About Us   Publish and be read! Poetry, lyrics, short stories, scripts, words of wisdom, features, memorials, blogs (a day in my life), memoirs, history, business, and I.T.
Home   Adults   Youngsters   The Plot Thickens   Publications  

More by this Author
© writebuzz® 2004-2024
All rights reserved.

The copyright of each of the publications on this site is retained by the author of the publication. writebuzz.com has been granted permission to display the publications under the terms and conditions of membership to the original site. Publications should not be copied in either print or electronic form without prior permission. Where permission is obtained the authors must be acknowledged. Thank you.
  You are @ HomeAdults Poetry


Source: Adults

Author: Stuart Johnson

Title: Press-modeus

This empty dim-lit office, of humanity bereft
This steaming black lair, the cleaners have long since left
Just I, and I alone, with calculated diligence
Hissing with the stench of cheaply earnt influence

" You have the right to know "
Even business that's not yours
But who the hell am I to impose my moral laws?

A soul-less lonely pen-scratch, and sullen keyboard chatter
As I snatch your private life away, and make you front-page-platter
For the lustful ravenous masses, who pluck my column from the shelf
Who can't form their own opinions, and despise your fame and wealth

" You have the right to know "
Veils this seedy tabloid fest
Yet who the hell am I to decide what's for the best?

I barge my views to the front of the queue, I've got something to say
Control your fear and feed your anger, such easily digested prey
You don't want facts or truths, they only complicate
Just swallow what you want to hear, I'll duly fabricate

" You have the right to know "
Is the feeble lame excuse
And who the hell am I, with this power I abuse?

With claws and talons fully drawn, I dismember any cultures
That don't conform to my beliefs, and draw you in like vultures
Nothing sacred in my world, just a scandal, falsehood vendor
I dig the dirt and mix it up with political agenda

" You have the right to know "
It's your 'freedom' I defend
But who the hell am I? And from where did I ascend?
Press-modeus, well that's my name
A product of infernal flame
But it matters not from where I came
It's where I'll take you, that's my game
For now your media will always be blessed
By my presence, every Journo soul possessed
And soon you'll see the dreadful truth
That your " Right to know " is a fraudulent spoof

Published on writebuzz®: Adults > Poetry

writebuzz®... the word is out!