Flawed is my resolve
Blurred is my focus
In spite all that I fight off
My insatiety remains my only curse
For you I begin
For you I overcome
As I glare at the abyss that is my sin
Your applauds incites my calm
The newsman, as jarring as ever
His words paint our world into oblivion
Should I never see a light greater
I hope through you I live on
A dog with a missing leg
Knocked down by a driver
Drove at dog speed
And barked away
We have stopped to see
A group of people, too
The dog with a missing leg
And smoke from nearby hut
The municipal is here
Health officer with a spade
Staring at the carcass
And calling for backup
The cop's siren is here
Looking around curiously
I wonder why, for a dog
And bullet in the barrels
A man looks on and yawns
A sharp kitchen knife in hand
He looks anxious
And prays for a miracle
A newsman looks on
Been here for long
A canon camera at hand
He waits for his time
The dog with a missing leg
Has brought us together
Nobody speaks but we talk
There is tension in the air
No rules of engagement
Someone is angry, another one hungry
Someone is joking, another one hoping
we are here on our terms
Dan,
Dan is the man that tells all.
He lets us know the world,
is upside down, and turned around.
He lets us know it is on fire in one place
and flooding in another.
Dan walks the beaches and the parks,
the places we love in our hearts...
to soften the blow,
that leaves a glow...
burning like a bright light in the night.
Evil is taking the whole world by storm,
and only a few have bothered
to buy umbrellas.
The rest are watching as the clouds approach,
pretty lights flashing, like fireworks.
Most are asleep,
and running on empty... fumes.
They have no idea there is a cliff ahead,
and have not bothered to read,
even a single sign.
Dan the man keeps preaching.
He keeps teaching economics to us all.
He leads the lambs away
from the stockyards
and tries to set them free.
Dan is a warrior,
a modern-day soldier at arms.
His videotapes are his weapons...
They linger long after they have been watched,
and shared among many.
They make the darkness...
more afraid of the light.
(Dan is a YouTube newsman.)
In the darkness of the midnight,
A messenger draws near.
Bringing solemn tidings,
Spreading tales of fear.
Black-hearted little demon.
Against the darkened sky.
Spreads lies and confusion,
To make the people cry.
Death sets on it's wing-tips,
We are sure of that.
But where did it really come from?
That little Chinese Bat?
Were you sent out by the Devil?
Or a rich man in his stead?
Will we struggle with confusion?
Till everyone is dead?
The Newsman tells his story,
His heart is filled with glee,.
He loves to tell the story,
Of this little joke on me.
In my life I have known kindness,
Even more than I could ask.
Till a bat flew in my room.
And made me wear a mask.
Should we give up work and living?
And jump into the sea?
Just what is the answer?
For folks like you and me?
The line is very hazy,
Between what is right and fear.
What is the proper answer?
When the Bat draws near?
The truth is somewhere hidden,
Beneath the darken skies.
But how are we to find it?
Beneath so many lies?
The newsman was press for time
Wild stories stuck in his mind
So, he typed them up fast
Fell right on his ass
While his stories created a shrine
THE NEWSMAN WAS PRESS FOR TIME
WILD STORIES WERE STUCK IN HIS MIND
HE TYPED THEM UP FAST
FELL STRAIGHT ON HIS ASS
WHILE HIS STORIES CREATED A SHRINE
She know's she can't afford this life
I guess someone will
stand amused.
beyond the contracts, the fortune and fame
it's kinda hard to get people hip
to the game, little like listening, and a whole
lot of understanding. Some times you see these Bankday Broads
turn nice men into monster. And on the other hand you seesome of these peasants
turn their Gal's into pro's. The script is on the strip, and it aint groceries
the punk is negocating!
In my own way, sometimes, like those who liken there selves to the life, a celebrity is a star, but a wealthy singer
aint nothing but smart. You gotta be able to no what you doing, before you let someone else do-it for you, or to you you know!
Article from the Book, Rock and Roll Diva's and StoneCold crooners! Ballad by Beezwax, written by Delgrin Meatus, @001 From the samples of "Greatful Men" written by Fool soo Branchez, 1952 Newsman Music Company.
How disappointed he must have felt,
when the epiphany rushed in like the first salty water
of a tidal wave,
and he knew he loved this one,
that he had found her,
the one,
that chosen girl,
but his thick,
black velvet cocoon,
marked Damaged,
was the stopsign,
that red lollypop of a signal,
raised up like a snarling serpent,
tearing up dersire like a paper shredder.
How disappointed he must have felt,
when he saw her on tv,
that girl,
the one he found and lost in a day,
her rosey cheeked face big as a Montana sky,
when the newsman interviewed her,
asking her opinion on the woman's march.
How disappointed he must have felt
when he turned his back
and collapsed into the structure of his tiny day.
Should Remember Walter Cronkite
By Franklin Price
12/3/2016
Should remember Walter Cronkite
Most trusted newsman in the land
He told us what was happening
To help determine where to stand
Reported what was happening
Embellishment was not his thing
Reported, did not make the news
By adding his own flash and bling
I'm sure there is a lesson here
For modern media to adhere
Report the news, don't make the news
I hope I've made this message clear
I thought we had a few of them
'Til this election came along
All the newsmen reporting there
Took sides, which was so very wrong
Reporting news no easy job
Research, confirm, and then report
Don't want to hear what you believe
Not a personalized retort
To regain your reputation
At least the one you have with me
Make an effort to be the man
That Walter Cronkite used to be
If you could only do that now
Your reputation you could save
Or maybe Walter Cronkite took
This type reporting to his grave
This is a anecdote about not taking things for granted....
Seeing how we often jump to conclusions based on wrong assumptions...
A top notched news photographer was in a mighty hurry...
He saw a plane on the taxiway, pilot in place and take off all ready...
He jumped quickly into the plane and commanded the pilot to take off and start flying....
Shortly after, he asked the pilot to make a turn to over where a forest fire was raging..
There was a moment's hesistation before the pilot queried why...
Pompously, the newsman replied he was a news reporter, that was why...
There was a another moment of silence, longer than the earlier momentary hesitation...
Then a quavering voice from the pilot, "You are not my new flight instructor?"... ..
Don't simply assume or jump to conclusions...
It can bring forth dire consequences...
Have a nice day, people!
Footnote..... sharing a message from Facebook 20Sept2016
Rhetoric! Over and over again, we hear
The same old arguments, year after year
Fooling around with mankind’s minds
You hide cleverly and can’t be found
The TV newsman reports, as they’re told
Edited, slanted, from whence banks hold
Merely slaves, to things, and slaves, who hear
Lies, tales, agendas, hidden, we’re captives
Sleep if you must, you’re probably ~ better off
Believe the TV ********, from comics and lust
Fall into traps, like mines strategically underground
Step on one, break your mother’s back, holy to you ~ not them.
Go to church on Sunday, play their good game
Cause no rifts, nor trouble, don’t question or blame
Follow the pope, Buddha, follow Christ, follow fame
They don’t care, just play, and appear extremely tame.
Raise no hopes, raise no questions, vote for someone
It doesn’t matter, they’re from the same, there’s no freedom
The banks, the educational system, and then there’s ~ medicare
Look behind the smokescreen, but say, very little, you’re not alone.
©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights reserved…
Unique newsman Andy Rooney,
did not look like a George Clooney;
beetling brows grew too much hair,
verbalist extraordinaire.
Copyright, May 17, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
A train derailed, the newsman said,
And there are people hurt and dead.
If someone that you love was there,
Then call this number, if you dare.
Imagine if you had to choose
To call or wait to have some news.
The agony of knowing not
Would try what patience someone’s got.
Though phoning could provide relief,
For some, there might be only grief,
Discovering an act of fate
Has made their loved one doubly late.
Ploop Plop
I flopped down onto the black leather coach
Wee Snaw
I inhaled deeply
Slowly i twisted my head to the right
The AT&T remote control lay blocked
Umph
An attempt to get the remote; I succeded
Click Click Click
I changed the channel
"A shooting at Sandy Hook" the weatherman said
"Elementary students 6-7 shot, gone, and dead"
Utter shock filled my mind
Slowly I pressed rewind
"6-7 shot, gone, and dead"
The newsman repeated
Again and again I began to lose control
Instantly I'd felt panic
My child, I thought
I grabbed my keys and began to run towards my car
Ring, ring, ring it rang several times
I stopped
"Answer the phone" I thought
Chink, I answered
"Susan"
"yes" I replied.
"She's gone."
“Hit me, hit, me, hit me, pass…
One can loose money with poker fast!”
Skipping in line, the skipper plead,
“Move aside; let me pass ahead.”
The diner said, “I am not crass.
Cabbage gives me gas…I’ll pass.”
“Driving a car can be a blast!
But please be careful when you pass.”
The student took the test, then, prayed,
“I crammed all night, help me pass this grade.”
The patient told the nurse with a shout.
“The sight of blood makes me pass out!”
He was not trying to pass the buck.
That he could blame her was his good luck.
The newsman spoke as he entered free,
“Here’s my press pass for all to see!
Hurriedly the judge said, “Let me through.
The beauty contestants will pass in review.”
A sinner at the heaven’s gates sassed,
I paid my tithe, why won’t you let me pass?”
There is one thing I want to say,
Laugh about passing then, have a good day.
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
September 26, 2010
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