Sunday Morning
The television show
Hosted by Charles Kuralt
And now Charles Osgood
Is a weekly meditation
On all things right, good
And quirky with humanity.
These producers, directors, reporters
And hosts spotlight and interview
What we should see and hear
Outside the news reports
And what ‘they say’
Intrusions into life on planet
Earth (on my copy there's a circle around this)
From Art in a museum
To Art on a stage
Poets of the spoken word
And poets of music and song
What’s cookin, shakin, concerning
And making people smile along the road
From the Midwest to Texas, New York,
Chicago, Florida, DC and California.
Then they close with a beautiful moment
In nature designed to teach us to
Care about all of that too.
Now, you can pretty well guess
Where I’ll be next Sunday Morning. 2011
Related quotes
Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I recognize that I had a good deal of good luck in my life. I came along at a time when it was pretty easy to get a job in journalism. I went to work at CBS News when I was about 22, and within a year or so was reporting on the air.
quote by Charles Kuralt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is beautiful but people are crazy.
quote by Charles Osgood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why People Become Poets Poets Dreams
have you ever wondered why people become poets?
poets have been around since the beginning of time
and they have been mostly men, speaking of their loves, life
and emotions.
famous love stories, plays, movies, all seen thru a poets eyes.
just as the centuries have gone by and everything in life has changed
so have the poets.
there is now as many and if not more female poets
than male poets. why? because they are more sensitive to emotions
and are not afraid to show or speak of it, unlike men who want to
show the 'MACHO MAN IMAGE'
poets see life thru different eyes for different situations
and write about it in so many forms, and see the light and
the darkness in everything, including the good and bad.
it may be just one word, or a line, or verse
that enters their mind to start creating
what will become a poem,
what is the poets dream that you will create?
a love story, a sad story, one of fear or hate, or passion
one of beauty, or war.
so many things to choose from- but it doesn’t matter
what you may choose, you must take the first step.
just as reading this is the first step to start on your way to writing poetry
and opening up your mind and soul.
touching other people and receiving comments
and feedback on your writings will help you to improve
on your weak areas.
some people do it because they are looking for fortune and fame
while others want to communicate with others, and others
just to see their names on something other than
a bill being paid.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(V – 2010) The Poet’s Nature
Reflecting Nature’s various hues
Poets write colourfully.
Echoing Nature’s innate songs
Poets write musically.
Learning from Nature’s righteous laws
Poets write more sensibly.
Drawing from Nature’s spotless love
Poets write more humanely.
Living with Nature’s poetic life
Poets write living poetry.
My Life
When I was young
I used to dream of going far
Having my once, in a lifetime change
To prove I was a star.
A thousand times you stood
In the wings
Dreaming it was me,
I heard the people going wild
But it was just my fantasy
Life is a dance
And baby were just players
So stand up and smile
And dont be afraid
Chorus:
This is my night
This is my song
Standing right here
Out on the stage
Is where I belong
This is my song
This is my night
Standing right here
Out on the stage
In the spotlight
I traveled the road
Wherever the road would lead
I made mistakes but i
Wouldnt quit
I made myself believe
Dreams come true
For those who dream
So one day you can say
The music be the fruit of life
And let the music play.
Life is a dance
And baby were just players
So stand up and smile
And dont be afraid
Chorus:
Bridge: (8x)
This is my life
This is my life
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was a little boy I used to borrow my father's hat, and make a press card to stick in the hat band. That was the way reporters were always portrayed in the movies.
quote by Charles Kuralt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0264 Toothpaste tubes and toilet seats
Why do I hate you? Let me count the ways...
Oh I could list them.... but no - not the trivialities
that drive us into impotent blind rage
committed daily by our partners, children, (parents?) , room-mates -
I, you, we, all have that list...
but I sing the joyous list of so-called 'minor' poets
who simply spell out, so uproariously
our petty human weaknesses,
domestic inadequacies, all the idiot joy
of living together while apart...
poets who'll never be on someone else's list
of 'ground-breaking' avant-garde great names
who with new neighbourings of words and sounds
expand humanity's poetic vision of the tears of things;
map out the undiscovered mind of years that are yet to be -
no - poets who, living all our lives for us,
confirm, with smiling banal truisms, this comedy,
our shared humanity; humans being humans;
wishing that we might change, but not too soon, not yet...
and as we smile and groan as poets with their skills
list that familiar daily stress and strain -
the still, mad music of humanity -
love arises.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't think one should ever come to my stage of life and have to look back and say, Gosh. I wish I hadn't spent all those years doing that job I was never really interested in.
quote by Charles Kuralt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace Poets
We are a bunch of peace poets
We hate war and sing songs of peace
Poets of the planet, come and join us
Our pens are now much stronger than weapons
It roars more than a gun.
Planet belong to peace lovers
Warmongers have no place on this planet
Days of warmongers are over
We are a bunch of peace poets
We sing songs of peace.
Oh poets of this planet
Come and join us
We shall make our planet a heaven
Warmongers are dead forever.
poem by Devil Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the world of poetry there are would-be poets, workshop poets, promising poets, lovesick poets, university poets, and a few real poets.
quote by James Broughton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In television, everything is gone with the speed of light, literally. It is no field for anybody with intimations of immortality.
quote by Charles Kuralt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's really an optimistic show. I think most of the people in this country are optimistic, too.
quote by Charles Osgood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Years of hard struggle
It takes years of hard struggle
To survive in this competitive jungle
Everybody adore some position and smile
Some of the flowers have to stand alone for while
Who will notice them in wilderness?
Who will grant them togetherness?
They have to gain position for survival
No one may make the way for their arrival
Some one may up by their natural presence
They will be noticed easily by their absence
Everybody may miss rose and its color
Even though others may have good smell and odor
Poets are like “touch me not” and may not seek
Some may prefer to shy away and feel very weak
They want to put their presence on big scale
But small fishes are swallowed by big whale
How many turtle eggs survive in race?
Not many I suppose on rough face
Yet they march to race on for long time
I think over it silently sometimes
So every species has distinct feature
They are recognized and identified for sure
But where is the coming up of infant poets?
Have they been pushed to remain quiet?
This is toughest race in world
You can rule it with hot temper or cold
No sentiments or pure imagery may come to rescue
The highest slot is reserved for only few
The poet is beautiful animal with no horns
If he is passing on road people may warn
May give some piece of advice for ugly show
As he may unaware of self but in hurry to go
Poets are generally termed or knows as whimsical
Their tone may be literary and little musical
On stage they may put different and powerful show
The powerful oratory may excel like river water flow
Hardly few people may know about his existence
That too will be known on somebody’s insistence
The creative work may remain confined to golden books
As beautiful and testy food will not be enjoyed by cooks
I wish poets to have small horns
Small species not to be touched and warned
Let them groom in some unrestricted area
Not to beg to any body and making unnecessary plea
Let us create enough space and free air
Let them breathe in and find means very fair
Let them not bogged down in word jugglery
How the elephant looks giant with ivory?
I wish it not to happen
It comes to them one by one
Everybody has events in turn
How best can we offer in return?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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TV critics, who traditionally hate television and make their living writing about it, often didn't like what I did on the air.
quote by Charles Kuralt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laughter, The Best Medicine?
what's in a sound, thaT HAS NO WORD?
laughing in enjoyment, or at a spirit broken
laughter brings us closer, or for a fight will gird
laughter has a resonance, meaning many things unspoken
being me, i may laugh, i may cry
but i will only half the time laugh with most of you
the laughter that a good man, a good joke may buy
is the laughter that soars joyful in skies of blue
the laughter that needs a victim? maliscious and so wrong,
you're resonance is dissonance to this poets soul
in this errant, poetic whim, this sad and mournful song
i speak of sounds emanating from a hole
not a heart.
hope, Emily says, sings without words
like the morning majesty of a symphany of birds
nobody i would condone, laughs at birds, only
somehow, with them, but if they're hurt, like maybe you or me
have a poets heart, and share some hope
what may start with a smile
at hurt feelings, or a snit, or a mope
might become a laugh, in a little while
i've heard of many a hopeful smile
try one on
before the music is all gone
and you're left at break of dawn
alone
laughing...
poem by Tommy Lee Rage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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California
Sitting in a park in Paris, France
Reading the news and it sure looks bad
They won't give peace a chance
That was just a dream some of us had
Still a lot are left to see
But I wouldn't want to stay here
It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here
Oh, but california
California I'm coming home
I'm going to see the folks I dig
I'll even kiss a sunset pig
California I'm coming home
I met a redneck on a Grecian isle
Who did the goat dance very well
He gave me back my smile
But he kept my camera to sell
Oh the rogue, the red red rogue
He cooked good omelettes and stews
And I might have stayed on with him there
But my heart cried out for you, California
California I'm coming home
Oh make me feel good rock'n roll band
I'm your biggest fan
California, I'm coming home
Chorus:
Oh it gets so lonely
When you're walking
And the streets are full of strangers
All the news of home you read
Just gives you the blues
Just gives you the blues
So I bought me a ticket
I caught a plane to Spain
Went to a party down a red dirt road
There were lots of pretty people there
Reading rolling stone, reading vogue
They said, how long can you hang around?
I said a week, maybe two,
Just until my skin turns brown
Then I'm going home to California
California I'm coming home
Will you take me as I am
Strung out on another man
California I'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
Yeah
Take me as I am
Will you
Will you
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Deceased Poets Of Nature
Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today
They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see
Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.
Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Planet Earth
Only came outside to watch the nightfall with the rain
I heard you making patterns rhyme like
Some new romantic looking for the tv sound
Youll see Im right some other time look now
Look all around, theres not sign of life
Voices, another sound
Can you hear me now?
This is planet earth, youre looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This is planet earth
My head is stuck on something precious let me know
If youre coming down to land is there
Anybody out there trying to get through?
My eyes are so cloudy I cant see you
Look now, look all around, theres no sign of
Life voices, another sound
Can you hear me now?
This is planet earth
Youre looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This is planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This calling planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This is planet earth
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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