Sadly he died. Tennis court side' a critc of Novac
And proponent of fact checks, many years stating
Scores checking stats, opening doors grand slam
Tours. newsroom floors.' Maybe often in make-up?
Gave many a take-up. dead, now at the Davis cup
To be sure!.And good words from 'the champion'
Whose name. has been 'stamped upon' the cup just
Time and again ..Djocavic's not being held
This time. a hotel prisoner, just for speaking his mind
On truth as he sees it.' On God given health by design'
Mike Dickenson, sure gave it him; large' by volleys of
Inches and yards, because he beleived i suppose? In all
Of the vitrolic prose.' And then again? his d m; was also
pushing real hard.'
Foxy Frisky Feline Forecaster Frantic Fay
Wished good weather would come their way
Saying stiff swishy, sadly serious storms will stay.
She was booed out of the newsroom and far away.
The word ‘news’
is mainly abused
be it by digital wizards
or print newsroom lizards
Suitable for news
in their narrow views
reports completely depressing --
greed, hatred, murder, war
~ rare, the story with a blessing
Follow the news these days
the sky is always dark gray
To find out about anything good
take a walk ‘round your neighborhood
Newsrooms Hanging in the Wind
David J Walker
I have been in them plenty
Spent my life attempting to empty
The world around me of its darkness
Its greedy hardness
Greeting me in a daily challenge
I knew that by the end, of the
6 O’clock news
I would win
My desk was an alter
My Olympic typewriter the
Printer of truth
The Newsroom itself a sanctuary
Immune to the retaliations of the
Exposed
Those were the days, I supposed
Would never end
But the final sign off has
Come and gone and
I left hanging in the wind
Paintings in blue
Hanging on newsroom den,
All captured
memories from the past
Rendered on velvet.
Abstract visions-
Treasures, these keepsakes from Grandma;
Dearly loved recollections.
Invitation to Play Poetry Contest
Aug 4, 2019
The due date approaches; the deadline looms
Irritation's in the air; annoyance fumes
A cauldron boils in every newsroom
The tension's palpable; nerves are frayed
Editors hit the ceiling
At mistakes never made
Ill winds are blowing of mounting desperation
Cooler heads giving way to righteous indignation
Utter frustration in the act of creation
Now the boss' out his mind; he's gone off the deep end
Taken it out on someone; flown right off the handle
Only to land himself head first in a scandal...
So remember, all you newsies, stay under control
Not blowing up's your primary goal
Meet your deadline; don't forfeit your soul
Not the warship
Primed for battle,
Not the chained
weight to secure
a ship,
But the anchor
on the evening news,
Ever notice how often
they lose?
Changed near monthly,
sometimes it seems,
An end to their newsroom
star dreams
Kytee Dung, Dodger
Grimslee, Falter Concrete,
Tomm's Brokedown, so many
more,
Which one you'll see tomorrow,
You can never be sure...
But as long as they are pretty,
And don't make of themselve an ****,
They may last another week,
And remain among the cast.
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