Long Broadcast Poems
Long Broadcast Poems. Below are the most popular long Broadcast by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Broadcast poems by poem length and keyword.
I can still feel the weight of the heat colliding with my face as I first stepped off the plane,
And how beads of sweat would tickle my neck the same as when it rained,
How the harsh odor of the atmosphere would nauseate my nose,
And the courage of a people despite our impose,
I hear the splashing of the Tigris as I kneel to rinse my hands,
And how it felt to think that nothing’s promised, even on promised lands,
From wailing sirens and the buzz of the Phalanx at night,
To the popping of shots and the whooshing of helos in flight,
From the honking of horns and roads without lanes,
To swishing through traffic and the jingling of chains,
I hear the whispers of prayer being broadcast through the air,
And the murmurs of locals and their unwelcomed stares,
To the thuds of percussions from bombs in my chest,
Detonated afar but still rattled my vest,
But of all that I remember, I’m fully aware,
That I've left a piece of me there.
Who knew shredded paper...
alias confetti could be so much fun?
The misses took play therapy (hive
urgently got to tell thee)
to whole nother level,
she smartly, expertly,
deftly... didst contrive
at my expense - (to late),
when paramedics did arrive
abusive deadly torture,
I did not survive,
when she (Frau Abby) five
feet tall minus one inch
lobbed bajillion pounds
(analogous to many
a swarming beehive),
no matter I took strategic dive
buried yours truly alive
moments before perishing,
heard her banshee
cackling, hooting, kickstarting...
dancing spot on jive,
nonetheless mere seconds
before my demise did arrive
manage to scrawl illegible
plea broadcast across
icloud expansive ethereal
euphemistic hard drive
though unsure if
timely help will arrive
to resuscitate and revive
praying immediate por favor
very limited options more
or less absolute zero before
death be not proud doth score,
sad fate, I cannot ignore
salvation amidst desperation
doth tide dully shore
bolster faith no more
toward humanity - generally a bore,
maybe comeuppance,... thus I deplore,
premature demise grim reaper doth adore
yet perchance bottled message
throughout cyber sea reaches poor
or fabled lands i.e.
Zanzibar, Timbuktu, Bangalore...,
no especial rhyme nor
reason zee afore
saith place names mentioned
except they came to fore
front of noggin of this schnorrer
realizing United States marine corps
may also beg tubby enlisted,
viz search and rescue operations
even intervention papal monsignor
please communicate asap with pope,
now I bid thee good bye bonjour
beetle browed troubadour.
Moss Cowed Covenant I Keep Putin Off...
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how
Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled
courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
See it came one night
He his woman friend, me my woman friend were out dancing. Dinner fine food. We were waiting for the call, we knew the deal was made, the details finalized. See those who had been loyal to both sides had been sain to be in great to good positioning. I was tryna stop cussing cause everything I was doing was working for everybody but me I broke up with someone who wanted a superhero, when I hooked up with " this thang here" I was struggling, lossed, confused" She stood by me like sum real romantic suppa trick. I love woman and she was the kind at the top of the line. Ain't have to say sumthangs to interrupt, just there and appreciated. News came right we at the club. Dude white with a tan, me black and pale, latino sexy came in pink lip punk, was to tell us by midnight to get the club crunked-up. But this but this cheap hussy liking malo, got lucky and was seconds from being on thyme. See it was 11:49 and I had been told to seat where the font camera was with Hootchie and wait for the live broadcast. Dude came up in here, like some first piece getting mark. And edged the time so close that the live feed camera guy thought we'd miss que. We got that chump straight with some fysta means. We like him but if it ain't focus to clear it, well it ain't no show. We filmed him in his boxers cause we grabbed him when he was nasty with the longate-llayibo. When they crowned me champ, I celebrated like any normal man. Kiss the woman, was slapped on my ass, and then came the hurt!
Dim pink lights blossom in the air
A rat trapped plotted wisely to attract lover
I was sitting just below the full moon
Not for trapped but for consideration.
They were engaged deeply
So brain couldn't think rationally
Questions questions questions they asked
To make a foolproof colony on the Mars.
We designed a radiation free cell to live
A lab to research, solar plates to illuminate
A piece of landscape to cultivate
But it was not sufficient to live on the Mars.
We're very close to produce water
With slight change in the wind mill
Nitrogen chilled it's feathers can condense
. 02 water vapour of the air on the Mars.
In crystal blue sky
Our desires got feathers to fly
Someone was planning to live on the Mars
Other one was ready to broadcast his task.
But previous night episode
Distracted completely me to think more
I couldn't respond them
What does Mars need to live more.
Akin to a journalist (hoofing
NOT huffing on the beat)
heedful, mindful, and pain fully aware, bleat
me, asper caveats help me set sights
tacking within parameters of lawfulness,
when questing without sparking browbeat
upon my person, or worse...proceeding toward
said abstract destination until...
impossible mission complete
for verity from figurative horse's
mouth without defeat
dogging this astute brute, destitute, flute glute
hirste human institute irresolute
kickstarting little feet
essentially persevering acquiring,
amassing, and adducing
for instance enlightening
fierce interest how greet
American foreign policy
provokes bristling heat
particularly sinking cerebral teeth
into tomes written by Jeffrey Sachs
(one of the world's leading experts on
economic development,
and the fight against poverty) racks
up with unassuming dignity, grace, integrity,
and prestige in my book -
for birds that quacks
without question, his expertise packs
a punch (Judy be careful),
he earns accolade to the max
factor, and rightly so, asper one of the world's
leading experts on economic development, and lax
global fight against poverty,
yet also in mine reading material canon includes:
TIME Magazine, The Nation, and now imagine klax
on (trumpeting) for Mother Jones, a six month
subscription bringing to alight me to do jumping jacks
(no doubt you remember those vigorous movements),
but tactics to expand learning I put in Italics
if only to maintain alternate rhyming pattern,
which tenebrous, superfluous,
and ridiculous poetic hacks
meant add a little playfulness,
solely intending to bloom forth
with illusory "NOT FAKE) flax
seeding, an ongoing inquisitiveness maybe last
ting influence to ferret out
off the beaten track less broadcast
revelations, since this apt cast
off firmly believes the educated people denied
knowing how government (namely
military industrial complex) past
(and of course present) involvement blast
ting away innocent lives, and/or funding
subversive activity most likely fast
intervening across the real world wide web
to coerce, force, and source vast
suppression jeopardizing United States economy.
It's seven weeks now into my recovery,
too much couch time and lots of tv..
I stopped my subscription to CNN, no longer
in need of a biased news trend..
My local news channels have kept me in touch,
with the weather, crimes, and opiates too much..
I discovered the World Channel is just what I need,
a global perspective with the most balanced feed..
Penn State offers this broadcast for free and it
comes with wonderful educational documentaries to see..
I love learning about people and cultures I'll never see, on
our wonderful planet with such diversity.
Their journeys, their struggles, their resiliency,
restores my faith in humanity..
Mental manipulation,
Spreading the nation,
Broadcast on every station,
Here is a free phone,
Just for the occasion.
It's an invasion,
It's their way in,
Getting under your skin.
Planting information,
A visual manipulation,
Linking the whole nation.
Feeding the brain,
Fear, anger, and pain,
Your thoughts follow,
As they create the domain.
Training you to think,
Not caring if you sink,
Keeping you weak,
Feeding you Lies,
Building walls so no one tries,
To improvise and realize,
There's nothing to climb.
The phone chimes in.
Creating a distraction,
An energy interaction,
Giving a sense of satisfaction.
There is no need to take action,
We sit and watch it happen.
Enticed to tune in,
Amazed by the destruction,
Fears favorite function,
As adds and agendas slip in.
Blasted on every station,
All across the nation,
They build the manifestation.
Holding our focus and attention,
In the intended direction,
Lessening the impact you have in...
The phone chimes in again,
Your phone rings again,
OOOHH!! a notification,
I wonder what came in,
Wait!
There's that game I was playin.
Why was I on here again?
Life goes full circle Harry Finnegan thought,
Admiring his newly refurbished vending cart;
Spick and span with racy lines, a proper seat,
Digital till, weatherproofed, and state of the art
Men lean street ready selling machine.
And here I am back in the old game,
So much changed so that only
Me and the nag are the same.
Finnegan’s horse stifled a chortle.
Old Harry didn’t know of course
But standing between those shafts
Was a veritable living Bionic Horse,
From the communications point,
With video cams and blue tooth sets,
Fully primed and satellite linked
To all the local police comms net.
They would always know his position
Within a radius of ten point four feet
On demand any time of day or night
And every bit so wonderfully neat.
And to ease the boredom
If trade was slow and idle
He’d got radio one
Broadcast through his bridle.
Let’s get on the road
It’s nearly time
To continue the fight
Against rising crime.
Would their cunning plan still work?
It was after all a whole year
Since Harry’s last rode his round;
The police needn’t have had any fear
At every corner there were lines
And very excited citizens queues
All there to say hello
Excited by the news
That Yoghurt and Milk were back
And Harry Finnegan rode again.
Tears could be seen in the eyes
Of even the hardest of the men:
And the police looked forward
To some well paid overtime
In their hi tech venture against
That local petty crime.
And all loved Old Harry and his horse
Though not in any carnal way, of course
Orson Welles did an adaptation of "The War of the Worlds"
book written by HG Wells, on Halloween Night Oct 30,1938.
It aired over the Columbia Broadcasting System radio network.
Directed by actor and future filmmaker Orson Wells. It was an
American radio drama through the Mercury Theatre on the Air.
It was a news bulletin for the first 40 minutes suggesting an
Alien Invasion, by Martians. Causing real mass panic through
out some areas that people were listening. The listening audience
thought it was real, when it was not.
________________________________________________________________________
A farmer and his wife listening to the Broadcast.
"All my God Phyllis grab the shotgun
and make sure it's loaded!"
"The Martians, the Star People, their
craft has crashed and exploded!!"
"I think I saw one out there in the
dark!!"
"For heaven sake Carl, lets hurry
and get in the car!!"
"I'm not going out there forget the
car!!"
"They have Ray guns hon, we
wouldn't make it so far!!"
"I'm so scared Carl you think they
will hurt us!?"
"I don't know Phyllis, it's in God
we trust."
" I heard noises coming from the
roof!"
"Oh my God Carl, what are you
going to do?"
"If I see one I am shooting to kill!"
"Stay here Phyllis and sit still!"
"Your going to leave me here by
myself, no Carl stay inside!?"
"I have to go and shoot that alien
Phyllis, right between the eyes!!"
Carl ran out the door and much to
to his surprise.
Up on the roof there was a Raccoon,
with big eyes.
Carl now realized what he had
seen.
Embarrassed to tell his wife Phyllis,
he smiles, still scared, but with a grin.
Just then over the Radio Phyllis
hears.
"This is not a real event, were sorry for
bringing so much fear."
Phyllis grabbed the radio after
hearing the news.
In front of Carl she smashed the
Radio in two!!!!
_____________________________________________________________________
Through out the Country
people were terrorized.
Those Star People had
made an impact!