Problems Of A Journalist
“I want to get away somewhere and re-read Proust,”
Said an editor of Fortune to a man on Time.
But the fire roared and died, the phoenix quacked like a goose,
And all roads to the country fray like shawls
Outside the dusk of suburbs. Pacing the halls
Where mile-high windows frame a dream with witnesses,
You taste, fantast and epicure, the names of towns along the coast,
Black roadsters throbbing on the highways blue with rain
Toward one lamp, burning on those sentences.
“I want to get away somewhere and re-read Proust,”
Said an editor of Newsweek to a man on Look.
Dachaus with telephones, Siberias with bonuses.
One reads, as winter settles on the town,
The evening paper, in an Irving Place café.
poem by Weldon Kees
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Which editor? I can't think of one editor I worked with as an editor. The various companies did have editors but we always acted as our own editor, so the question has no answer.
Another Plan
Editor Owen, of San Jose,
Commonly known as 'our friend J.J.'
Weary of scribbling for daily bread,
Weary of writing what nobody read,
Slept one day at his desk and dreamed
That an angel before him stood and beamed
With compassionate eyes upon him there.
Editor Owen is not so fair
In feature, expression, form or limb
But glances like that are familiar to him;
And so, to arrive by the shortest route
At his visitor's will he said, simply: 'Toot.'
'Editor Owen,' the angel said,
'Scribble no more for your daily bread.
Your intellect staggers and falls and bleeds,
Weary of writing what nobody reads.
Eschew now the quill-in the coming years
Homilize man through his idle ears.
Go lecture!' 'Just what I intended to do,'
Said Owen. The angel looked pained and flew.
Editor Owen, of San Jose,
Commonly known as 'our friend J.J.'
Scribbling no more to supply his needs,
Weary of writing what nobody reads,
Passes of life each golden year
Speaking what nobody comes to hear.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But for me, being an editor I've been an editor of all kinds of books being an editor of poetry has been the way in which I could give a crucial part of my time to what I love most.
quote by Peter Davison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
High Noon
A leather life from the prairie to the blue, blue ocean
A one horse town of promised gold and western fortune
Oh, token slug of bourbon
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
But it only happened in film
Hot dust and lust, a dawn to dusk can lead to danger
I bought a lover locket - a barroom dolly -
Bathtub stranger (swear to me calamity again!)
Sasperella
Red neck fella
Lace umbrella
Be my girl!
When I find the west is won
Got to keep on rolling on and on
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
Mile after mile
High noon - building a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The writer who can't do his job looks to his editor to do it for him, though he won't dream of sharing his royalties with that editor.
quote by Alfred A. Knopf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Editor
tonight
he will read many poems
and he cannot sleep because as always there will be many poems from me. he asked for them anyway. and everything i have in my mind
will always be poems.
the editor is an insomniac.
and from the hundred that i emailed for his perusal.
i guess. i need only to see one
that he thinks deserves
his choice.
i laugh. how can he ever find that piece of little garbage
as art form?
funny. dear editor, everything is a fake.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jeduthan Hawley
There would be a knock at the door
And I would arise at midnight and go to the shop,
Where belated travelers would hear me hammering
Sepulchral boards and tacking satin.
And often I wondered who would go with me
To the distant land, our names the theme
For talk, in the same week, for I've observed
Two always go together.
Chase Henry was paired with Edith Conant;
And Jonathan Somers with Willie Metcalf;
And Editor Hamblin with Francis Turner,
When he prayed to live longer than Editor Whedon;
And Thomas Rhodes with widow McFarlane;
And Emily Sparks with Barry Holden;
And Oscar Hummel with Davis Matlock;
And Editor Whedon with Fiddler Jones;
And Faith Matheny with Dorcas Gustine.
And I, the solemnest man in town,
Stepped off with Daisy Fraser.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
inside the Italian cafe
you are seated
fronting me
beside me is my
wife sipping her
cappuccino
i look at you closely
you are beautiful as usual
long black hair
and soft fingers caressing each lock
an old night
and french music playing inside
an italian resto-cafe
i guess life is like that
an instance when one cannot do anything
except to gaze
my wife says
the cappuccino tastes much better in this cozy place
and you look at me
as though i am one kind of fire burning and burning
and you are fire too
and the whole place is burning too
outside the rain is heavy
and some cars are stopping on a traffic jam
a girl wearing blue jeans
gets inside the restobar and she is wet all over
here it is
this fire burning and burning still
water from her breast
drips and the floor is wet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I find it's impossible for me to read Proust.
quote by Norman MacCaig
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Take Me Home, Country Roads
(bill danoff/taffy nivert/john denver)
Country roads,take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia,mountain mama
Take me home,country roads
Almost heaven,west virginia
Blue ridge mountain,shenandoe river
Life is old there,older than the trees
Younger than the mountains
Growing like the breeze
Country roads,take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia,mountain mama
Take me home,country roads
All my memories gather round her
Mine is lady,stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine
Teardrop in my eye
Country roads,take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia,mountain mama
Take me home,country roads
I hear her voice in the morning
Now she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And driving down the road I get a feeling
That I shouldve been home yesterday,yesterday
Country roads,take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia,mountain mama
Take me home,country roads
Country roads,take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia,mountain mama
Take me home,country roads
Take me home,country roads
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Subdued Editor
Pope-choker Pixley sat in his den
A-chewin' upon his quid.
He thought it was Leo Thirteen, and then
He bit it intenser, he did.
The amber which overflew from the cud
Like rivers which burst out of bounds
'Twas peculiar grateful to think it blood
A-gushin' from Papal wounds.
A knockin' was heard uponto the door
Where some one a-waitin' was.
'Come in,' said the shedder of priestly gore,
Arrestin' to once his jaws.
The person which entered was curly of hair
And smilin' as ever you see;
His eyes was blue, and uncommon fair
Was his physiognomee.
And yet there was some'at remarkable grand
And the editor says as he looks:
'Your Height' (it was Highness, you understand,
That he meant, but he spoke like books)
'Your Height, I am in. I'm the editor man
Of this paper-which is to say,
I'm the owner, too, and it's alway ran
In the independentest way!
'Not a damgaloot can interfere,
A-shapin' my course for me:
This paper's (and nothing can make it veer)
Pixleian in policee!'
'It's little to me,' said the sunny youth,
'If journals is better or worse
Where I am to home they won't keep, in truth,
The climate is that perverse.
'I've come, howsomever, your mind to light
With a more superior fire:
You'll have naught hencefor'ard to do but write,
While I sets by and inspire.
'We'll make it hot all round, bedad!'
And his laughture was loud and free.
'The devil!' cried Pixley, surpassin' mad.
'Exactly, my friend-that's me.'
So he took a chair and a feather fan,
And he sets and sets and sets,
Inspirin' that humbled editor man,
Which sweats and sweats and sweats!
All unavailin' his struggles be,
And it's, O, a weepin' sight
To see a great editor bold and free
Reducted to sech a plight!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Editor becomes kind of your mother. You expect love and encouragement from an Editor.
quote by Jackie Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
People Who Read People Magazin
(Kinky Friedman)
Well, I'm here to say I got turned away from Studio 54
Back to neon lights and lonely nights and saw-dust on the floor
And if she ever loved me, she don't love me anymore,
And if anyone should ask me, here's who I'm singing for:
For the people who read People Magazine,
For the soap opera lovers, for the home-town bowling team,
For everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
Now if you're too New York for Texas, too Texas for L.A.
You been chasing trends like rainbow ends but you're always just a song away
And if the White House wouldn't have ya, play in every little honky-tonk and bar
The good Lord made the Heavens, ah but He never made a star.
No, its the people who read People Magazine,
It's the soap opera lovers, its the home-town bowling team,
It's everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
And to tell you the truth this telephone booth gets lonesome in the rain,
But son, I'm 21 in Nashville and I'm 43 in Maine.
And when your mama gets home, would you tell her I phoned, it'd take a life-time to explain
That I'm a country-picker with a bumper-sticker that says: ?God Bless John Wayne?.
And bless the people who read People Magazine,
Bless the soap opera lovers, bless the home-town bowling team,
Bless everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
Bless the people who read people who read People Magazine.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Town By The Sea
Here only the air that you breathe it is free
All else you pay for in the Town by the sea
The sea air is cleaner you do hear some say
Yet few happy faces for to brighten one's day.
For people from the suburbs a weekend get away
From the noise and pollution they live with every day
Two days by the sea does cost them two days pay
Sea-side towns not cheap to stay in such is life some might say.
The old town by the sea is a bright and breezy place
Though few people here with a smile on their face
Mid sunday afternoon their drive back to the suburbs is about to begin
Their two day break went so fast in life 'tis hard to win.
Even in the Winter a quiet time of year
Accomodation in the town by the sea seems quite dear
So few smiling faces around me I do see
And only the air that you breathe does seem free.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Did You Read The Morning Paper
(Nickolas Ashford/Valerie Simpson/R. Monica)
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headline
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
There on the front page was a picture
Of a crowd as they watched a parade passing by
And through the haze of last nights sleep
Something familiar caught my eye
There was a couple looking so much in love, yes
They had a front line view
And as I pulled the paper closer
I realized standing next to her it was you
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headline
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
Now I know why you've been working late each night
And no longer have desire to ever hold me tight
And your busy, busy schedule was all a lie
Oh, even the dream with a bonus, oh just another alibi
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headline
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
Did you get the news today
Did you read the morning paper
Isn't the picture very clear
Where do we go from here
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headlines
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
Oh, what now
Did you read the morning paper
Did you get the news today
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Did You Read The Morning Papers?
(nickolas ashford/valerie simpson/r. monica)
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headline
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
There on the front page was a picture
Of a crowd as they watched a parade passing by
And through the haze of last nights sleep
Something familiar caught my eye
There was a couple looking so much in love, yes
They had a front line view
And as I pulled the paper closer
I realized standing next to her it was you
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headline
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
Now I know why youve been working late each night
And no longer have desire to ever hold me tight
And your busy, busy schedule was all a lie
Oh, even the dream with a bonus, oh just another alibi
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headline
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
Did you get the news today
Did you read the morning paper
Isnt the picture very clear
Where do we go from here
Did you read the morning paper
Did you see the front headlines
Did you read the morning paper
Baby let me lend you mine
Oh, what now
Did you read the morning paper
Did you get the news today
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You know, people always think if you start out as a film editor, you shoot less footage. Actually, just the opposite is true. I tend to grab as much coverage as I can because as a former editor I know how important it is to have those few frames.
quote by Robert Wise
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I saw you walking around
I saw you walking around
in Tuscan streets
between yellow painted villas
on roads of cobbled stone.
The sky was light blue
the Mediterranean a darker hue
and all the places
had red tiled roofs
and some balconies
cordoned off by black iron rails.
Somehow your soul
was lost in Italy
while you walked
through fields of purple lavender
smiling lovely and being high
on the sweet perfume.
At dusk the light shone bright yellow
from windows all over
and a little later
we drank sweet red wine
at a café
and borrowing a guitar
you singed along
with the performers in the street
and I know it’s great to dream
about life in romantic places everywhere
but I am here and drink my tea
and write these lines down.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
People Who Read People Magazine
(kinky friedman)
Well, Im here to say I got turned away from studio 54
Back to neon lights and lonely nights and saw-dust on the floor
And if she ever loved me, she dont love me anymore,
And if anyone should ask me, heres who Im singing for:
For the people who read people magazine,
For the soap opera lovers, for the home-town bowling team,
For everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
Now if youre too new york for texas, too texas for l.a.
You been chasing trends like rainbow ends but youre always just a song away
And if the white house wouldnt have ya, play in every little honky-tonk and bar
The good lord made the heavens, ah but he never made a star.
No, its the people who read people magazine,
Its the soap opera lovers, its the home-town bowling team,
Its everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
And to tell you the truth this telephone booth gets lonesome in the rain,
But son, Im 21 in nashville and Im 43 in maine.
And when your mama gets home, would you tell her I phoned, itd take a life-time to explain
That Im a country-picker with a bumper-sticker that says: god bless john wayne.
And bless the people who read people magazine,
Bless the soap opera lovers, bless the home-town bowling team,
Bless everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
Bless the people who read people who read people magazine.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I lived through a classic publishing story. My editor was fired a month before the book came out. The editor who took it over already had a full plate. It was never advertised. We didn't get reviewed in any major outlets.
quote by Anita Diament
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!