One eyewitness could be better than ten hearsays.
Related quotes
I had been an eyewitness to a truly historic moment in American pop culture.
quote by Jean Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The testimony of one eyewitness is worth more than the hearsay of a hundred.
Hai Ku in the Brazilian way
The old sugar mill
The sharp and silent eyewitness
Of passion love crime
poem by Sílvia Oliveira
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Laughing
I wake up I'm staring at the clock
My belly hurts and my head is like a rock
I get up to see what I can see
Furthest I got was my black and white TV
Eyewitness News brought to you at noon
Oh my God guess I got up too soon because
Oh I feel like laughing
All because of you
I didn't mean to wear this disguise
But I can't stand the look in my eyes
Oh I didn't mean to lie
I was doing what I thought was right
Come on walk on down the line
You'll be walking till the end of time because
Oh I feel like laughing
All because of you
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Idriss
News items are obtained from eyewitnesses,
But i am the eyewitness on this love;
So come and show me your true love, Idriss.
To tell the story like it is and,
To love you with all my heart;
So Idriss, come and show me your true love.
Of the present event full of history and,
Of the true love that we have to share;
Come! And do not be a by-stander on this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Tear Down These Walls
Verse1:
Oh the voice of equality
Hearsays all I find
Put your money where your mouth is
Were running out of time
Another generation
In a world of hurtful words
I listened for a ring of truth
But lies were all Ive heard
Wont somebody tell me why we hurt one another?
Chorus:
Tear down these walls
Once and for all Im trying to
Tear down these walls
Tear down these walls
Once and for all Im crying
No mans too great or small to
Tear down these walls
Verse2:
Enough harsh blows, enough put-downs
Were all one and the same
You are all my brothers
Though I dont know you by name
With drastic measures needed
When ashes turn to tides
Will we stand up for each other?
Or stand on separate sides?
Wont somebody tell me why we hurt one another?
Chorus
Bridge:
Lets build a bridge and meet halfway
And if we fall, well fall together
I know there once was a dark day
But the past shouldnt linger on forever
Cant we try to see with one eye
In a world full of all our people
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pen Unpriced Poetry
P ress progress, profess
E ffortless eyewitness exquisiteness,
N imbleness, neatness. Nevertheless,
U nharness useless unpleasantness
N eedless. Nonetheless, nameless
P ettiness process protest.
R uthless redress regress,
I naptness, iciness, idleness.
C ompress clumsiness, childishness,
E xcess eruditeness, erroneousness,
D epthless digress, dumbness.
P ossess priceless prowess,
O penness, outwardness, otherworldliness,
E xpress endless evenness
T erseness, timeless tastefulness,
R e-address random-access role-reversing resourcefulness.
Y in, Yang's yolk yoke. Yes? … Yes!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Tahrir Square Shrouded In Smoke Teargas Clouds
in immediate
protest response
to Mubarak’s
awaited late-night
television address
one eyewitness
reported a
small seed fire
had been set
at the Mogama
building housing
several
government
offices
in central
Tahrir square
which was
shrouded by clouds
of smoke teargas
Mubarak in his first
public appearance
since unrest
broke out
four days before
said on state
television 'It is not
by setting fire
and by attacking
private
and public property
that we achieve
the aspirations
of Egypt
and its sons,
but they will
be achieved
through dialogue,
awareness
and effort.'
aspirations
of protesters
will be achieved
through effort
dialogue in Egypt
with Mubarak gone...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Why Do I Love You So?
Why Do I Love You So?
Written by: Wilfred Charles Mellers, Sunday, December 20,2009 in Pattaya, Thailnad @ 8: 46 AM
Why do I love you so?
I don’t know, but each day it grows
Why do I need you so much?
Why can’t I live without your touch?
Is it really true that you love me?
In your possession my hearts only key
The love I have is so profound
I cannot breathe when you are not around
My chest tightens and my heart is pounding
I close my eyes and you angels are surrounding
I cannot stand to see the day
My nights are filled with gloom and dismay
My very soul to you I’m revealing
A Life with you would be so appealing
You are all that I can think of
You are my first and only true love
Why do I feel the way I do?
Is it simply because I love you?
My love I hope you can sense
My world blessed with a sweet experience
The hole in my heart you have mended
My life now you have extended
Nursed my soul back to health and fitness
You are a goddess and I an eyewitness
I love you more than any other would
By hell’s fire I stand with you if I could
Sacrifice my life for you to use
My immortal soul to you I would not refuse
The choir sings as a church bell ring
An angel starts to sing
I the stricken now my heart is well
Hopelessly in love with you I have fell
You ask why do I feel the way I do?
You ask why do you illuminate my day too?
You ask why do I only think of you?
It is very simple my empress, my queen I love true
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Dead March
Under the bunker, where the reek of kerosene
Prepared the marriage rite, leader and whore,
Imperfect kindling even in this wind, burn on.
Someone in uniform hums Brahms. Servants prepare
Eyewitness stories as the night comes down, as smoking coals await
Boots on the stone, the occupying troops. Howl ministers.
Deep in Kyffhauser Mountain's underground,
The Holy Roman Emperor snores on, in sleep enduring
Seven centuries. His long red beard
Grows through the table to the floor. He moves a little.
Far in the labyrinth, low thunder rumbles and dies out.
Twitch and lie still. Is Hitler now in the Himalayas?
We are in Cleveland, or Sioux Falls. The architecture
Seems like Omaha, the air pumped in from Düsseldorf.
Cold rain keeps dripping just outside the bars. The testicles
Burst on the table as the commissar
Untwists the vise, removes his gloves, puts down
Izvestia. (Old saboteurs, controlled by Trotsky's
Scheming and unconquered ghost, still threaten Novgorod.)
--And not far from the pits, these bones of ours,
Burned, bleached, and splintering, are shoveled, ready for the fields.
poem by Weldon Kees
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The Effects of Racism
I was once invited to participate,
In a seminar.
To discuss the effects of racism,
Conducted many miles away in an isolated
Remote area
Distanced from where the effects took place.
Near my home.
And I was to be the only Black to appear,
On this prestigious panel.
I declined the offer.
Since I felt it was ridiculous,
To remove myself away from those 'effects'
While in discussion with others,
Who kept perpetuated the acceptance
Of expressed indifferences.
Plus I had attended another affair,
At the same location...
As others listened intently,
While I explained reasons for wearing my hair
In dreads!
And if it had an affect on my identity.
I was then asked to come again,
Next time I was in the area.
As if these 'settings' would be missed,
In my life!
And those who 'sympathized' with my plight,
Would embrace my need to receive their acceptance.
With an understanding of my internal turmoil.
Which, of course, had to depress,
My sensibilities.
Yes!
Only an eyewitness experiencing this,
Would appreciate the sacrifices I make.
Living amongst those who have not been so 'chosen'
To escape from their deprived and substandard conditions.
Inflicted upon them by those less liberal of deed.
I feel so blessed to be honored,
By those 'willing' to share their comfort zones!
However...
There is something about my own environment,
That affords me the freedom to express less pretentiousness.
Although I must say this,
Being a 'victim' of those who are racists...
Has, at times, been to my benefit.
At least I know where they are coming from.
And I have been given opportunities to avoid them!
With a choice to leave them and their preceptions,
'Impressed' upon their limited consciousness.
And I,
Could leave them alone to glorify their intentions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pen Poetry - Too much to Swallow?
Pen Poetry - Too much to Swallow?
Press progress, profess
Effortless eyewitness exquisiteness,
Nimbleness, neatness. Nevertheless,
Unharness useless unpleasantness
Needless. Nonetheless, nameless
Pettiness process protest.
Ruthless redress regress,
Inaptness, iciness, idleness.
Compress clumsiness, childishness,
Excess eruditeness, erroneousness,
Depthless digress, dumbness.
Possess priceless prowess,
Openness, outwardness, otherworldliness,
Express endless evenness
Terseness, timeless tastefulness,
Re-address random-access role-reversing resourcefulness.
Yin, Yang's yolk yoke. Yes ? … Yes!
Most make believe in anything they read -
'amazing', 'awesome' slip from flippant pen
vow praise, wows raise reaction, and again
to draw attention to their need to feed
from inspiration others gift their greed,
or compensation masking tasking pain
when creativity is on the wane.
Objectives may at times evolve to seed
transparency - yet where all seem agreed
lowest common denominators rein
the fountain which should not need to explain
how this thought led to that poetic steed.
'A mouthful of originality'
too much to swallow proves to minds at sea!
1 August 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Short Leap (you would think for a mature audience)
Summer of 1966 I was
Just out of high school
Newspaper web press apprentice
For the San Francisco Chronicle
Working one night I overheard
Several journeymen
Talking about
If they could
Get up enough money
Get the bets up high enough
Buy him a couple of drinks
See if he really could do it
They wanted to talk
This other jouneyman into
Proving what
He'd been bragging about
Up until this point
It had only been a rumor
No one had seen him do it
No one believed it could be done
The proper amount of cash
Was quickly raised
Even guys from the third floor
Newsroom white shirts and ties got involved
They put in their share of money
Once the word got around
Posted their bets
I put up my two bucks
We gathered in the basement
Where the one-ton rolls
Of blank newsprint are hoisted
Like fat spindles
Spinning
At a maximum speed
Of thirty-thousand
Continuous copies an hour
When the audience had gathered
The lights in the basement were turned off
Only for a moment
So we could all see the electricity
This journeyman's claim to fame
So he had bragged was
He could put one hand
On a spinning newsprint roll
Build up enough static electricity
To be able at the proper moment
To reach into his pants
With his other hand and
Get an arc of electricity to leap
From the frame
Of the metal press
To the tip of his dick
I was too far back in the crowd
To be an actual eyewitness
It still cost me two bucks
I bet he couldn't do it
Some said it was a trick
He must have had a screwdriver
Or a piece of metal
In his pocket
Some swore it was the real thing
They saw the flash of light
The arc leapt - - - that's tall that counted
There was a little arguing over the bets
He ending up collecting his share of the money
Couldn't be convinced
To do it again for double or nothing
Once was more than enough for me too
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Scout's Honor, The Pope & The Football Coach
Oh wow! Seems like every channel has the exact same story,
The most storybook football program has tarnished it’s glory,
At the Mighty Penn State where the winningest coach resides,
Amidst allegations of child sexual abuse the emotions runs high.
Did he or did he not, why wasn’t more done to help protect?
Those in a program designed to rise above hurt and neglect,
Started by an assistance coach whose job was the defense,
Not designed to recruit the adolescent under false pretense.
Joe Paterno has the most football wins by a college coach,
Supposedly his 2 national title program is above reproach,
But, just like the sex abuse scandal within the Boy Scouts,
Along with that powerful Catholic Church, better look out.
The names of the innocent victims abused are at least nine,
And amazingly over a known period of 12-15 years time,
Not through innuendo, hearsay or speculation it was seen,
Yet like the Catholic Church more important was the green.
Again dead presidents again took priority over child welfare,
Under those in authority whose main responsibility is to care,
One 60-year-old man naked with a likewise 10-year-old boy,
Alone it the shower on campus, like a toddler with a new toy.
To do whatever he willed over the child unable to fight back,
How many times before & since helpless when under attack?
But wait this time there’s an eyewitness of the dastardly deed,
Still it’s to no avail because in athletics the bottom line is greed.
Many who knew actually lied to the Grand Jury, okay let’s see,
High-ranking officials resigned & the president of the university?
As the nation ponders who is the next to beheaded by the axe?
Explain why the focus is on football not victims, what a sad fact.
So, should the man who passed the buck be allowed to coach?
Is not the Cardinal who overlooked mass rape now the Pope?
We need a real life Terminator to protect kids like John Connor,
Those who have Arnold’s role failed miserably, Scout’s Honor.
poem by Luke Easter
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The Night Santa Went Crazy
Down in the workshop all the elves were makin toys
For the good gentile girls and the good gentile boys
When the boss busted in, nearly scared em half to death
Had a rifle in his hands and cheap whiskey on his breath
From his beard to his boots he was covered with ammo
Like a big fat drunk disgruntled yuletide rambo
And he smiled and said, with a twinkle in his eye,
merry christmas to all, now youre all gonna die!
The night santa went crazy
The night st. nick went insane
Realized hed been gettin a raw deal
Something finally must have snapped in his brain
Well, the workshop is gone now, he decided to bomb it
Everywhere youll find pieces of cupid and comet
And he tied up his helpers and he held the elves hostage
And he ground up poor rudolph into reindeer sausage
He got dancer and prancer with an old german luger
And he slashed up dasher just like freddie krueger
And he picked up a flamethrower and barbecued blitzen
And he took a big bite and said, it tastes just like chicken!
The night santa went crazy
The night kris kringle went nuts
Now you cant hardly walk around the north pole
Without steppin in reindeer guts
Theres the national guard and the f. b. i.
Theres a van from the eyewitness news
And helicopters circlin round in the sky
And the bullets are flyin, the body counts risin
And everyones dyin to know, oh santa, why?
My my my my my my
You used to be such a jolly guy
Yes, virginia, now santas doing time
In a federal prison for his infamous crime
Hey, little friend, now dont you cry no more tears
Hell be out with good behavior in 700 more years
But now vixens in therapy and donners still nervous
And the elves all got jobs working for the postal service
And they say mrs. claus, shes on the phone every night
With her lawyer negotiating the movie rights
Theyre talkin bout the night santa went crazy
The night st. nicholas flipped
Broke his back for some milk and cookies
Sounds to me like he was tired of gettin gypped
Wo, the night santa went crazy
The night st. nick went insane
Realized hed been gettin a raw deal
Something finally must have snapped in his brain
Wo, something finally must have snapped in his brain
Tell ya, something finally must have snapped... in his brain
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dark
She cradled the coffee cup
her eyes on the door
each entrant receiving an expectant glance
but each time
it was not the one
her glance then
did a sad swan dive
into the swirling mist
above the coffee cup
she hoping to see a future there
in its foaming liquid
which would foretell
he would come
he would come.
She shifted her weight
to one side then the other
lifting her hand
to signal
for another cup to come
to sit beside the faulty one
which had erred;
he'd be there in a minute or two.
But he wasn't.
The new cup would correct that fault
new fumes would swirl
and tell a different tale
of one where he rush through the door
talking of late planes, cab fares
lost cell phones, eager anticipations
breathless sorrys, apologies and regrets
all to lie there on the white linen table top
on which was arrayed two dead mugs
of now cold and stale Colombian roast,
their porcelain profiles lined up
watching a third arrive
in the lengthening night
looking up to encounter my eyes
looking upon her tabled scenario;
she quickly looked away
and then back again
wondering I think,
if I was his messenger
had news of him
who should be in the Lausaus seat
opposite her
surely to rise from the dead
ever expected
but never arrived.
I take my coffee cup emissary
lift it in my palm
my hesitancy overcome
to glide into the Lazurus seat
my cup to my lips
as her's was;
all silent
no words needed
silent communion;
gentle healing
as my cup
came down to the table top
allowing a hesitant hand
to reach out
while her eyes
grew large
peering into the reflected glare
of the night window
seeing him descend
from a taxi-cab
planting a gentle kiss
upon she who smiled
falling back into the dark
and sitting erect
we both watched
her recede
a sideways smile
on her face
and he,
he came to the door
only then to realize
that the loving scene
he thought unseen
was in fact observed
by two
one of whom he knew
and one he did not.
His face wrenched, perplexed;
sin and retribution
joined now at the hip;
a bullet shot bounces back
once shot
and shooter then realizes
he will die
and apologize
simultaneously.
All now frozen;
he standing stock still
recognizing by eyewitness he is lost
turns on his heel
in full retreat
while we two
breathed for the first
our eyes
glide
to lock again
as we both rising simultaneously
to walk out
into the now hopeful dark.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Showman.
The year ‘38 radio show,
But most didn't know.
Not real, just a production,
What a reaction!
Millions hooked,
Panic was booked.
‘Aliens' have landed, yes invaded!
Only a story ‘on air' it was paraded.
Sound of the commentator,
Transfixed every listener.
Panic in his voice, the masses are glued,
Reports of destruction people dead, the show continued.
Interlude of piano,
Events outside unfolding, Orson didn't know!
Building up the suspense,
News reporters ‘on site' frightened and tense.
Real life panic from outside,
Orson was asked to ‘remind.'
That it was just a show,
But his rebellious streak said 'no,
If people are scared, that's good'' he said! !
Further still, the public are fed..
The broadcast continues, more ‘reports' of bad news.
‘Eyewitness' accounts the tension mounts.
Death, destruction, heat rays' killing,
No stopping them, human blood spilling.
Unable to defeat, only option is retreat.
The ‘outside' masses start to panic,
Roads jammed with people and traffic.
Thousands would flee, believing it's ‘reality'! ! !
‘Newsflash' a cylinder is surrounded, good news it sounded.
Hundreds of military obliterated,
The `report' stated…
Broadcast interspersed with pauses of silence,
Then interrupted with bursts of ``Martian violence``
Defeat after defeat, the bulletins concede
Hysteria it would feed.
Meanwhile, events outside, would reveal,
That some are real.
The show was causing a real situation.
Right across the nation.
Terrified people, heading for the hills to hide,
Real life reports of suicide.
Radio reports of objects in other places,
Fearing the worst, ‘handkerchiefs' on faces.
Ready with gas masks,
Driving desperate with full roof racks.
Calls to the police flooded in,
Worries and fears were genuine.
Reality was suspended,
``HALLOWEEN SPECIAL``, the radio show has ended! ! !
Commission held to question, Wells,
Answers of innocence, Orson tells.
He had been totally 'unaware'
He would solemnly declare! !
26/09/06
Showman or Not.
Whatever the accusations and recriminations,
Orson adapted the story with vivid imagination.
Public reaction he could not foresee,
Any fatalities were a tragedy.
Orson the man,
The showman?
27/09/06
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Meaning Embedded In The Bible?
Some Biblical symbolism and prophecy
are easy to interpret some are very deep
in some I am on milk in others I eat meat
Proverbs and Psalms are written
with great love in simple beauty
meaning is usually easy to discern
Gospels of Matthew Mark Luke John
make a reader knowledgeable of Jesus
a miraculous journey discovery to learn
Acts continues Luke's address beginning
with another prologue to excellent Theophilus
statements of fact given full credence among us
eyewitnesses and attendants of the message
delivered to us resolved traced are all things
from start of Christ’s teachings with accuracy
written in logical order is Luke’s Gospel now
an early church testimony continues previous
work in a unity of language style numerous
parallels an emphasis on work of Holy Spirit
the most excellent role of women Christians
even the prophet Joel stressed role of women
“And in the last days, ” God said, “I shall pour
out some of my spirit upon every sort of flesh,
and your sons and daughters will prophecy
and your young men will see visions and your
old men will dream dreams and even upon my
men slaves and upon my women slaves I will
pour out some of my spirit in those days,
and they will prophecy. Acts 2: 17-18.
Luke is an eyewitness participant in events.
Famous 'we passages' events described in first
person narrative reads like Luke’s personal diary
passages indicate Luke was closely associated
with Paul the bulk of Acts deals with evangelizing
efforts of Paul events described end abruptly with
Paul's arrival in Rome his subsequent two-year stay
in about A.D.60! evangelizing is key message
ministry opened gentile inclusion in heavenly
hope (Nero's persecution of Christians; Paul's
death in A.D.64! destruction of the Temple in
70 A.D! are not included) evangelizing is key
Acts is a unique evangelizing account history
of the early church a vital sequel to the story of
the life of Jesus a transition to letters written by
leaders of Christianity (it does not record how
Gospel was taken to Egypt or eastward into Syria
how taught in Rome in Galilee no focus is exclusive)
Peter Paul conversion Jew Gentile to Christianity
Jesus proclaimed prophetically as recorded
in Acts 1: 8 “... YOU will receive power
when the holy spirit arrives upon You, and
YOU shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and
in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of
the earth' and so it was! Gospel spread starting
in Jerusalem to Samaria Judea Syria surrounding
countries the apostles preaching the message of
Jesus' death and resurrection a little his teachings.
The sacred message God anointed Jesus Christ
with holy spirit and power to die for your sins
God raised Jesus up restored Christ to heaven
then came Holy Spirit motivating guiding
'The Acts of the Holy Spirit' twenty-seven
years from Ascension of Jesus Pentecost
to conversion of Christ’s chosen vessel Saul; chief
persecutor of Jesus into Paul; the aggressive
preacher of our Messiah in synagogue missionary
work; arrested in Jerusalem; trial journey to Rome;
declaration by Paul; in capital of empire; for over two
years preaching in Rome; message is going to nations
Holy Spirit guides the plan of salvation; in the face
of Jewish and Roman opposition through believers;
humble mild in spirit stressing message of salvation
poem by Terence George Craddock
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