Best Newsman Poems
Unique newsman Andy Rooney,
did not look like a George Clooney;
beetling brows grew too much hair,
verbalist extraordinaire.
Copyright, May 17, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
A dog with a missing leg
Knocked down by a driver
Drove at dog speed
And barked away
We have stopped to see
A group of people, too
The dog with a missing leg
And smoke from nearby hut
The municipal is here
Health officer with a spade
Staring at the carcass
And calling for backup
The cop's siren is here
Looking around curiously
I wonder why, for a dog
And bullet in the barrels
A man looks on and yawns
A sharp kitchen knife in hand
He looks anxious
And prays for a miracle
A newsman looks on
Been here for long
A canon camera at hand
He waits for his time
The dog with a missing leg
Has brought us together
Nobody speaks but we talk
There is tension in the air
No rules of engagement
Someone is angry, another one hungry
Someone is joking, another one hoping
we are here on our terms
This is a anecdote about not taking things for granted....
Seeing how we often jump to conclusions based on wrong assumptions...
A top notched news photographer was in a mighty hurry...
He saw a plane on the taxiway, pilot in place and take off all ready...
He jumped quickly into the plane and commanded the pilot to take off and start flying....
Shortly after, he asked the pilot to make a turn to over where a forest fire was raging..
There was a moment's hesistation before the pilot queried why...
Pompously, the newsman replied he was a news reporter, that was why...
There was a another moment of silence, longer than the earlier momentary hesitation...
Then a quavering voice from the pilot, "You are not my new flight instructor?"... ..
Don't simply assume or jump to conclusions...
It can bring forth dire consequences...
Have a nice day, people!
Footnote..... sharing a message from Facebook 20Sept2016
Nostalgia and I
sat waiting rain and more breeze
my wind chimes all sang.
As I rocked pines swayed
a summer wreath held bird nest
right on my front porch.
The honey inside
I sat alone looking up
At churning dark clouds.
I thought, what strange sight
afternoon turned dark as night
could rain storms cause fright?
Four fledglings shivered
I'd been accustomed to mom
tweeting to her nest.
This bunting lingered
hovering low for me to see
I needed to flee.
That's when I rose
and as I opened glass door
mean wind intervened.
It snatched hostage screen
I had to close wooden door
April's mood was sore.
The newsman confessed
storm turned tornado at best
we stood in darkness.
We saw pine trees snapped
from kitchen window we saw
mighty trees toppled.
Then wind and rain stopped
just like that April's mood changed
she'd come to destroy.
Neighbors filled the streets
many homes were demolished
ours had small damage.
The spot where I sat
rocking was also hot spot
but I was saved.
I would've been chopped
then blown far to smithereens
like innocent four.
Our neighborhood was
war zone sans any bodies
folks scouted about.
While I waited rain
the Aunt and her husband sped
by shocked I was out.
I think to myself
to be spoken to by birds
is like words from God.
*
Written for: Debbie Guzzi's Three Line Poetry contest, April 14th deadline
(Three Line Poetry)
Godzilla Dreams
My little dragon is growing up. I do believe he’s just had his first crush.
In his cave with a sign ‘To Enter, Beware’, are Godzilla posters everywhere.
And he talks about her non-stop, all day long, Godzilla this, and Godzilla that.
This morning he mentioned contacting her so…Yes, he wants to bring her home.
Now, this did not make me a happy song, Dragon and Godzilla, together in my yard!
I sat him down to explain, his precious hopes, were only pipe dreams, in any regard.
The only communicating, he had done, is talking to TV screens and horror shows.
The Godzilla he saw, and the Godzilla he’d find… might be two very different kinds.
Like with any kid, this did not go off well, for he packed his bag and flew to Tokyo.
Yep, as you guessed she’s a treasure there… and a great big whooping movie star.
Every time he tried to talk… she blew him off, so as not to disturb, her next photo op.
But suddenly she became very interested in him; he’d be the new bad guy in a film.
She trounced him left, and she trounced him right, but never did he get a talking line.
She pushed him here, and she pushed him there, till he fell hard hurting, everywhere.
The buildings he landed on had sharp edges, till cuts and bruises were his final fate.
Then payment was a single kiss, lack luster at best, yep, a really fake movie star kiss.
As promotional time came around, again, he was pushed away, from every newsman.
Now our dragon is very self-centered you know, so with tears in eyes, he came home.
For days he moped around the house, as we all took turns… trying to cheer him up.
I got him his own photo layout in a magazine, the talk show circuit ruled supreme.
His heart was broken, but he’s a spirited thing, with lessons learned, important things.
What we dream, and what we think, we want, are not always the reality given to us.
He was just glad, to finally be home, and to leave the movies and Godzilla far behind.
He may not be the kindest thing, but he’s loved by all, and here the kisses aren’t fake.
Here, his faults will be tolerated as he grows up, yes HERE, he’s family, to one and all…
He’s back to the dragon, I did know, as we sit at the lake, in time out… What else?
A man came here to speak today,
students did not like him at all,
egged of by professors, quite enraged,
with no decency at all.
They claim we should ‘hear all sides,’
but when this man dared to speak,
they rioted and the police arrived
to end their fit of pique.
How delightfully tyrannical.
A man knelt down in quiet prayer
outside, during his break from work.
A coworker cried,”Can’t do that there!”
and proceeded to go berserk.
Yet when Khalil did the same,
facing east to find Mecca,
coworker said,”Respect their culture!
You have too, it’s the law!”
How delightfully tyrannical.
A boy applied to university,
his scores were of highest rank.
but his skin was too pale, you see,
and the admissions team, it stank.
It dropped him for a darker hue,
so it could claim it was ‘diverse.’
the poor boy was completely screwed
by academics quite perverse.
How delightfully tyrannical.
A businessman forgot to check
a small box on his tax returns.
Little then did he suspect
that this would get him burned.
Others, he knew, had been let go
for making such a small mistake,
but he did not have ‘correct’ politics,
and down came the weaponized state.
How delightfully tyrannical.
A newsman made Reifenstahl proud
when he targeted a small café,
who’s owner had said out loud
that his faith wasn’t keen on gays.
So that ‘objective’ media man
spread this guy’s private views around.
Protestors beat him till he couldn’t stand,
then left him lying on the ground.
How delightfully tyrannical.
They all come with smiles, big and broad,
they say ‘history is on our side,’
but if you do anything but applaud
they’ll crow that you should die.
Try to explain freedom to them,
they’ll proclaim you’re a fascist fool.
Try to explain individuality
and they’ll declare you racists too.
How delightfully tyrannical.
Sic semper tyrannis…
Ploop Plop
I flopped down onto the black leather coach
Wee Snaw
I inhaled deeply
Slowly i twisted my head to the right
The AT&T remote control lay blocked
Umph
An attempt to get the remote; I succeded
Click Click Click
I changed the channel
"A shooting at Sandy Hook" the weatherman said
"Elementary students 6-7 shot, gone, and dead"
Utter shock filled my mind
Slowly I pressed rewind
"6-7 shot, gone, and dead"
The newsman repeated
Again and again I began to lose control
Instantly I'd felt panic
My child, I thought
I grabbed my keys and began to run towards my car
Ring, ring, ring it rang several times
I stopped
"Answer the phone" I thought
Chink, I answered
"Susan"
"yes" I replied.
"She's gone."
Dan,
Dan is the man that tells all.
He lets us know the world,
is upside down, and turned around.
He lets us know it is on fire in one place
and flooding in another.
Dan walks the beaches and the parks,
the places we love in our hearts...
to soften the blow,
that leaves a glow...
burning like a bright light in the night.
Evil is taking the whole world by storm,
and only a few have bothered
to buy umbrellas.
The rest are watching as the clouds approach,
pretty lights flashing, like fireworks.
Most are asleep,
and running on empty... fumes.
They have no idea there is a cliff ahead,
and have not bothered to read,
even a single sign.
Dan the man keeps preaching.
He keeps teaching economics to us all.
He leads the lambs away
from the stockyards
and tries to set them free.
Dan is a warrior,
a modern-day soldier at arms.
His videotapes are his weapons...
They linger long after they have been watched,
and shared among many.
They make the darkness...
more afraid of the light.
(Dan is a YouTube newsman.)
We heard it over the radio
We heard it over the radio and I don’t know if it’s true
It was today at the gathering by the village square
The chief had just bought new batteries so everyone was there
The newsman sounded excited as he spelled out his story
He said a son of the soil is now the paramount chief of America
America, that land of the white man who once called us monkeys
And now I hear a monkey reigns over them
I recall it wasn’t April first so the chances were high
So high that the elders were summoned to look into the issue
For if the crown was for one of our soil then who were we to still toil
As the elders met we sat by the oracle and waited
Offering our obese goats and hailing our fore fathers
For now a born of their line had the world by its horn
When the elders emerged it was smiles instead of wrinkles
Mzee Ojok’s land was to house the village rice milling plant
The sons of Labeja would widen the village paths for tarmacking
Schoolteacher Okello would write the congratulatory letter
And remind him to start work as soon as possible
Fathers were to send virgin beauties for our new heroes’ bride
The choice of course would be his when he landed the iron bird
But for the first night, Chief Ocuc was giving up his own bed and wife
For whoever the gods choose, we their subjects must worship
Within one week all was set, new drums curved and songs proposed
Lands had been cleared and roads all trimmed
Mothers ceased weaving and busied grooming daughters
Eight years already and this son of Obama is not yet here
Yet today, the newsman said his reign is coming to an end
The elders believe its because the gods are angry with him.
Rhetoric! Over and over again, we hear
The same old arguments, year after year
Fooling around with mankind’s minds
You hide cleverly and can’t be found
The TV newsman reports, as they’re told
Edited, slanted, from whence banks hold
Merely slaves, to things, and slaves, who hear
Lies, tales, agendas, hidden, we’re captives
Sleep if you must, you’re probably ~ better off
Believe the TV ********, from comics and lust
Fall into traps, like mines strategically underground
Step on one, break your mother’s back, holy to you ~ not them.
Go to church on Sunday, play their good game
Cause no rifts, nor trouble, don’t question or blame
Follow the pope, Buddha, follow Christ, follow fame
They don’t care, just play, and appear extremely tame.
Raise no hopes, raise no questions, vote for someone
It doesn’t matter, they’re from the same, there’s no freedom
The banks, the educational system, and then there’s ~ medicare
Look behind the smokescreen, but say, very little, you’re not alone.
©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights reserved…
A Convict on the Loose
By Elton Camp
It was eight o’clock and we’d settled for the night
But little traffic was passing so our street was quiet
One of our favorite movies was just about to begin
When Eye Witness News abruptly came breaking in
“It’s a serious announcement that we interrupt to tell.
A convicted murderer has just broken out from his cell.
He was seen heading for the residential neighborhood,
He has sworn that to escape he’d do anything he could.”
The newsman explained he was dangerous and armed
And that, while escaping, two people he had harmed
“We don’t want too much the public to disconcert,
But everyone should remain cautious and on alert.”
My wife and then exchanged some worried glances
“I’ll check the doors. There’s no use taking chances.”
The doors were locked and all seemed secure to me
So I walked back to the family room to watch TV
The old movie had just barely gotten underway
When a noise at the door a presence did betray
The unexpected sound made me cringe with fear
After dark, nobody to our house should come near
It’s got to be the evil criminal they warned about.
Of that scary fact, I didn’t have the least doubt
To the door it would be extremely foolish to go
I felt a sense of total terror beginning to grow
I lifted the receiver and quietly dialed 911
“Send a policeman to our house on the run!
It’s just awful how dangerous this is sounding.
As on our back door a vicious man is pounding.”
Very soon, there was a siren and a flashing light
Outside our door we heard yelling and a fight
A bullhorn called, “We have caught the crook.
Now please come on outside and take a look.”
On the ground, hands cuffed behind his back,
Was our next door neighbor, young Joe Black
The man was angrily cursing and having a fit
“To warn of danger I came. This is what I get.”
How disappointed he must have felt,
when the epiphany rushed in like the first salty water
of a tidal wave,
and he knew he loved this one,
that he had found her,
the one,
that chosen girl,
but his thick,
black velvet cocoon,
marked Damaged,
was the stopsign,
that red lollypop of a signal,
raised up like a snarling serpent,
tearing up dersire like a paper shredder.
How disappointed he must have felt,
when he saw her on tv,
that girl,
the one he found and lost in a day,
her rosey cheeked face big as a Montana sky,
when the newsman interviewed her,
asking her opinion on the woman's march.
How disappointed he must have felt
when he turned his back
and collapsed into the structure of his tiny day.
*Image of Paul Simon SNL by Giphy.
Simple Simon
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Woke up fresh as the day began,
Busy cooking, his wife named Anne,
Made his breakfast in a saucepan,
Enjoyed eating his plate of flan,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Filled with it and a bit more than,
Kissed his wife as the best he can,
Came a knock was cousin Tristan,
Kissed her again before he ran,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Walking with his fellow kinsman,
Who was a bit like a Tarzan,
He says, "We'll do as we did plan",
Simon says, "Yes, buy us a van",
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
His cousin be an anchorman,
Does things like some sort of game plan,
Says he will talk to the salesman,
Interviews him like a newsman,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Let him run the show as one-man,
Naught be a common businessman,
Just glad to be a middleman,
As Tristan drew the masterplan
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Waiting ate a bowl of pecan,
Tossed all the shells in a trash can,
Tristan smiled, "Got the minivan",
"And at a price that cost less than",
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Twas showroom new, in black and tan,
Best terms on the installment plan,
Signed, gift his full attention span,
While at the station, thanked Tristan,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Drove on home to show his wife Anne,
Who had a guest her friend, Roxanne,
Amused they were with the new van,
The cost, the look, in black and tan,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Took wife Anne and her friend Roxanne,
Proud just been a little more than,
Wide-eyed no call by the sandman,
Off from work with Anne and their van,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman.
2020 March 03
*HM*
STRAND CHOICE C,any form,any theme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 March 11
Should Remember Walter Cronkite
By Franklin Price
12/3/2016
Should remember Walter Cronkite
Most trusted newsman in the land
He told us what was happening
To help determine where to stand
Reported what was happening
Embellishment was not his thing
Reported, did not make the news
By adding his own flash and bling
I'm sure there is a lesson here
For modern media to adhere
Report the news, don't make the news
I hope I've made this message clear
I thought we had a few of them
'Til this election came along
All the newsmen reporting there
Took sides, which was so very wrong
Reporting news no easy job
Research, confirm, and then report
Don't want to hear what you believe
Not a personalized retort
To regain your reputation
At least the one you have with me
Make an effort to be the man
That Walter Cronkite used to be
If you could only do that now
Your reputation you could save
Or maybe Walter Cronkite took
This type reporting to his grave
“Hit me, hit, me, hit me, pass…
One can loose money with poker fast!”
Skipping in line, the skipper plead,
“Move aside; let me pass ahead.”
The diner said, “I am not crass.
Cabbage gives me gas…I’ll pass.”
“Driving a car can be a blast!
But please be careful when you pass.”
The student took the test, then, prayed,
“I crammed all night, help me pass this grade.”
The patient told the nurse with a shout.
“The sight of blood makes me pass out!”
He was not trying to pass the buck.
That he could blame her was his good luck.
The newsman spoke as he entered free,
“Here’s my press pass for all to see!
Hurriedly the judge said, “Let me through.
The beauty contestants will pass in review.”
A sinner at the heaven’s gates sassed,
I paid my tithe, why won’t you let me pass?”
There is one thing I want to say,
Laugh about passing then, have a good day.
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
September 26, 2010