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.

 .

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2015

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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]

 .

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2015

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One of the reasons people hate politics 

is that truth is rarely a politician's objective. 

Election and power are.

Cal Thomas

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.

 .

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2015

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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”.

 .

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2015

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