubiquitous voice, everywhere in this land,
its tapestry gets stronger in its own groove;
like those commentators or byliners,
able to articulate their own opinions.
But certain things in different settings
how those people speak with humor
at times make blunders wafting across
the growing audience and readers.
They say a picture is worth 1,000 words,
that exemplifies a reality in action;
as an instruction from the Lord
this Hebrew word from Zechariah’s book -
Dabru emet : speak the truth.
What a name called?
Football a game called,
To known arena called stadium,
Played eleven to eleven side to side each,
Formations of it kinds,
Aims of a two goal post net,
Aims of a trophy,
Aims of winning,
In a color Jersey of its kinds,
In a color booths of it kinds,
Side to side balls picking sons round,
Spectators sat rounding pitch watching,
Centered with a nominated referee officiating,
Lined with a two lines men flagged,
Officials of substitutions in questions,
Pronounced by named commentators,
Red and yellow cards rules in question,
Supported keys of volunteers,
Supported with all sorts of supporters,
Declared a stadium manager jobs,
Declared a team manager jobs,
Host the nations, Host the world,
At moment of a country designated!
At moment of a country authorized!
Called for all practitioners....
Photographers, Cinematography, Press, Medias, Adverts, Sponsors, critics, etc. centred.
What a name called?
Football! football! ! football! ! !
A rounded leather circled!
Circled in its color of its choices,
Declared fifa authorities,
Declared statistical over all game,
Respect covered face to face,
Stretchers officials in uniforms of its officials medications,
Football a game called,
With boots of its kinds worn,
Saddled a whole lot supporters,
Saddled a whole lot analysts,
Presumption for a nation's glory,
Preemptive individuals' desirably for survival,
Football a game called,
Called to the passionate in spirit,
Football a game called,
Embrace understanding to unnamed,
Embrace love to unloved,
Embrace unity to diversities,
Embrace creativity to un-creativity,
Football a game called,
Adore a nature,
Football a game called,
Called to a glorious home,
Football a game called,
A rounded leather circled!
With boots of its played,
With jersey of its kinds,
With choices of many kinds,
Football a game called.
Part One
“The Kurral owes much of its popularity to its exquisite poetic form. A kurral is a couplet containing a complete and striking idea expressed in a refined and intricate metre. No translation can convey an idea of its charming effect. […] The brevity rendered necessary by the form [composed in the Venpa metre] gives an oracular effect to the utterances of the great Tamil ‘Master of the sentences.’ They are the choicest of moral epigrams. […] Tiruvalluvar is generally very simple, and his commentators very profound.”
Rev. G.U. Pope, Former Fellow of Madras University
[Pardon these futile measly words from your great Potiya height: they can hardly belittle your true worth.]
Under what leaky hutment roof by stamped-mud floors
trembling clair-oscuro straw-wick kuttuvilakku
on the stark anvil of crisp phrase and sparse syntax
by the raging nama-nir rhyming brine
at Mayilapur’s S.Thomé sandy doors
while peacocks danced to your innate pulsating chimes
have you chipped away at uncut gems
Those the Yavanas brought with the monsoons
or such as your sea-daring captain friend Elela-Cinkan’s
Even those the Christian missionaries preached
in daredevil enticement
after St.Thomas fell to a vel stuck in his bosom
or of those like you who were stamped underfoot
Caste in cast-iron strictures
Priest only to the proclaimer paraiyar drum-beaters
The warp and woof of intricately woven venpa verse
elevating your weaving clan to fresh artistic heights
YET
in the humbled ways of your birth
on whose steps have you pitched your ears
whose wisdom have you had to pilfer
filter
whose ways have you had to ape
whose mere thoughts have you then had to set aright
ennoble
and remould into inextinguishable lines
Or had you tread the ahimsa path of gentle-foot Jains
Treading gently the earth for fear of loping boot pains
(Continued in Part Two)
What goes into
caucus and committee
and what comes out
of caucus and committee
what dialogue travels
the halls of Congress
and what dialogue is absent
from those consecrated halls
what is debated on
the floor stays on the floor
and what rises to the ceiling
stays on the ceiling
a high wire act in a circus of clowns and puppets
trip over each other to raise money for themselves
what elevates the heavy
gavel of procedure
and what brings that mighty
wooden gavel down
who is written out of trade
partnership agreements
and who is written into trade
partnership agreements
what is left out of
national security legislation
and what is written
into security legislation
it has the shape and style and sound and appearance
of democracy but some fingers and toes are missing
cloaked in rhetoric
and petulant rant representatives
buzz from one special interest
flower to the other
pushing debased agendas
and empty proposals with impunity
unaware that every single meeting
and motion and voice
is attached to the life of
a determined and diligent citizen
dependent upon their
conscientiousness and empathy
clichés and bromides shift fast between nattering teeth
ranks close in and capacity for clear hearing thins out
tabloids and blogs are
the prime sources of knowledge
and gravitas is a slow steamboat
on the Mississippi
commentators and pundits
flap thick wicked tongues
giving lip service to Constitutional
principles and purpose
all thriving in a happy
broadband land where drones
drop bombs far away as
we sleep in peace and comfort
turn up the Wi-Fi
have another pitcher of brew
no need to ponder the wretched
who make it possible
for all of us
to live
Partisanship hinders compromise
Oblivious voters put cronies into power
Likeability trumps substance
Idiotic commentators bicker
Tension builds amongst the people
Idealouges pollute the system
Charming individuals manipulate
Society falls apart
Once I told a married Baptist missionary, I wanted to be one. Carol said, "Roxanne, Everett needs missionaries too." She meant I should bloom where I was planted. But we both were much younger then.
Transport myself into the 21st century. I am no longer a Baptist, but am a Lutheran. I am no longer middle aged, I am sixty-five years young. And I try my humble best. In spreading the good news of the gospel on the internet. Reaching more people than I ever reached before.
And I am no alone. Many poets and Biblically commentators are much better informed. Not to mention more talented than I ever will become. What we have in common? Our mutual love and respect for Jesus Christ. We are all part of the body of Christ. We are a part of his established church. We belong to him. He is the bride groom and we are his bride.
We need to bloom where we are planted. In many parts throughout the known world. The good news of the gospel is prohibited and restrictive. Many modern day disciples pay the ultimate price. Sacrificing both their freedoms and also their very lives. They have obtained a wonderful heavenly reception and rewards at the Beama seat of Christ. They will be reaping what they sowed.
There is an opened door for spreading the good currently available in the United States. I am composing this while there are no real restrictions.
I visited a Christian web site. I tried to post a bible verse on Facebook.
It was not allowed because some people might find it objectional. And they feel they have both the privileges' and the rights to restrict religious speech.
In the good old United States! I dearly love and pray for my beloved homeland.
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
March 06, 2020
Poem 9/11
Believe me,
Just watching my TV
News Flash!! Skyjack!
New York City Centre,Jet Crash.
Check that.
News Call,Broadcast stall.
Drop the headlines!!
This is the new line
Look up on the Skyline
Flash,Bash,Crash
Right on the building top.
Biff Baff Heart attack,
On another line
Pentagon now a X a gone
Another plane drop.
Whats that?whats that?
Beam in on the spot.
Another streak across the sky
Sliiced another tower
Question asked.
Why,Why,Why?
Whats going on?Whats going on?
Another crash,big explosion
Switch broadcast over to Washington
Whats your impression? Whats your emotion.
Bystanders,commentators,confusion
"Whats your reaction"?
Can't believe my eyes J
Just as it began,I realize
This is an atrocity
Right here,in the heart of the city.
Terrorist attack.Terrorist Attack
Then the burning Walls a falling
Like crashing dominoes
Right to the ground.
Limbless,Lifeless,a giant fallen.
Armagadeon has arrived,without warning
CIA, FBI,Home Security Then the Guv
Connecting,Enquiring
Blaming intelligence,asking why.
Collate and evaluate
Then the appropriate reply.
Calling the president for a comment.
"What do you think of unfolding events"?
"WE will find the perpetrators one by one
Whether he is hiding in Iraq,Iran, or Pakistan.
We will call up the troops,assembly the galleon,
Then bomb them ,blast them Clean up their land,
Bring in new administrations,
Thats the plan
Fireman, Policemen,all on the scene
"This is total disaster,the worst we ever seen.
Engines,sirens,surgeons and volunteers
Combining efforts in a stream.
Such a nightmare, awful dream
But in the present, the on going theme.
They came like locust
A clustering crowd clattering leaves
And when the cloud into cirrus strads had fade
I saw nothing the same as before.
Heap upon heap they came
Tormenting everything whose structure
Or bone or faith is metallic,
Tearing down bridges, or train lines
Or cables of communication
Leaving us to be spectators
And non-strategic commentators of greed.
It is a strange occupation
In a country without mines, or manufacturers
Forging iron and steel into added value of history
Our energy and vision
Has no capacity for such excursion
From the dilemma of our tormented box.
I shudder when the land is barren
When we no longer import the finite supply
I shudder when the pockets run dry like rivers
Whose beds we do not clean
Or is it only I that see the forecast of the storm?
I'm aiming in every direction so you better duck down
You've came up against the champ, Sorry but your luck's out
One strike will have you dizzy and see your blood rush out
I call my pen Anthony Joshua because we don't care who or what we have to punch out
Fear isn't real, It's a myth just like writers block
The champ isn't scared he will fight the lot
One by one, so bring on the opponent
I've felt the same way since Eminem told me to sing for the moment
Made a few poor choices but now I'm trying to turn it into a grand day
I just want to find a loyal girl who looks like Ariana Grande
No more bottling my emotions up and hiding in my man cave
No more fear in my heart, you won't see my hands shake
The Crowd screaming "Ali Bomaye" commentators saying "everyone should fear him"
He'll leave you screaming on the floor like Neymar at the world cup when no one was near him
He proves himself by winning then talks about the stats
I'm the Anthony Joshua of poetry and that's a fact
I'm aiming in every direction so you better duck down
You've came up against the champ sorry but your luck's out
One strike will have you dizzy and see your blood rush out
I call my pen Anthony Joshua because we don't care who or what we have to punch out
Ronaldo, The New Emperor
It is the news in Portugal, the footballer Ronaldo has won a golden football
and the country rejoices, after Eusebio died a new emperor is needed,
a hero people can look up to, one who can continue the people’s culture....
Football!
This, perhaps, is modernity, technology that and instant messages is coming
down to a game of football and a TV that has commentators who cannot stop
talking about it. The mind appears not to expand as modern skill does, oft it
little behind to the days when people asked why rivers tended to run into
the ocean, luckily they lacked skills to make rivers run faster by making them
straighter shaving off curves and circles.... The reason we live in relative peace
has to do what great thinkers thought and wrote about and influenced our
imperfect brains, we looked up to the stars and asked questions, a curiosity that
made us civilized, but modern mass media made us multicultural and bland.
In the end life is a game of soccer, and a football has no corners.
So Britain's made its exit
From the Union it was part of.
No one can predict what this
Will really be the start of.
Hits to the economy?
A government in flux?
Changes in the worth of pounds,
Of Euros and of bucks?
Political upheavals
As the EU muddles on?
Equilibrium upset
With Britain really up and gone?
It's way too complicated, though,
For me to understand.
I watch the news but just don't have
The facts at my command.
The commentators slyly
Have some questions up their sleeve.
My favorites are "Will Portugo?"
And, too, "Will Italeave?"
Dearest Brother Jerry.
Regarding our current government,
This has been a nation of laws
Based on recognizing the Creator God
Has given its citizens, that support its laws,
Basic freedoms, rights and privileges
I used my right to vote for Donald Trump.
I prayed that God would allow him to rule our nation.
And while driving across our county on Election Day
I was amazed at the people standing out on the street corners
And hanging homemade banners from bridges
Stating their support for Trump.
And listening to public radio commentators
Debating how they missed the Trump vote
Because they were all taught Ivy League philosophy
On how people should live and think as world citizens,
Which obviously is not the voter’s truth.
Our current President, to my knowledge
Never held public elected office or governmental position.
He formed a team of people with integrity and dismisses any
That do not hold to the requirements of our laws.
After a year in office, our President has
Shown strong national and world leadership
In our form of democracy,
Which educated societies are attempting
To gain in their more aristocratic countries.
He is not perfect; I do not prefer his communication style.
But he has gained the world’s attention and only one
World leader is currently publically threatening him.
By comparison our Past President was an experienced
Elected state and national official and an excellent public speaker.
My concern with him was that neither I, nor the world’s leaders,
Believed what he said because he did not follow through.
He was always seeking peace at any price.
He did not show strong support for our law enforcement and military.
And of great personal concern was his practice of
Worshiping with the followers of Mohammed,
Who have a significantly different moral code
And law than that which Jesus Christ taught
And which the founders of our nation generally held.
With my love for you for eternity,
Mike Dillenbeck