In the beginning, the Word stood alone,
A solitary witness to creation.
Its single nascent syllable was pleasant in tone,
But found itself in need of conversation.
In the beginning, the Word harnessed time,
Till language lit the darkness of existence.
It wove an epic narrative of meter and rhyme
For Echo to get jiggy with Narcissus.
In the beginning, the Word could be heard
To lend its voice to vendors hawking merch.
It sacrificed its soul to play the mockingbird,
Dispensing infomercials from its perch.
In the beginning, the Word was pristine,
But soon became corrupted by the Man.
Xenophobic buzzwords vented venom from spleen.
Political invective fouled the land.
In the beginning, the Word learned deceit,
Revealing innuendo like a stripper,
Commemorating Salomé’s sinister feat
With tropes and taglines framed as sacred scripture.
In the beginning, the Word stood in awe,
Aware of its potential for abuse.
It sifted man from superman by quoting Bernard Shaw,
Then authorized The Tales of Mother Goose.
Infomercials
Haiku: by Tom
12/17/2020
Those infomercials,
for things I don’t need or want,
have grown annoying!
Dark and murky they hide their face
political appetite for many
I don't have any
even if there was a parking space
A star some born in which to be
some hunger for destruction
fear of abduction
from the paparazzi
I was almost there
I was a singer and songwriter
quite an igniter
but I didn't care
You must stay on top
or you'll be in infomercials
and winding up on commercials
this needs to stop
It has a plus side though
everything does
you can pay off the fuzz
and enter in free to your show
Being in the arena without trying
I wish I could've been so lucky
a bar stool junkie
they tell the truth when their lying
Things between us have changed.
Pretending only presents the underlying problem.
We spend our time in seperate rooms.
The television on two seperate channels.
Still unable to find what we're looking for.
Demanding peace unwilling to press for change.
The thing's we said we'd never do.
Complete faith that we'd never walk pass each other.
So much as a single word.
Strangers in wait that it will get better.
If it isn't you, I can't go on.
Good or bad.
Being forced to pretend that everything is alright.
Another show airs.
Demanding attention else where.
I am trying,
But can't keep flipping past the infomercials without being tempted.
Searching for a happy ending
The souls of the Damned in Perdition
Oft complain of their hellish conditions.
“TV reception is bad,
There’s no WiFi to be had,
And there's talk of starting a petition!”
And added a lost soul named Hershel,
(Though some deemed this too controversial):
“Plus we demand a refund
For the Oprah reruns
And all the ’Hair Club for Men’ infomercials.”
Said the landlord, “Guys, I hear all your pleas.
You think brimstone and pitchforks are free?
Things are tough all around,
‘Specially here underground.
And you do get to stay here rent-free.”
What's with all those infomercials
Those people talking in circles
Trying to sell you stuff you don't need
Tell you their product will do this guaranteed
They are always on really late
With their shtick some poor insomniac they bait
Lack of sleep they're not thinking right
The temptation they can't fight
Get rid of those wrinkles on your face
With this cream time will be erased
Do you want to blast that belly fat
Hey we got a pill for that
You know you need that pressure cooker
We got cosmetics to make you a looker
Exercise programs for that summer body
They'll give you a six pack;make you a hottie
Order soon this is what you'll pay
Hurry act now don't delay
We'll even throw in something free
And don't forget the money back guarantee
We take all major credit cards
Our disclaimer please don't disregard
Oh yeah there's one last thing
Those shipping fees will really sting
-C.A.Saputo xoxo
I have this recurring fantasy. I travel to northern Ontario and hire a bush pilot who flies me to the Great Slave Lake. It is a one way trip.
I carry my trusty Ronco Survival Knife that I bought for $19.95 in a weak moment a few years ago after watching one of those late night infomercials. The top of the large serrated hunting knife is a compass, which screws off to reveal fish hooks, a bit of line, some matches, a folded up saw.
I take one eighth of my ancestors with me, the Cherokee relations. I will survive the bitter cold and the bears and wolves. I will fish, find wild berries and rob honey trees.
Lichen broths are supposed to be nutritious, even tasty, I understand.
filling the feeders
I watch for
the Northern Flicker
(Published Simply Haiku - Spring 2009)
Mind is racing, too tired to sleep
Tried everything, even counting sheep
Turn on the TV as the channels I scan
Being up all night was not the plan
Infomercials and movies, all seen before
Battling my brain, this means war
It seems the more I try not to think
The less likely to sleep I will sink
And now I eat, but not out of hunger
Regretting the naps I skipped when younger
I look at the clock, and it only gets worse
Insomnia can be such a curse
Time goes by, but utterly slow
In just a few hours it will be time to go
Searching for something to give me rest
But I end up failing, you might have guessed
There is always tomorrow, hope not to repeat
Maybe me and the sandman will finally meet.
TV- you see allot of dumb stuff,
you hear their commercials…
clever, yet they holler, isn't this enough,
they bombard you with paid infomercials,
We’ve turned it off, switched to DVD's
an our computer, xbox came an gone,
they changed to reality, pushing BVD's
we collect our movie CDs, too, hang on,
News is all about current fear
another device they have in use,
sure, we want to stay current to hear
weather, crime, meds, world event news,
TV, pods an our music is essential
pageants also game shows, soaps too,
late night talk, comedy central
entertainment, see us USA, what we do,
Also radio will always be here...
what else will they use, brew or invent,
what will get us back in our lounge chair
food, fashion, gadgets, all to be content
Cresent moon consorts
Met on a hillside, dew-soaked and overgrown
Seducing the sun from sleep.
Before infomercials succumbed to scheduled shows
You were my cartoons and cereal.
Sugary, sitting so close to your screen.
Our skin blowing steam,
Fattening the fog until it fell from the sky.
Delicious and dark the dawn
Anticipating light
The day stretched and yawned,
Bluebirds cleared their throats,
Street-cats rubbing eyes,
I held you as you cried.
While responsible citizens were stuck in traffic
You were a full tank of gas and an open road
Dreamy, with your pedal pushed to your floor.
Barren and yellow became our hills
The sun never stops shining.
Not a shadow exists to take solace in
sipping each heaven-sent breeze.
Directionless pursuits
no stars to find my way by
Lost like the moon in the blinding blue heavens
Sunburnt flesh
died on a hillside, windswept and thirsty.
Begging the sun to sleep.
X.I commandments, the lost lamentations
thou shalt witness infomercials
thou shalt carry unknown desires
thou shall sign away contentment
thou will discover liability
thou shall not have read small print
thou percentage will approach thy age
thou shalt cry with lacrimation
thou salt will crust thy face
thou shalt stare into nothingness and
to thy credit, thou will know human folly
© Goode Guy 2012-04-13
Ohm sweet ohm. Home sweet home.
Through computer cascades I roam.
Introspective resonances fade.
As quickly and eloquently as the plans I made.
Infomercials resist and persist in my head.
Ohm's reverberate until i'm dead .
Sweet shifting breezes in my mind.
Ohm how I despise your rotten kind.
Sleep number sixty-five,
get a set of Ginsu knives.
One hundred fifty all time hits,
a rowing machine to make you fit.
An amazing chamois to dry your car,
a GPS to tell you how far.
A contour belt to tighten your abs,
a portable treadmill melt away flab.
We'll teach you to buy a foreclosed home,
buy a new phone for wherever you roam.
You can buy a coin, straight from the mint,
even a brush,for removing the lint.
You can buy a new vacuum,for cleaning the floor,
or another machine to open your door.
Buy an electric wheelchair, to get you around,
or a tiny new radio with stereo sound.
You can get all the things you want today,
right off the T.V. that's what they say.
Just pull out your VISA, for your payments times three,
We'll deliver your stuff, wherever you be.
Infomercials !
As I turn on my Plasma TV, right here in front of me.
This is what I find first:
A Shopping Channel (so rehearsed)
The weather Channel (oh great, snow)
Cable channel music (Christmas music~slow)
Decorating Channel (oh, gee)
Discovery Channel (lots to see)
Spanish Channel (What?)
Infomercials (shut up!)
Food Channel (try and ignore)
Rerun Channels (such a bore)
News Channels (negativity)
Game Channels (positivity!)
Yup, did it again...2 am, and I lost 4 or 5 poems...which will have to be redone...I
will try to wait till tomorrow, as I am exhausted from a stressful day...what am I
doing wrong??? However, in the past, when this has happened, I find I can not
go to sleep...my mind won't let me, so I wind up getting up, and back on line...and
as so many times too often, greeting the rising sun with weary eyes and weary
body...and no TV to watch, it's all paid programming, infomercials, and the
likes...and unlike the classic telemarketers, who'se chain I pull with great
glee...being overly friendly and asking "dumd" questions ...and baiting them for
upcoming sarcasm...I LOVE a battle of wits...on my last psychiatric evaluation
last month, by the time I was done with that "shrink", he needed a psychiatrist!!
Just give me a pompous fool, and in no time at all, I'll deflate their egos and they
will go home crying...later...
Related Poems