Alberto Nisman didn't know the danger he would enter
when he looked into the bombing of a Jewish center
He said president Christina was hiding the truth
he had the goods, would soon show the proof.
He was supposed to appear in Congress, but hours before
Somehow hitmen got by his door
He knew too much, so bad guys moved fast
If you let on what you know, next moment might be last.
Veronica Guerin reported on the Dublin crime scene
They had to kill her before the big clean.
She stopped at a traffic light, two bikers drew nigh
She knew she'd be shot, she knew she would die
She asked them not to shoot her in the face
So they shot her in some other place.
Jack knew secrets, but the mob didn't want death yet
So they punished him whenever he seemed a threat
He walked among you, but you could not see
The overarching underworld reality.
So beware the secrets that you've found,
Even heroes may not leave the battleground.
For truth’s a boomerang—when it comes back around,
Your message may die with you, six feet underground.
Categories:
journalists, betrayal, courage, death, evil,
Form: Lyric
When exposing a crime,
is treated as committing a crime,
one thing is self evident in general.
You are being ruled by criminals.
Categories:
journalists, corruption,
Form: Rhyme
Walking here and there,
Scrounging for messages of Care,
Journalists of the day.
Standing by at door or gate
Spirited, to interrogate the great.
A long-serving microphone,
Miking words from those interviewed,
And an esteemed bagged camcorder on the shoulder;
Always await eventual days
So they’d pace with grace
But, their presentations tremble under status’ feet
Whereto their integrity doth greet.
Their job hence counts slackness of Justice:
That if they are to question a poor fellow,
They’ll do it diligently till he’s zero
But if they are to question a rich man,
Minister or president in particular,
The ‘eye-box’ is covered with red cloth,
Their journals closed,
And their inkers halt;
They’ll compromise till he’s out of any cases.
Sorry
They are!
Turning a blind eye to the rich’s injustices
And giving a bright eye to the poor’s…
Yellow Journalism eke in Africa?
Categories:
journalists, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme
“Sorry, I’m not reconsidering Lucifer’s expulsion.
I’d had him kicked out with obvious revulsion,
The entire saga wearing My Divine Compulsion”
While still felt by My Angels The Celestial Convulsion!
And that was the much God had for The Journalist
For every snatched story daring some twists
And sometimes from their live interviews
Hatching a few more with sleazy reviews …
Thus, from God, it was ‘A No-No-No!’
To all The Jotters with Pens ‘A Go-Go-Go!’
“Please, not on this sensitive subject
You all have your silly object”
God – Really, quite A Government Official
About his tours officially unofficial,
Now, sensibly showcasing a Man
Out to disappoint The Camera Man …
I agree with God: Lousy Men of Press,
Who long to every secrecy address,
Yet knew this had to do with His Stool
And Eyeing Lucifer’s role of a Wise Fool …
Categories:
journalists, allah, analogy, creation, evil,
Form: Rhyme
We're the watchdogs of the government
The voice to the voiceless
The hope to the hopeless
The way to your salvation
The path to your righteousness
The key to your pathway
We're journalists!
We keep you entertain
We communicate to the president the people's plight
We investigate the activities of corrupt leaders and make it known..
We risked our lives in the war front to cover stories
We don't collect gratification
One microphone changes the heterogeneous dispersed audiences view
We're journalists!
We make known the unknown
We visualised for your eyes to see
So many work behind the camera we actualised
We give justice to the unjust
We avoid segregation
We give orientation
We make many fame
Their names heard beyond the universe
Our content is a guide for all to follow
We solve the unsolved
We're wide!
We breached the language barrier
We make complex words simple for the layman
We provide platforms for your potential
You just imagine a world without communication Radio television and social media... You just imagine
Categories:
journalists, imagination,
Form: Free verse
And through that door is the morgue
The editor said, motioning toward
an unassuming, flat-black, painted door
“Do you want to see it?”
The wanna-be journalists from high school
Began shaking their heads ‘no’.
Categories:
journalists, fun, hilarious, humorous,
Form: Light Verse