Tag Archive | network news

Talking Heads

TheMagicRealist.com

Talking heads talk to talking heads throughout the day
About all that is newsworthy. People must know
Every detail of tragedy as it takes place.
Media will abuse you and shout in your face
Just to get the damned story to air on their show
Before anyone else does. Why is this our way?

Talking heads are paid big bucks to say what they say
Because they have been saying things for a long time.
They are qualified heads… some with talking degrees
And with egos attuned to sharp shooting the breeze
Yet, without common decency, talk is a crime.
It helps keep women silent and truth locked away.

I don’t want to come forward. I’m not made of steel.
Neither are my young children and our privacy.
I can’t count on our congress to safeguard my word.
If the FBI checks things, why is that absurd?
Trust and faith in my system is quite hard for me
And my strong sense of duty reflects how I feel.

But It’s True!

TheMagicRealist.com

I just saw it on TV, so I know it’s true.
I keep up with events that occur in the world
And my country and state and what’s in my back yard.
I consume information. For me that’s not hard.
My mind can be gripped because it’s fully knurled
By my own set of preferences and point of view.

I cannot not believe them. They said that it’s so.
So it’s Gospel. Don’t tell me to ignore the facts.
I must think from the box. There is no other source.
And to think from one’s own head is nonsense, of course.
I’m a creature of habit programmed to relax
And let all things around me put on their grand show.

Just because it is true, does such truth affect me?
Things are true as we make them so through our belief.
Yes, some things are quite blatant, explicit and real.
We evaluate by how we think, see and feel.
We create what is real to us. It’s the motif
In a world ever-changing toward what is to be.

A Brim and Lucid Catatonia

TheMagicRealist.com, The Magic Realist, Magic Realism

Derelict is the course that world powers could take
To resolve its own problems despite common sense.
There’s a heat wave this summer through much of the land.
With a tyrant in office, hell seems rather bland.
It’s a sick world that needs megatons of defense.
All in all, they would give our fine earth a remake.

Since the changing of office, we’ve lost all respect
For most folks in positions that formerly meant
They were safe from abuse by the power that be.
Now, the souls of good servants are trashed by decree.
Times can surely get hot as we make our descent
Through a bottomless pit with no soul to protect.

That’s a fairly bleak picture seen only through eyes
Who are not in connection with their healing heart.
There’s a world that is out there. It is what it does
By its acts that are current and come from what was.
My world and the ‘real’ world are lightyears apart.
I cannot be affected. My heart rarely cries.

Pinball Wizardry

TheMagicRealist.com

It’s that time of the decade… A week left to go.
Clear the ‘coons from the basement‘ and ‘drain the swamp.’
What manner of subtlety spoke from the heart!
There is language to color – a nuance a part
From persona prepared and paraded in pomp.
Our nigger is ‘feckless‘?  Some folks don’t think so!

So he’s that and so many other bad things.
It’s a wonder the man ever made it this far
What with faithfully feckful, well-armed to the mouth
With no god above them and spirits gone South
Hurling insults and ready to ‘heat up the tar.’
He is not the Almighty, nor is he King of Kings.

Yet neither is either successor-to-be
Because feckless-lesness is a relative thing.
If the job is to keep the world held in one piece
What Manner of Gonads Would Cause War to Cease?
Pin the balls on the president to whom we cling.
Will world war be avoided?  We’ll just wait and see.

Neuter the Damned Cats!!!

TheMagicRealist.com

There’s a House that some families make home for a while
In a city that’s known to be contra A.C.
Within it a chain of male cats have held reign,
But the smell of the place does drive folks to complain.
Does anyone know what the hell it could be?
There are nothing but Cats there, and they don’t defile.

Yet, claw marks on furniture are most telltale.
Random rips in the fabric were missed by the crew
Who make sure the place glows and that it smells clean
For the next worthy, tom-catted purring machine.
So still that damned smell comes up out of the blue
And the people, downwind, become ripe to assail.

In the Oval Office, the smell’s still pretty rank
Though an atomized mist of a fragrance did work.
It had done so ‘til now, but the smell has returned.
Now it seems that both candidates’ voices are spurned.
So being a woman is NOT such a perk.
Since she married a Tomcat, she has him to thank!

Foghorn Forlorn

TheMagicRealist.com

What is up with you, boy? Get from underneath there.
Don’t you know that’s the first place a rooster will look?
My big mouth’s been a pushin’ you through all along.
You’re now head of the head cocks. What did I do wrong?
It’s a slap in the face, boy; my gizzard’s been shook.
But, I’ll act like I’m happy and don’t really care.

The things that you say, boy, are right off the wall.
I couldn’t do better, and ain’t proud to say.
But, my boy, you been yip-yappin’ like Elmer Fudd.
It’s no wonder folks want your name dragged through the mud.
I been workin’ my tail feathers off night and day.
And what thanks do I get? … A ‘yes bird’ uninstall.

I may rough up a chicken who gets in your way.
That’s the way that I am, and I ain’t here to please.
In fact, boy, I’m big on the brash just like you.
We made a good team, but for now, we are through.
If you need me again, boy, just drop to your knees.
If you really had to, that would sure make my day.

America the Mutable

TheMagicRealist.com

Oh beautiful for friendly skies
Kept safe as best we can
For politics and sports combined
So folks know there’s a plan
America! America! God has His eye on thee
As entertainment fills the air
From sea to raging sea

Oh beautiful for points of view
That show our colors well
For arrogance and much ado
What good is there to tell?
America! America… A frontier yet today
Performers swing inside the ring
And grimace as they play

Oh beautiful for lethal blows
And shots below the belt
As spirits reach the lowest lows
That ever had been felt
America! America! Don’t keep God up your sleeve
We can do good in brotherhood
The world will then believe

Oh beautiful for front row seats
At lively staged events
For caucuses and campaign feats
And polls that make no sense
My love for you is bitter sweet; by happenstance, I’m here
And when November comes around
I’ll vote and have no fear

Gravitational Wave

TheMagicRealist.com

Can black holes dance the jig?  Astrophysics says so.
Political science may say they cannot, yet
Sometimes it’s a tango performed on the air,
And others, a salsa consumed in much flair.
Whereas each school of thought knows the other’s a lot,
The War of the Stars generates what we know

Today as a wave front of tremendous power.
It ripples the minds of the populous swirl
Of the lesser, light beings caught up in the dance.
As above; so below,’ seems an apt circumstance.
Gravitational Wave sets a nation to twirl,
Keeping up day by day, and then hour by hour.

Some wise man ago knew that it would be proved…
All those massive events – some most grave and intense,
Do send out their vibes which can warp one’s space-time.
For big stars it’s ok, but for us, it’s a crime.
If I am caught red handed, I’ll plead self-defense.
Because proof has become us, we are then moved.

Global Warning

TheMagicRealist.com

There’s a consciousness keeping this marble in place
As it spins on its axis and circles its star.
It’s been doing that eons before man arrived.
It’s astounding how much we believe what’s contrived.
The force who created it all knows by far
How to maintain its temperature through ‘random grace.’

It seems to make sense; we’re an untidy bunch
And we’ve grazed every grassland like wild wildebeest
But we haven’t thrown enough dirt in the air
That it forms its own orbit and makes its home there.
Who would know why the heat in the air has increased?
Those with harsh, toxic outlooks and minds out to lunch.

A few men from this world have now romped on its moon.
‘Not a boner for science for all that it’s worth
But the few families running this word as we know
Would just as soon see all the rest of us go
To heaven knows where… surely off of their earth.
Yes, the temperature’s rising. Whose soul is immune?

A Person of Office

TheMagicRealist.com

The Leader of Nations – a president’s call,
As a fireman sleeps right up close to his pole,
Or the radar tech poised in a dim radar room
With status lights blinking and circuits to groom.
Soon comes the time to put one in control.
Should that person lack ‘Office,’ then God help us all.

So just what is this quality judged by our minds
When candidates line up and tell us what’s wrong
With this country and those who are right now in charge?
Some quite gentle and calm… Some with egos too large.
The persons we chose from perhaps all belong
To secret cult orders and royal blood lines.

That may be a myth or big shark attack tragic.
The myth of the ‘Person of Office’ remains
The major criterion guiding our voting.
There’s little to do with what whom is promoting.
Maybe most make selections detached from their brains.
How else does it seem they’re elected by magic?