Closedown
The incunabula of television,
Crystal palace, lipstick and clipped tones,
Muffin the Mule, then finally the flicks
crammed into tubes, inferior Bibles, cloned,
invaded all our evenings. Television
will kill the cinema! doom-pundits cried,
erroneously. We, mesmerised, pie-eyed,
in small square post-utility sitting rooms,
witnessed the small square triumph of the box,
Stevenson's toy theatre, exaggerating life.
Coach became pumpkin at eleven o'clock,
rooms shrank, books closed, bare remnants of the plot.
Goodnight. Remember to switch off your set.
The screen collapsed into a small white dot.
Split Screen (Red Squirrel Press)
poem by Sally Evans
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Related quotes
Big Square People
Another square day
And another square week
And another square year
And another square lifetime
If you turn me on like you turn it on
Big square people
If you look at me the way you watch tv
Big square people
Youre digging it round when it should be square
Big square people
When the screen is blank theres no-one there
Big square people
Ive seen you watching it day and night
You dont miss the big game or big fight
All those dimensions all those race (? )
Come in action (? )
The worlds full of greed and envy and lust
If they dont get you the (? ) must
Turn on at daybreak before youre awake
I turn it off now
Big square people
(repeat)
Turn of the brightness, the colour and sound
The big square people in sensorround
Before too long the damage is done
To big square people television is such fun
They come in action from every direction
With every booster and (? )
Theyre sending signals from satellite sky
Soon youre on tv and you dont know why
Hey, come on down, youre looking good
If they said jump I really think that you would
cause tv is God and heavens hollywood
Youre digging it round when it should be square
Big square people
When the screen is blank theres no-one there
Big square people
Get up from the chair you look like a slug (? )
Take the tip from the tv go and find a job
But there are no jobs, there is no pay
but thats not what the people on the tv say
They say to me Ill be what you wanna be,
Lets join the army maybe see the sea
Turn of the brightness, the colour and sound
Turn of the (? ) lets going around
Turn on at daybreak before youre awake
Lets turn it off now before its too late
(turn it off !)
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black & White Television
I looked in the mirror then
Saw my face in a dream.
With eyes sharp as diamonds
Blessed with clear vision.
Things were not as they seemed.
Black and white television
Stared back from the wall.
Is that my life?
Am I here at all?
Down in the high road, see
Motor cavalcades glide
Past shopwindow dressers
Desperately covering
All the parts they can hide.
Black and white television
Stares at me again.
Is that their lives?
Even dummies pretend.
The truth is so hard to deny.
The answer is here.
The screen never lies.
Black and white television.
Its the right television.
Show me its all a dream tonight.
The boys on the corner sulk
In their suzuki haze.
In primary colours
(each year more startling)
But they still fade to grey
On black and white television.
Its sweeping the land.
Is that your life?
Do you understand?
The truth is so hard to deny.
The answer is here.
The screen never lies.
Black and white television.
Back the right television.
Black and white television.
Hard to fight television.
Show me its all a dream tonight.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Couches Consume
Couches consume hoards of drones In there dying rooms In square 'homes'
Television sucks them in
Lost souls dreaming of what could have been
And yes I still dream while awake
As I murder TV true life I will make.
poem by Jeffrey Barnes
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Rather than disliking theatre, I've expressed a preference for television because it tends to deal in its small way much more with issues and is able to reach a broader church of people than theatre.
quote by Christopher Eccleston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Theres A Small Hotel
(richard rodgers/lorentz hart)
Theres a small hotel
With a wishing well
I wish that we were there, together
Theres a bridal suite
Two rooms, soft and sweet
I wish that we were there together
Looking through the window
You can see a distant steeple
Not a sign of people who needs people
When the wishing well
Says goodnight sleep well
Well thank that small hotel, together
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Talk
Its not the chapters he reads when youre feeling low down
Its not the touch of his skin when you kiss him goodnight
Its not the money he spends when you want to buy a daydream
And not that miracle smile that makes the sky bright
Its not the way his hands behave
When youve turned out the light
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you want to fly, yes it does
Its not the way he believes in you like a religion
Its not the thrill that you get when hes holding you tight
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen (just like that)
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
Information, heart and soul, a whisper, a word
Confessions that have to be heard
Small small talk
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you make it rock so heavenly
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you seem to talk so heavenly
Big words...
Small talk...
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the one hand, young theatre directors were coming to television theatre, because they wanted to get closer to the cinema, despite having studied and worked for the theatre.
quote by Andrzej Wajda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sliders, Addicted I Am
Something so small and square, edible
Be so good and addicting
Travel 100 plus miles for them
Do they call our name or brain wash us
The small square buns so soft and warm
They could be dinner rolls
The grilled square patty cook so well
Juicy and delicious, the right amount of onions
I am so addicted to them
Not just one, maybe two, or go for the six pack
They play with my mind
I see the signs as i drive down the Interstate
They must know when I am near
I feel a magnetic pull
I crave them bad, can't get enough
Ole the White building is in site
Do I stop or do I pass
My stomach says yes, the heart no
I do stop almost always
Those burgers are my life
Ole to the White Castle Burger
They took my heart and stomach
I need to go to Sliders Anonymous
The addiction is bad, very bad
It takes over my mind
I go to dangerous places just to get them
The fixation is so over whelming
Ole to the Slider, My true love food
So juicy, so small, so good
My body will pay later, now that I am Full
Sliders, Sliders, My mind dreams of eating you
One more time, Do I stop, or do I pass
White Castle, a Addict I am
People beware the Sliders are addicting
Give me more, My tummy is bursting
Just one more before I go
Sliders, I love you So
poem by Michael Peterson
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Di Vinci Airport, Roma July 1996
Sitting in a leather seat,
It is two in the morning
The television is blaring
Entertaining those who wait.
The Carbinieri have already checked passports
Perhaps there is a problem
Perhaps this is normal procedure.
The hour bends the head
And I sleep amidst the luggage
My belongings holding me
Like the Arab women, to my left
With two small sons.
Awakened by music
The television has Leonard Bernstein
Giving a lecture in a tight black suit,
Aaron Copeland is conducting, Appalachian Spring,
Both men are now dead.
In Rome, they are still on the television.
poem by K. Carlton Johnson
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Aiming Back
I have seen up;
I have seen down
I have been sideways
crammed into my room;
felt small
in small places;
cried dry tears
and lay face down
from embarrasments
earned and not earned;
crept into places too small for me
and feel a thousand tiny cuts a day.
Today I leave and aim my self home
where there are people who love me.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Square Peg, Round Hole
He's a square peg in a round hole
Misfit in a slick world
Don't play the game
Don't do what he's told
He's a square peg in a round hole
Square peg don't care
The bright lights he's not there
Catch the shadows see him slip away
Square peg that's what they say
Square peg, Suare peg
Square peg, you have got to be strong
Square peg, he's got his own song
Square peg, I'll see you around
Square peg, face down
Square peg, round hole
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curtain
Blank screen of doom find me wonderful words,
nothing fancy just words that have a resonance in
my mind and gladden my heart.
I remember a boy of fourteen, every morning at six
he milked, five cows, by hand, leaning his heads on
the cow´s womb he dreamt of Africa
Africa, but I met my wife she is from Congo, so you
may say I know Africa intimately but
that was not what the boy was dreaming of.
O, blank screen do not let me fall into banalities,
it is just I like to remember as much as I can
before the screen the curtain draws the screen.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Reading the paper in the WC without light
Torches should be
square or rectangle
where I can
put them down
and they won't roll
and break
on the ground.
Dear treasured reader
my dilemma has been solved
most satisfactorily
with a small square LED torch
until the power is back on.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Come, Pretty School-Girl!
On this rolling planet ever have you seen
A home so like a palace waiting for its queen? --
A dwelling place so fair,
So fill'd with treasures rare,
As the little white cottage on Evergreen Square?
Come, pretty school girl! lay your books aside;
Yes graduate tomorrow -- tomorrow be my bride;
My fortune share,
And reign queen there,
In the little white cottage on Evergreen Square.
Red as are the roses climbing on its wall,
Your cheeks of richer crimson shall out-bloom them all.
Your eyes (beyond compare)
A brighter gleam shall wear,
In the little white cottage on Everygreen Square.
Flow'rs of rarest fragrance all the year shall bloom,
And singing birds make music in your chosen room.
Come, breathe its balmy air!
Come, charm away my care,
In the little white cottage on Everygreen Square.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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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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How to Quash a Rebellion
Oh crap, I think the populace
Have gone and got some impetus
Let's dumb them down with more TV
They love that television screen
Or just put cocaine on the street
So if they're high, they can't stampede
I tell you what, this will work best:
Let's post another terrorist threat!
poem by Matt Pocock
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Cut Throat
Delia Demoat cut her husband’s
Throat. Delia slit it clean. She held
His hair tight with her small hand
In a firm grip. There was little fight.
Unexpected and sudden. He slumped
In the chair blood shooting across
And spraying the TV screen. Delia
Released his hair and stood back
The bloody knife in her right hand.
She was shaking, her hands shook.
On the floor by the armchair where
He sat a small book. Blood-soaked
Pages and cover. A gift from his lover.
She dropped the knife, stared at the
TV screen, some I Love Lucy show,
Canned laughter, black and white.
Flickering images. She peered over
The back of the armchair. He was
Slumped bloodied there. She ached,
The bruises showed on arms, her split
Lips mouthed words. Delia breathed
Hard, spat on his head, the phlegm
Sat there on his hair; she sniffed air,
Smelt cigar smoke, his aftershave.
She looked up. Lucy gazed at her on
The screen, canned laughter once more,
Surreal; show over, she peed on the floor.
poem by Terry Collett
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Blonde curly head
When you run joyous into the garden
the whole world lies open before you
while it's autumn, leaves are stripped from branches
and you look great-eyed at the small lizard
where it hides in a small hole in the wall,
and you notice a pool with big Koi fish
that watches you from beneath the water of the pond
and then you try to touch and feel
with your small hands and the water is cool,
while you catch a small frog
and press that animal against your cheek,
while it feels as if eternity is lingering there
and suddenly it jumps from your wet hands
as a strange wet thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Out of the box
Four walls, compact kitchen.
Looking outside
through the television.
Jump in car, closed in.
Crime on streets,
maybe safe with in?
Work all day in a square,
Type on boxes
Eyes don't move, just stare.
Have we planned this,
Or have we just forgotten,
Is there more to life than
What it's all boxed in?
poem by Josh Alfred
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