Long Newscaster Poems
Long Newscaster Poems. Below are the most popular long Newscaster by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Newscaster poems by poem length and keyword.
Everything you see is fashion
From just simple tattered dress
A carpenter hammering a nail
A boy riding a bicycle
A lady poses for a selfie
Throng of people walking the street
A taho vendor in the sidewalk
An office lady typing on her computer
A simple bartender mixing wine
A cook cooking in a simple kitchenette
A construction worker hauling debris
Those passengers lining waiting for a bus
A painter painting sunset at the bay
A mother breastfeeding a baby
A cow eating grass in the field
A bee hopping in every flower sipping for nectar
The busy street like Binondo during Sunday
The passing of the Comulus clouds
The scattered leaves on the backyard
The birds plucking dried grass for a nest
The ads on tv commercial and billboards
Those ramp model ramping on a stage
A newscaster casting the news on tv
Two person playing chess religiously
People in political rallying on the streets
People praying inside the church
A family eating their lunch on a buffet resto
Two people walking hand in hand
Everything that is not moving and moving
It's all fashion for me.
The asphalt driveway is blackened over by rain
sand bags lie in the corner of the garage in case water creeps in, some sheep scurry in distant fields
Your elephant eyes are locked on the TV; 55 inches of electronic love
I liked lying under the moonlight on summer nights as moths danced towards the patio light I remind myself in melancholy moods, child please don’t cry, every season changes
Your vehicle’s mileage spans out to El Dorado’s grave and back
The snares of your life keep drumming it’s slower now, consistent patters; the TV is staring back at you copper pennies lie in wait beside your remote control, everything has a place with you
If I could tie a rope around your Will I would direct it towards my family, we are hopeful you will see us, and remember tossing your children in the air, serving crepes every Christmas morning and the brick house you lived in with your wife for more than two decades, a pool of tumbling memories without all the injures, it is ok to feel free, to be a part of a living zoo
thunder rumbles past our yellow one-story apartment, somewhere swans sleep unaware of rain
swaying slowly when you stand, I’m starting to realize God balances us all out
cement like air fills my lungs as the newscaster gets soaked by yet another wave
staring blankly, you blink at the angel food cake on the counter and shuffle on, towards the Rio Grande
bones of drowned years clamber past Nevada, Arizona, all the tumble weed states
falling forward we catch ourselves each day, we shade our eyes from the glaring sun, as the dust gathers below the Grand Canyon
you shuffle in and switch the channel, the trumpets settle in my heart as you ask, how did it go today?
At around a quarter passed 6AM from the 2nd floor window,
I inhaled a most lovely view. So, I had to exhale and share with you.
My eyes beheld the canopy of blue so clear, pristine, and free of all clouds.
All around, I was enraptured with a view of trees as far as I could see.
Just inside the border of green trees was a rail line and also highway 49.
As I took in this spacious panorama of quiet and tranquility, with poise, I paused. It was a beautiful fence of green, a natural encasement planted by the hand of God. Inside that picturesque blue and green were crop-lands of brown, drying from multiple rains. These fields of future grains of beans and corn lie still, fixed in time, awaiting their turn, as at times, we must.
On an electric line, there sits a black bird that I often see who seems to lite there so faithfully. Breath in this scene
my friends and salivate these moments with me.
As an old TV host used to say to your kids and mine, "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood". And as a great newscaster said every night as he signed off, "That's the way it is.....". I hope things are well in your neighborhood, and I pray that things go well for you today. I just wanted to let you know before I go. In my neighborhood, 'That's the way it is on Wednesday,
04/27/22, at 6:57AM.
042622PSCtest, A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
How steep is the slope in front of you
that you see it practically impossible to climb?
How wide is this Ocean
which seem insane to cross over?
Brace up, put your mind together
and just imagine the snow falls in June
and Flowers grow black petals.
Imagine Togo experiences Winter
and Red + Yellow gives white.
Imagine a huge Maize Tree
and a tuber of fresh green Apples.
Imagine Pigs with long wings
and a flock of Goats happily swimming.
Imagine standing under the rain
and not getting wet
Imagine hair grows on the palm
and a Cow walking on its Horn
Imagine February having 31 days
and December, just 28.
Imagine cartoon characters becoming real
and rolling 13 in two 6-sided dice.
Imagine the birth of a fluent German speaking Newborn
to an Arab Mum
after just 10 weeks of gestation.
And a 100km bridge, built with rubber
Imagine an innocent virgin
becoming pregnant with Triplets.
who created the new lives through the internet.
Imagine a Man, getting younger with age
and the cat and mouse peacefully coexisting.
Imagine fire, drying out water when they meet
and pepper becoming sweet while glucose becoming bitter.
Imagine the scent of a perfume smelling from a picture
and a Chest X-ray photo showing the intent of the Heart.
Imagine the best newscaster
as a bad stammerer
and the fastest runner
without Limbs.
Imagine the blind from birth
who's able to differentiate between Colours
and a retrograde existence
where Life starts after Death.
Imagine a Dog as the Master
and man as its pet
or a Camel,
passing through the eye of a needle.
Though impossible,
all can be pictured in the mind
which is the starting point of actualizing all forms of reality.
Since 'never' never exists
and St. Never's day isn't imaginable
your huddle then becomes a mere challenge
and in no time, you'll be at the top of the cliff
as you look down, smile and say
"Difficulty isn't impossibility"
Freudian Slip --- Insight of Lip --- Dane Ann
Gravestone ---Heart- Mark ---Dane Ann
Gall --- Vexing Vixen --- Dane Ann
Happiness --- Bounteous Bliss ---Dane Ann
Hog Sty --- Power Pen --- Dane Ann
Indigent --- Penniless Pauper --- Dane Ann
Insistent --- Relentless Nagging ---Dane Ann
Jerring ---Heartless Heckler --- Dane Ann
Jovial --- Cheery Chirping --- Dane Ann
Sports Nuts --- Crunchy Food, Poetic Mood For All to Read --- Linda-Marie Bariana
Good Vibrations --- Ghostly Groove --- Catie Lindsey
Last Will and Testament --- Dead Bread ---Catie Lindsey
Fine Wine and Spirits --- Wink and Drink ---Catie Lindsey
Agreement --- Words Concurred --- Dane Ann
Argument --- Quite Quarrel --- Dane Ann
Banter --- Chat Wit --- Dane Ann
Care --- Need Heed --- Dane Ann
Conscience --- Scruple Snooper --- Dane Ann
Detective --- Fact Grinder --- Dane Ann
Ducking --- Waddle Quacking --- Dane Ann
Emotional --- Frazzle Dazzled --- Dane Ann
Ship Mate --- Toy Boat --- HG
Gravestone --- Dead Cert. --- Sean Kelly
Broadcaster --- American Female Newscaster --- Sean Kelly
Cold War --- Battle Against Swine Flu ---Sean Kelly
Silicon Valley --- Cleavage, After Breast Enhancement --- Sean Kelly
Hebrew --- Jewish Tea For Men Only --- Sean Kelly
The setting sun weaves a poem,
blossoming
unsung trochaic along the river basin
(Nurulhuda Junction. Teesta)
Sometimes it feels quite an estranged thought to realise that living is a mundane day to day thing to sustain. The welfare causes are demanding all those intricate , subtle personal delicate feelings, into a powermonger possessive expositional ownership, for no good understood parameter.
The book was well versed. Muzzammil was lying on his bed, half awakened. He took his glass pairs off. A pair of opaque spectacles, with the littlemost effort, both the bifocal parts are often sweaty. He was waiting for his wife’s special morning tea, everyday. Remote area in the suburban side, every day newscaster is often quote a belated story there.
December, 2025
A Life Hit
ThIt was a life hit,
A one after the other:
For first, there was the coma,
And just the idea of it
To struggle with, but then,
Afterwards my eyesight smudged
Spaces, altered them, imposed
Textures, shapes and colors.
This was diagnosed
(A complication from my coma)
As Charles Bonnet syndrome.
Hmmm...
Tough call for an artist —
Already dealing with proliferative
retinopathy, and its dozen laser
eye treatments nearly destroying
all peripheral vision —
Poor fellow, Charles,
Having such a legacy, a hard hit;
It challenged me to need
To learn to draw all over again,
Like a child turning the pages
Of instruction books.
When
I drew portraits, I’d put in three
Eyes and not see it until told.
Actually
There came quite much laughing
At the perceptions from the hit,
Which involve voids in vision —
Something the brain will not
Accept and so it fills in, often
Humorously (I’d say) —
Hmmm...
Funny brain. I’ll never forget
One day, re-learning to draw dogs
And after staring at photos
Of pups for more than an hour,
How I looked up from my sketches
To watch the news,
Only to see every newscaster
And interviewed expert now
Had a long, hairy muzzle
And floppy ears.
Hmmm...
Finally a life hit
That could go with a bucket of
buttered popcorn.
————————————————————-
(c) sally young Eslinger 5/2021
Thanks be to God
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clutching at my dampened sheet,
staring up at alabaster,
I hear voices from the street,
I see faces in the plaster
Oscillating fans repeat
phrases set to fast or faster
My TV transmits discreet
messages through one newscaster
As I do the wash again,
I can faintly hear a choir
singing in the final spin
One word cycles from the dryer
Taking note at breakfast when
eggs act as a clarifier
for the face of Christ therein,
I consume my edifier!
I'm aware I recognize
traits that I, myself, have got
- noises, noses, voices, eyes -
whether they are there or not
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is Bart J. Connell from Channel KVIT NEWS RADIO
Here is the forecast today over in KoKoMo.
It will be raining cats and tigers out of the north.
You might also expect some dog hail and so forth.
I blink my eyes and look at my clock radio.
What is it saying? What about KoKoMo?
Can you repeat that? I ask, hearing just the last part.
Will be raining acorns from the east, said newscaster Bart.
Raining acorns, cats and tigers too? Dog hail? What should I do?
I get dressed quickly, and hunt diligently for my left shoe.
My dog has gotten ahold of it and given it a thorough chew.
There is nothing left of it, which makes me rather blue.
As I get into my car there is a loud plunk on the hood.
I think it must be hail which was as loud as it was good.
But no it is an acorn, and not just one; they come down hard.
They break my windshield which really irritates this bard.
Acorns are pelting me in the head as I head toward the house.
I call that news station and ask to talk to Bart, the louse.
How dare you say it would be raining acorns from the east.
It is hailing acorns here, you lying stupid beast!
Feel lucky, he tells me. The north is having a tiger rain.
They come down and eat people; and that is such a pain.
The cats are running wild, and there is dog hail also.
So when you are driving, I would steer south of KoKoMo.
This was written for sheer fun, months ago!
I did not have the courage to post it then,,,
But I do now…Hope you enjoy this fantasy!
9/30/2023
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I want Rob Schmitt to rub my feet.
I could take care of him, alright.
He’d scream with pleasure in silver starlight.
If I should die, with a smile, before I wake.
Know,he was more delicious than strawberry cake!
Bury me please, next to Johnnie Walker.
He was always with me, such a sexy stalker.
Red, hot and rolling, stud Johnny was he.
I’m truly fed up, with writing about pine trees!!
Prefer a young dude to have a last tango with,
Oh, if only…it would be my heavenly,Rob Schmitt!
*****Rob Schmitt is a newscaster on.Newsmax.com.
Available on PC, iPad or any cellphone.24/7****