Long Newspapers Poems
Long Newspapers Poems. Below are the most popular long Newspapers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Newspapers poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
The day Mitchell Malden became a hero
he had only meant to go for a drink,
paced slowly into Slimbed’s only saloon,
where he noticed an unpleasant stink.
He saw Delaney Hannigan at cards
and figured that explained the bad smell,
that rustler spent his days out in the bush,
scum like him never did come off well.
He only came to town to spend stolen loot,
and for some reason the man liked to play,
Mitch himself could not understand why,
the fool just lost all his cash in the games.
So Mitch ignored him, enjoyed his drink,
tasted fine after a day running cows,
then came a loud roar, and angry howl:
“You damned cheats, throw those guns down right now!”
The poker table then crashed, upended,
Mitch look back, saw Delaney with a gun,
“I’m tired of this bar stealing my coin,
so y’all put your hands up, everyone!”
For a moment nobody dared a move,
Al knew Delany was the type to kill,
Nobody else had a pistol drawn
So they coolly acquiesced to his will.
Delaney stalked closer, saw Mitch’s old colt,
said,”Listen close and you’ll suffer no harm.
You take that iron out of that gunbelt
and you lay it down real nice on the bar.”
Mitchel did what the bandit desired,
there was no other way he could figure,
but Mitch’s hand shook, and when he put it down
his finger brushed back against the trigger.
The gun fired as it touched the bar-top,
the slug pierced Delaney’s big forehead,
he pitched backwards, the folks looking on,
when he hit the ground he was stone dead.
A moment of stunned silence fell on them,
then came a storn of folk shaking his hand.
“Making that cool think you would go alone…
Now that there’s the play of a clever man!”
Mitch was stunned, but he said not a word,
just let the procession bring him to the street,
soon all of the town knew of his brave deed
and heralded this heroic feet.
The newspapers even picked up the tale,
earning Mitch a good measure of fame,
soon enough he found himself the mayor,
and got a pretty girl to take his name.
All though he was the smartest gunfighter,
and all his life he was a sensation,
the bar where this happened still stands today,
visited by folk across the whole nation.
It’s only I, his great-great-great grandson,
who knows the truth of what happened back then,
but who am I to tell it like it was
when everybody does so love the legend?
we're all natural born watchers just looking around
at the TV, the Internet and newspapers all over town
be it something or somebody we usually just watch and wait
to look up to anything that may reinforce our faith
be it something constructive or counterproductive
to watch what others do and then try to imitate
to look at success and then try to emulate
the Wise Men, the Magi were 3 men you should look upon
for they knew to follow that star which was on the horizon
yet King Herod who was the ruler of that little town
could not spiritually ascertain what was really going down
he had heard that the nation of Israel would have a new born king
and then he became paranoid and anxious over everything
he was under the impression that God would have told him first
of the Saving Son who was about to appear on earth
God did a new thing in a completely new way
but many missed the true meaning of the birth that day
but the Magi those 3 Wise Men were in step with God
they were spiritually aware of what was about to start
it's not about man's logic, rationale nor reason
for God is the omnipotent One for all seasons
don't let anyone try to diminish the awesomeness of God's might
don't let anyone try to dim the brilliance that is His guiding light
making it great in 2008 by watching what wise men do
making it great in 2008 by believing that God is watching over you
to be struck by the mystery that is God's power
to believe that He is with you at any given hour
to follow that star whenever you hear the angels sings
to trust that God will guide you in everything
there's no need to fear the unknown or what's down the road
just watch what wise men do when they give God total control
by following a star which led them to a child born in a manger
and not to reveal what they found for to tell would have brought danger
and after presenting the gifts and thus fulfilling the prophecy
they left Bethlehem by another way and continued their journey
when God gives a revelation and then tells you to get up and leave
let no one stop nor hinder you from doing what you believe
don't ever put reason before revelation as reason will only go so far
for revelation is the exclamation that will reveal to you a star
so making it great in 2008 by watching what wise men do
and by following that star wherever it leads you to
It's not hard to see or tell this world of ours
Isn't the same as it used to be. Granted, it has
Never been perfect, but I've seen better days
I've become numb to a cavalcade of bad news
That saturate the television, social media
The radio, the newspapers.
I see our world changing with my own eyes
Every day, and not for the better. Sometimes I feel
As if I'm dreaming, but it's not a dream. It's reality
It's like I went to sleep one fine day, and woke up
To a world gone mad. A world, like crumbs
Falling off bread being sliced
What happened to the state of civility? What happened
To the nature of our social fabric? What is happening
To our country?
I'm so sick of Liar-In-Chief Donald Trump spewing
Hundreds of lies every day, further breaking
His unbreakable record of falsehoods. But why stop there?
Since his presidency, racism, xenophobia
Fear-mongering, corruption, foreign and domestic
Terrorism all surged exponentially
Under his watch, police brutality is at an all-time high
What is the world coming to when our "President"
Sides with foreign cold-blooded dictators
Over America's intelligence agencies?
What is wrong with that picture? This nation, this world
We're living in just isn't the same as it used to be
More and more African-Americans are ending up
Dead at the hands of trigger-happy police officers
More and more celebrities are falling from grace
Many emerging as sexual predators since
The inception of the "MeToo Movement"
Oh, and let's not forget about the Catholic priests!
The never-ending wars in Iraq and Afghanistan
Continue to claim the lives of American soldiers
Needlessly. When will our heroes finally come home?
What happened to the political climate?
It has grown so toxic. Washington politicians
Are failing to do the job the American people
Elected them to do.
The GOP has become the party of Trump
A so-called leader who stays up all night
Tweeting more nonsensical lies, who continually fan
The flames of division, continually assault
Freedom of the press, calling a legitimate investigation
Of Russia's meddling in America's election process
A "Hoax" and "Witch Hunt." But we all know better, don't we?
I wish I could go back to sleep and wake up
To the way the world used to be...
Poem Of The Day on 12/03/2018
During the time before television came to our home, My dad sat there in his car on many a dark Southern night. And I was somewhere close by, enjoying a wonderful
game of Major League Baseball on the radio.
O, there were several teams in the majors like The Pirates,
The White Socks and The Red Socks were popular
teams. But in my town in Northern Mississippi, baseball was all about the Cardinals, the Dodgers, and the Yankees.
There were many sights and sounds of baseball beaming from radios and television sets. I must say that I mean no disrespect to other good and decent sportscasters,
but Harry Carry and Pee Wee Reese made us feel like we
were there in the stands.
My dad had lots of friends, but two were rivals in the game.
There was his friend, the Yankee man name Mr. Baines;
And then, Mr. Mon, his other friend, was a Dodger fan.
But my dad’s heart was in St. Louis with Stan the Man.
In the memory of my mind, I can hear those games now on the radio.
Those nights were dark and hot, but the baseball captured and calmed me.
Reading newspapers and enjoying a baseball game on the radio were two
things my dad and I shared together. But also, later on, we obtained a television. With the snapshots tucked away in the frames of my mind, after 50-plus years, I can still see the Baseball Game of the Week.
I'm rather certain that neither my dad nor his two friends ever graced the stadiums of their teams. I'm proud to say that it was through them that I developed a deep love for the game. So, in a way, when I saw two games at Wrigley Field in Chicago, they were there also; or when I enjoyed two games of the Giants at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, they sat right next to me.
They say that baseball is America’s great past time experience;
but for me, baseball was always about ‘now and then’, ‘today, and
‘tomorrow’ too. It was about a little country boy fantasizing
and dreaming today about what could be tomorrow.
Written 042010; Entry122422PS Contest, Matt Caliri, Poetry in Motion
The National Pastime, Phillip Garcia
also: (Screwed XV11 Contest, Rod Carmack; 10th Pl)
I remember Buster outside the old post office.
He was selling newspapers but mostly just giving you a smile.
Ol Felix's tamales
Were the best ones round for miles.
And I got my first bluejeans at Bob Turner's Western Wear.
And I remember that homecoming queen, she never even knew I was there.
And Coach Childress always made me feel
Like I could someday be a man
He is a rock hewn out of granite
Always a helping hand
There wasn't a thing there that I wanted,
Not a thing that I could see,
But every thing I'd ever need in life,
Was right in front of me.
And the place I thought would bring a curse to my future hopes and dreams?
Has only been a blessing, to all my memories.
I can't go home again
I can't go back in time.
But as long as I can still remember,
I can go there in my mind
.
Walking down that dusty Coleman road I sure never thought I'd live to get this old.
Dreams in my head and a pocket full of nothing, 12 and thinking I was grown.
Never dreamed I'd miss the things that made me want to leave.
I blinked once, or maybe twice
Bluecats and Friday nights,
And then time slipped by so suddenly.
One thing is for certain,
I can't go back in time.
But as long as I can remember.
I can still go back there in my mind
.
And even if I wanted to.
I can never go back home.
Because everyone I've ever loved there is long since dead and gone.
There's just no one left to find.
Even tho my memory suffers slippage,
I can still go there in my mind.
.
And it was just the other day
I thought I heard my father call my name.
I'm afraid....
I'll forget how he sounded.
Like tracing shadows in a rain.
It's been so long but now I only hear him in my dreams.
And no matter where I've been,
And no matter where I go.
I can't go home again
It's too late to pay the toll.
Looking backward to my future
I'm running out of time
I close my eyes and dream
And go there in my mind
There wasn't a thing there that I wanted
Not a thing that I could see
But every thing I'd ever need in life
Was right in front of me
And the place I thought would bring a curse to my future hopes and dreams
Has only been a blessing, to all my memories
.
I can't go home again
I can't go back in time
But as long as I can still remember
I can go there in my mind.
Nature nurture
The argument of psychology
yet what made Hitler
become the man
What made Hitler
become the racist
what made Hitler
become the murderer
Millions died
in concentration camps
millions died
on the battlefields of france
Yet What made Hitler?
The Great depression, Germany
the breeding ground of poverty
the struggle to survive
Hitler an orphan
His father died
when Hitler was just thirteen
His mother died
When he became eighteen
money, the inheritance
left behind
used on medical expenses
Poverty the breeding ground of hatred
life became a struggle to survive
days of hunger build hatred
desire
Darwin his theories of evolution
eye's watching the animal kingdom
the strongest do survive
Ideas of science shaped the German thoughts
The concept of the aryan race
came from science
the concept of the perfect race
came from science
Soldier's are taught to kill
Hitler fought in the first world war
taught to take the lives of others
combine the mixing pot of evil
necessity
the mother of invention
to build a better country
ideas grow with the stupidity of man
Marx the father of communism
Jewish newspapers supporting his views
Social Democracy the rising red fist
attempted to force Hitler to join
When he refused
they used violence to force him out of his job
Hit the man and you build hatred
communism attacking his country
Hitler blamed the Jews
Marx was Jewish
Jewish writers supported his views
Hitler blamed the entire race
Racism showed it ugly face
the building blocks of hatred
interwoven with his own
interpretation
Introspection
sometimes we learn
from what we're told
sometimes we create
our own opinions
Nature is genetic
emotional pre-distributions
talent aptitude and health
nurture is environmental
parents strangers friends and foes
yet we also learn from ourselves
introspection belief and denial
I don't like Hitler
I don't like war
but we can all learn
from watching how others develop
poverty is the breeding ground
for hatred
take away the breeding ground
and perhaps we can build a world of love
Behind the war are His thoughts
thoughts shaped by education
thoughts shaped by science
thoughts shaped by racism
Both of their eyes locked hard on one another.
The sheriff needed to talk with this grieving, vengeful brother.
"Have a seat and a drink with me," the sheriff said to him.
"I need to explain to you what actually happened,
but before I reveal anything to you
I need your word that this stays between me and you.
If word of this gets out your brother is as good as dead."
The brother paused for a moment and then he said,
"You killed my brother," he said fighting not to cry.
"No I didn't," responded the sheriff, "He's still alive.
I killed the wrong man and claimed it was him.
Your brother is on the run, but he's still living.
All the residents of Fort Sumner are in compliance with me.
They don't want to see your brother get caught or killed
so they've sworn themselves to secrecy
and have all signed affidavits certifying that the body
buried at Fort Sumner is your brother. Your brother is deceased officially.
This is your brother's last opportunity
to go underground and live his life more meaningfully.
He has agreed to go
to Old Mexico
and leave his beloved country
where he was loved so
by all who would know
the company of he.
Before he left though he gave to me
this letter for his brother Joe to read."
The sheriff handed him the letter, shook his hand and left.
Joe opened the letter and this is what it read.
"My Dear Brother Joe,
I am still alive.
Don't believe everything those newspapers write and contrive.
It's so very difficult to let you all go
but I'm starting my life anew in Old Mexico.
Please know that loving thoughts of you will always be with me.
Forever your brother,
William H Bonney"
The above is a fictional write that I did.
Sheriff Pat Garrett did kill Billy The Kid.
Joseph Antrim was Billy the Kid's brother
and both he and Sheriff Pat Garrett did encounter each other.
When Joseph was approached and asked what Garrett said to him,
Joseph would always simply respond, "He explained to me what happened."
This coming from a man who once lost in his grieving plight
swore that if he ever encountered Sheriff Pat Garrett he would unmercifully kill him on sight,
but who knows, a loud mouth coward may have been Joe,
but I prefer the above pure fictional scenario.
In any event, we'll never know.
Say bye-bye to these:
"Hold, please." (Hold what?)
Typewriter Repairman Ads
"Dial this number..." (What's 'dial?')
Down-time... Offline
Compliments (Complaint Departments have swallowed them up).
"Mail me your resume."
Shame, and its cousin, Guilt
Pay Phones and Phone Booths (Sorry, Superman)
Cash (esp. pennies)
"How do you do?" (How do I what?!)
"Chick," "Piece," "Stacked," "Hot Number"
The Debt Ceiling
Brown Suits
Brown Fedoras
White Bread
White Big-City Mayors (in the USA)
Math Facts
Grammar & Grammar Schools
Heroes
Good Samaritans
Public Drinking Fountains (except for dogs and cats)
All but Mega-Gigantic Hospitals
Modesty
Cash Bail
Drug Busts
'Land Lines'
Gasoline-fueled automobiles
Private Health Insurance
Private Doctors
Free Museums
Disturbing the Peace
Roth IRA's (at least, Roth IRA's whose distributions are tax-free)
Peacetime Economies
Gun Laws (The Wild West roars back)
Non-Mixed Use Zoning Laws
Fair Elections (Did we ever really have them?)
Ideals, Idealists, Idealism
The 'Renaissance Man'
Daily Newspapers, Print AND Digital
The 'Weather Channel'
META
Music Majors, Art Majors, Anthropology & Sociology Majors
Cooperation
Cashiers
Receptionists
Cleaning Services
'Straight People'
Teachers
'The Four Freedoms'
Courts (You'll get a ticket and either pay or go to jail...)
Courtroom Lawyers
'Law and Order' Politicians
Non-TV Ministers
Dentures
Non-union University Personnel
Non-gated upper middle class and upper class housing
Neighborhood Watch Groups
Public Schools
Childhood
Non-government Day Care
Nursery School and Kindergarten
Free Public Libraries (You'll pay for those Drag Shows, lol!)
Free-TV
Non-Tip Services
'The Great American Novel'
The Home of the Brave -- Oops! (I mean, of the 'Guardians!')
'Lesbos' and 'Homos' (Can you believe we used those terms?!)
Marital Sex (What for?)
Foreplay (Now it's just "Fore! Here I cum!")
~ Roger Dodger, Over & Out!
I recall my having saved something: A special sized box … a uniquely colored rubber band … an old, old hat … or a million sundry other things, thinking that sometime in the future I might find a use or application for whatever it was.
Looking back, it seems like I was traversing a universally large area, without dimensions or size, and occasionally thinking I might need some item I saw or held, sometime in the future, so … I’d save it. I’ve been doing that for nearly eighty years now. And, it suddenly dawned on me this afternoon: I don’t have a long-term future any more.
The limitless sized “room” I have been traversing, has been narrowing, shrinking, lessening in size and scope while I have been paying attention to “things”. The arena of Life I’ve been living in has all the while been diminishing, and astonishingly, I’ve just now come to that realization: Sometime in the not-too-distant future, all those “things” I’ve been “saving for some future use”, won’t ever be re-initiated inside whatever domain I had, at one time, envisioned they would be.
That realization made me remember, when my mother passed away and I and my family members wandered through the collection of her belongings, began to fathom just how many “things” she had collected for “future use”. They were contained there, where she had left them in drawers, closets, wrapped in plastic grocery bags or newspapers. They never realized the “future” she had foreseen for them. They never would. The things that were her important “usefuls”, became just discarded items once they were voided of her
imagination of her future needs. Our dreams and aspirations are of the same ilk, just as our well-meaning “intentions”. Once we are gone, those intentions all evaporate into an invisible void. Maybe one of the saddest, empty utterances of mankind is: “I was going to …”.
So, beginning tomorrow, I think I’ll commence ridding myself of “future” stuff, lying here and there for no real reason. Oh, there’s no doubt, as I touch and pick up each of those former “future” pieces, I’ll stop to ponder what my original thought and vision had been for it to be placed, and still lying, in that dusty box.
It’s gonna be a long, memory-messaging day, I bet.