Saturday, February 21, 2015

781 - Hard Pressed

Three Word Wednesday requires participants
to use the three words of the week in a composition.
The words this week were: content, evolve & sober.


Hard Pressed

The media makes a great hullabaloo
About things they wish to pursue.
The content is skewed,
However it’s viewed,
And the truth is rarely on view.

◊◊◊

They assume that their readers are dead,
And are wanting a distraction instead,
So the page three depicts
Some extraordinary tits
Evolved for a double page spread.

◊◊◊

The truth is the promise, rehearsed,
In fact it’s just the reverse:
They create a great flap
That is one-sided crap,
And if watching it sober, it’s worse.
 .
---
© J Cosmo Newbery 2015
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Sunday, February 15, 2015

780 - No Relation

Wordle 199: empty, held, memory, saintly, crack, track,
wrestle, pebbles, cue, act, science, angel

3WW : Devious, frown & venomous.


No Relation
Politics have no relation to morals. 
Niccolo Machiavelli

Act I
Promises made,
But not held,
Fall like pebbles
Into a black lake
To ripple briefly
And then vanish 
From sight
And memory.
“No more questions”
Says the minder.
The guy with the tie
Turns, on cue,
Walks in side
Protected.
People frown,
Wrestle with the 
Devious ambiguity
Of what they think 
They may have heard.
Ripples fade.

Act II
A pit of vipers,
Venomous, spiteful,
Spit empty words,
Across the chamber.
Sharp though.
Meant to hurt,
To wound.
But it’s all an act.
Acting out a battle
With no winners
And no end.

Act III
Two tribes
Core troops
Crack troops
Face off
Meanwhile,
In the middle ground,
Between the two,
The undecided 
Swither.
Which one
Is the lesser?

Act IV
Science is wrong.
The facts lie.
Trust me.

Act V
The lighting.
The make up.
Flags.  
Suit.  
Tie.
The saintly presentation.
I am an angel.
I will save you.
I promise.
Trust me.
Love me.
Vote for me.

Act VI
Behind the saintly façade,
Black dogs,
Attack dogs,
On the track dogs,
Bring down 
And maul
Their prey.
No prisoners.

[Repeat]
 .
---
© J Cosmo Newbery 2015
---

One of the reasons people hate politics 
is that truth is rarely a politician's objective. 
Election and power are.
Cal Thomas

Saturday, February 07, 2015

779 - Desire:Shiver:Wilt


Three Word Wednesday requires participants
to use the three words of the week in a composition.
The words this week were: desire, shiver & wilt.


To Desire. To Shiver. To Wilt.

Desire.
The wanting to have and to hold
That which is beyond you,
A fact you’ve yet to find,
A thing or a person who
Appeals
Irrationally steals
Your mind
Leaving fog in its place
Leaving you to run blindly, controlled
By the challenge of the chase.

Shiver.
There is that first moment of doubt
When what you think you saw
When viewed a bit obliquely
Displays a worrying flaw
A crack
It takes you aback
To see
What was perfect yesterday
Now has brought the shivers out
And you take a step away.

Wilt.
Everything living must die.
But love can linger on.
While it too is a living thing
The substance it feeds upon
Is care
And regular repair.
This brings 
Us to where most tears are spilt—
If nourishment is not oft applied
Love will quickly wilt.
 .
---
© J Cosmo Newbery 2015
---

Sunday, February 01, 2015

778 - The Captain

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #197) presents a list of words
that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  
The words this week are:

rescue, patron, day, measure, spread, race,
state, host, spend, ticking, cloud, humility

Ther might be just a little bit of Australian politics in this...


The Captain

“Who will rescue us?”, the people wailed
As their ship is tossed yet slowing,
“We don’t well like where we’ve been
And have no idea where we’re going”.

“The Captain’s lost his marbles
Since the day he came to power,
It’s not what ticks that makes us fret,
It’s the cuckoos, on the hour.”

“His guiding light is Saint Lizzardtongue,
From the land of Déjà vu;
The patron saint of those remorseful folk
Who should repent but never, ever do.

Humility is a foreign state
As he races around the deck,
On a bike, in Lycra shorts,
With a knighthood around his neck.

In fairness to this hapless dolt,
He hosts a motley crew,
All of them are a slimey lot,
Like pots of playschool glue.

The people fret in the cargo hold
While the crew ignore their howls
By any measure, they distort the truth 
And then spread it on with trowels.

So the days are spent on the cloudy seas
With a Captain, none too bright;
The compass points them straight ahead
But he steers them to the right.

“Who will rescue us?”, the people wailed
As their ship is tossed yet slowing,
“We don’t well like where we’ve been
And have no idea where we’re going”.
 .
---
© J Cosmo Newbery 2015
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