Short Newspapers Poems

Dogpatch
Daisy Mae
Little Abner
T. Cornpone USA
Al Capp...

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All coup newspapers
publish daily burn of trees
 nature doesn't read !...

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newspapers publish
 again fire in the woods...
but birds read nothing !...

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Printed
propaganda
with a political
program marketable to the
public....

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Love was standing 
On a street corner
Near this 
News paper stand
Eating a 
Cherry Popsicle...

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World News 

Obama won the election 
With great elation 
Yet the headlines in 
Norwegian newspapers were 
About cheese importation...

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I miss the local deli
Where they sold ice cream and jelly
They sold everything
From newspapers to string
All served with a smile by our Nellie...

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come now little dog

                                 stop shaking

                              it's only thunder







MagiCicada 13...

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when newspapers said

we would have a big earthquake

in twenty-five years -

the year was 1980!

still sitting    on the fault line...

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I know you like that
Those faded smiles
And soaked cheeks
Fiery feelings felt
For a time
Now buried 
Under old newspapers
Concealing the past
With black and white ink...

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    Newspapers can be logs for the fire
        or non-functional rolling pins

    Obsolete as white-stockinged town criers
        along with typewriters ~ has-beens
...

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The winter evening decends calm
with a few gentle snowflakes drifting
four o'clock
the cloudy sky of day is now deep purple
a gusty wind and old withered leaves dance
with newspapers...

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In the past, people trusted the press.
For the press had a certain noblesse.
But today, I would say,
trust has withered away —
we are now very hard to imPRESS....

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To solve the evil of pollution
     just eating less is a solution
     stone poop of indian 
     is real  serious question
     not doing every day is action



   Read in daily newspapers...

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A
historic flood
forgotten except in
tucked away 
newspapers
which a reader
runs across and
due to an assumed
overlay of time
apparently
avoids the freedom
arising as what
is happening~~...

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Everywhere I look I see words.
In Magazines
In newspapers
On Billboards
Words are in books
Words are in grocery stores
Words are in malls and even parks 
Words surround me
Day in and day out...

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Valentine Vapors

In the midst of her valentine capers
she succumbed to a case of the vapors
with a grunt and a groan
she wound up alone
so the sweet lass just spread out newspapers.


John G. Lawless
©2/14/2018...

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For the last couple of days
Pope John Paul the Second
Has laid down
Across the covers of the newspapers
And his body comes away on the hands of public opinion

Death wonders
About Arafat’s passing away
And Sharon
At history
Throws stones...

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Let me ask you, how does the poem change
when "dog" is addressed in the female gender?


              come now little "....."

                    stop shaking

                  it's only thunder



More specifically,
do you still see a dog?...

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LOW COUNTRY BOIL SOUTH CAROLINA STYLE


Potatoes, corn, onions, sausage, shrimp, and crabs
Boiled together to perfection
Old newspapers laid on the table
All ingredients dumped together
Careful, it's hot
YUM!!


Contest – Low Country Boil
By:  Sara Kendrick...

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Rolling my eyes
Everywhere I go
Searching for my luck
Hope that there’s a place
For someone like me.

Those newspapers
Scattered on floor
Makes me crazy
Desperate one...

I won’t stop
Won’t give up
I’ll try hard...

I know
I’ll find...

JOB....

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anywhere without you
aint that pretty
but i keep my peel on you
cold and wet in new york
the wind like a proverbial knife
crowded train
queues at the bus stop
pulling down the ball and chain
Unreal faces behind newspapers
commute at your peril




...

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Smoke from newspapers, streets,
schools, politicians......is making
my mind blurry. Screenshots 
of my mind look like a battle-field;
a fight between my thoughts
and others' thoughts. I am under
pressure from inside, like a cigar clinging
onto its stuffed smoke.........

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Where's my Umbrella 

Poor Raincoat is torn and old

It's Pouring cats and dogs out there  

Will get Soaked down to the bone

Skipping and splashing in puddles  

Holding Newspapers over my head

If I don't get my Umbrella  

It'll be Sneezing and Coughing in bed...

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Your face is splayed across newspapers all over our state
I dream of finding you and returning you to your mother.
This is 1977, and you came up missing five blocks from my house.
That was forty-five years ago, and I still think of you.
Wishing I could be the one to save you....

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