Best Newspapers Poems

They are on the verge of extinction
Now in reading them there is no fun
Electronic media rendered them redundant
Yellow journalism made them defunct
Like a beggar they hanker after ad
Their glamour of late has begun to fade
Editors now grope for thrilling news
And fill-up columns with their own...

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Printed
propaganda
with a political
program marketable to the
public....

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Newspapers 
 
 I read a few people read the newspaper anymore
I have in the shed the English written publication going back
twenty years also have some copies of the Guardian
which no longer sell their broadsheet abroad.
Regarding the local newspaper that first was run by a...

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Let me ask you, how does the poem change
when "dog" is addressed in the female gender?


              come now little "....."

            ...

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Newspapers Are So Last Century

By Elton Camp

You still get a paper a young man sneered
Obviously thinking that I was quite weird

He thought that getting the news online
Should, for me, be just perfectly fine

While I am in the process of transition,
I still see need to take...

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    Newspapers can be logs for the fire
        or non-functional rolling pins

    Obsolete as white-stockinged town criers
        along with typewriters ~ has-beens
...

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Love was standing 
On a street corner
Near this 
News paper stand
Eating a 
Cherry Popsicle...

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When I’m away The New York Times
Gets piled beside my door. 
(For longer trips, I hang a bag
To keep them off the floor.)

I read them all when I get back,
In order that they came,
Enjoying news that’s “old;” at least,
That’s what some people claim.

I likely know...

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come now little dog

                                 stop shaking

       ...

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The world revolves these days with strife:
War rears ugly as harsh threats shout;
Terror involves sad loss of lives;
What a pity the down and out.


Brisk tabloid sales paint grim and mad;
Here and somewhere, man devours man;
Killing makes pale reason turned bad;
Then here and there, murder attends.


Newspapers...

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We get to see you rise, step on the cold floor
When the clock strikes five in the dark.
Your cell goes gaga over nothing, you lie
next to our lot, begging attention.

When the lily in your garden and the mynah 
Over the sill shows up, your sleep...

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Dogpatch
Daisy Mae
Little Abner
T. Cornpone USA
Al Capp...

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In the past, people trusted the press.
For the press had a certain noblesse.
But today, I would say,
trust has withered away —
we are now very hard to imPRESS....

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I once wrote Op-Eds for a regional daily paper
Until the new publisher thought me too liberal
He preferred to publish a sensational caper
Than alternative views, well-expressed, literal,
God forbid the public be encouraged to think
Or have the opportunity to read opposing views,
Which is primarily why many local...

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The Future of a Pixilated Past
David J Walker

I see you in every page
Of the archived newspaper 
That survived to tell our stories again
When the day and date is alive 

and I look forward to
Greeting you revived 
at a different stage of
The kaleidoscope ride that
Stops only...

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