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Ballad Political Poems | Ballad Poems About Political

These Ballad Political poems are examples of Ballad poems about Political. These are the best examples of Ballad Political poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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The New Jerusalem


Have thou ever seen such a concordance?
A new relation between man and beast
For beyond these hostile hills lies a place where the boisterous Bacchus feast
Imagine the fruits of Adam grow on a common tree
Where all would merry, ebony and ivory
Slave and free
Imagine the seven rivers meet at a widen strait
For today good has triumph over evil 
Love burns up hate
The New Jerusalem is not a truce between Zion and Arabia.
Nor is it the fall of another great wall
It is not the end to man’s vicious battles fought with monstrous infernos, sulphur and thunder
But it encompasses all

Have thou ever seen such an enterprise?
Where the stars would rejoice
For the lachrymal clouds would start to sing and dance at the slightest hearing of the voice
Oh! Pure ecstasy! Elysium devour me please
For a lamb has made it so
Imagine a land replenished with trees, gardens and lakes
Where untold pearls and diamonds grow
Imagine the Pandora’s box once unlocked now thrown into its abysmal grave
For a thousand pieces of silver, gold and mace
Is no equal to the deeds of the brave
The New Jerusalem is not the new –found romance between Babylonia and the Eagle.
Nor is it the coalescence of Prussia
It is all that is said and will be said
And not the rebirth of Russia

By Akanbi Olusegun  
Copyright 2003.

Copyright © Olusegun Akanbi | Year Posted 2010

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The Candidate

He speaks with charisma and style
He portrays a commendable role
His words seek to charm and beguile
But who should we really control?

His words lift the beat of our hearts
We listen with passions on fire,
He taps into that very part
That leads us to bow and admire. 

But his make up comes off in the night
In back rooms devoted to schemes
That seek to convince us he’s right.
 For the next day he rises and gleams. 

The façade is but glad wrap of fame
It clings to a surface of shame,
It masks every pock mark and crack
It is hard to see past the tack.

We see through the eyes in our skull.
Not through the eyes deep within.
By the time the façade starts to dull
We are lost; for deceit is what wins.

The candidate primps in his cloak;
He is hoist with a self made petard
Mark well how he carries the yoke.
It is us who will find the way hard.

Copyright © Lansell Taudevin | Year Posted 2016

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Martyr for the Unorthodox word

If I had over 10,000 dreams You'd be the only thing my mind could see Judgment couldn't be real Succumbing to the fear of this cold life Find a way to break through The self-destruction of wordly delusions Don't tell me I've lived so long in a lovely illusion Break me down until we find a Nirvanic state Then bring me a savior from transgressions An atoning sacrifice Send down to me a messenger for me to submit to Bring me the truth to break through The delusion Bring me the messenger to explain it all And let me leave behind Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

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Poem by Kasiananthan on the Tamil Diaspora and Eelam, trans by T Wignesan

The Parrot and the Woodpecker may turn...
    [Sung by TEnicayccal Cellappa]        Translated by T.Wignesan
mAnkiliyum marankottiyum                    The parrot and the woodpecker

   kUtutirumpa tatayillai                             their nests to regain  nothing waylays

nAnkal mattum ulakattilEyE                    Only we  in all this world

   nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai                        our homeland to seek may not turn      

   nAtutirumpa mutiyavillai                        our homeland to seek may not turn

                            [Above refrain repeated twice]

cinkalavan pataivAnil                               From skies filled with Sinhalese planes

  neruppai alli corikiratu                             fire tumbles down in seething showers 

enkal uyir tamil Elam                              Our lifeblood   our Tamil Eelam

  cutukAtAy erikiratu                                      a simmering graveyard on fire


tAykatarap pillaikalin                               While mothers rave in pain  children’s

 nencukalaik kilikkinrAn                             breasts  the oppressor tears apart

kAyyAkum munnE ilam                           Long before they might ripen    tender

  pincukalai alikkirAn                                  the buds crushed from burgeoning


pettavankal UrilE                                   Those who begot us back home

 Enku rAnku pAcattilE                              tossing  turning in their longing for us

ettanai nAl kArttiruppOm                       For how many days might we linger on

 atuttavan tEcattilE                                  in the other man’s refugee land

unnavum mutiyavillai                                Without proper food

 urankavum mutiyavillai                              without sufficient sleep

ennavum mutiyavillai                                Unable rightly even to think

  innumtAn vitiyutillai                                  when will the day dawn for us


kitti pullu atittu nankal                              We who played at kitti pullu*

 vilaiyAtum teruvilEyE                                  joyously in the heedless streets

katti vayttuc cutukirAnAm                         There now tethered  others lie felled

 yAr manatum urukavillai                             no  no hearts pain for us

Ur katitam patikkayilEyE                       When our eyes light on letters from home

 vimmi nencu vetikkitu                           sobs prise open our brimming breasts

pOrpulikal pakkattilEyE                         By the flanks of battling Tigers

 pOkamanam tutikkitu                            there to be  our hearts throb and yearn


Note: * A competitive game played by hitting a small stick with a bigger one, the goal being to cover the greatest distance. Also called in Tamil Nadu and Malaysia: kavuntA kavunti.                                      

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 1995. From the collection: “Words for a Lost Sub-Continent” (2001). Excerpted from “Kasi Ananthan: Poet Laureae of Tamil Eelam” by T. Wignesan in Hot Spring: A Journal of Commitment, Vol. 3, No. 9 (London), December 1998, pp. 17-18.

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012

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Breaking in to America on a Snowy Evening

Breaking in to America on a Snowy Evening
Loch David Crane
Minuteman Civil Defense Corps member
May 2, 2006

Whose land this is I think I know–    
    America, where all things glow.
They will not see me stopping here
    because response time is so slow.

My coyote (who hopes I’m queer)
    returns for more throughout the year.
We won’t fix up old Mexico,    
    we’ll steal it all from folks up here.            

Help Mexico?  Don’t give me grief.
    That takes some effort—I’m a thief!
I won’t vote or help my town,
    I’d rather sign up for relief.

Entitlement is what I feel:
    now that I’m here, I want to steal
free welfare benefits, emergency health care, in-state school tuition, and a drivers’ license
    denied me by my birthplace deal.

Your lifestyle here is what I’ll take—
    I think that I deserve a break!
We stole this land from Indians
    and later sold it to the States.

We won’t learn to speak or write
    English–which compounds our plight.
We all believe Aztlan will rise,
    assimilation isn’t right.

Americans are really dumb
    to leave an open door for bums.
Full amnesty is our desire
    that’s why eleven  million run.    
The night is lovely, dark and deep;    
    at the North star I love to peep.
My booties aid my midnight creep. . .
    I’ll shuffle miles while all you sleep! 

(booties are carpet overshoes which leave a poor trail)

(AND your FORMS do not include POLITICAL or SATIRE...why not?)

Copyright © Loch David Crane | Year Posted 2014

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When the Lavender Returns

As cold as ice
Wrapped round your brain
And darkness unfolds
You’re breathing in pain

It’s been freezing here   
In this Land of Shattered Dreams 
It’s been freezing here 
This corrupted winter stings 

It’s been freezing here  		
(Où est la Lavande?)
Your body can’t stay warm  	
(Où est la Lavande?)
 It’s been freezing here  		
(Où est la Lavande?)
This cruel and criminal storm  	
(Où est la Lavande?)

But don’t give up
Don’t despair
Taste the hope 
Floating through the air

When the lavender returns
It’ll warm your frozen bones
Vivid violet clothes
In their candy overtones

When the lavender returns
It’ll race across the land
Rebel flower grows
In the palm of your free hand

If you look out your window
The ground’s parched and bare
If you call for your lover
She’s no longer there
If you ponder your life
Well, it feels like a wreck
And your failures are scars
You can never forget

As leaves turn brown
Sky fades to grey
You’re feeling the drought
The end of the day

It’s been lonely here
In this World of Fallen Souls
It’s been lonely here
With nowhere left to go

But don’t give up
Don’t despair
Taste the hope 
Floating through the air 

When the lavender returns
It’ll warm your frozen bones
Vivid violet clothes
In their candy overtones 

When the lavender returns   	
(Où est la Lavande?)
It’ll race across the land 	         
(Où est la Lavande?)
Rebel flower grows  			
(Où est la Lavande?)
In the palm of your free hand   	
(Où est la Lavande?)

When the lavender returns    	
(Où est la Lavande?)
It’ll warm your frozen bones   	
(Où est la Lavande?)
Vivid violet clothes  			 
(Où est la Lavande?)
In their candy overtones  		 
(Où est la Lavande?)

Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011

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From The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand - THE RUINS OF THE ANCIEN REGIME

Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.

He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.

With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!

Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.

Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.

Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.

So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!

God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.

Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?

"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.

Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.


The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world.

Copyright © Julian Bohan | Year Posted 2013

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The Lottery

I have won the lottery
Though the numbers are not drawn.
I'm promised that it's foolproof,
So my waiting won't be long.

I have my winning ticket
Mounted to the wall.
Each day I bow down to it
Praying for the draw.

These numbers are quite special.
A wise man told me so.
He said he got the numbers
From another long ago.

You've got your set of numbers,
But they are not like mine. 
I'd say that's rather foolish
Because my numbers are divine. 

There can only be one winner
And mine is guaranteed.
You'd better change your numbers,
So you can be as smart as me.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

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The Miracle

Lift the wailing wood
Hammer the tortured nails
Place the ghostly steps
Below the battered rails

Invite those crazy strangers
Dressed in stranger clothes
Join the mighty miracle 
Ready to unfold

Building a stairway 
In the desert
Aimed toward the pure and honest sky
Building a stairway
In the desert
Going to rise for miles
And miles 

Leave this evil town
Where scorpions share your bed
Guilty snakes make a home
Deep inside your head

The bleeding sun
Burns your feet
Hangmen joke
Beggars weep

Buried bodies
Cry for help
Steal your wealth

Building a stairway 
In the desert
Aimed toward the pure and honest sky
Building a stairway
In the desert
Going to rise for miles
And miles 

We’re laughing and      					
We’re dancing				 	
In the desert				
Dancing in the desert			
Of our lives				

Can’t you see?
We’re dancing in the desert
Dancing in the desert 
Of our lives

Feel so free				
Dancing in the desert				
Dancing in the desert 			 		
Of our lives				

Free….so free
In the desert
Dancing in the desert
Of our lives

Lift the wailing wood
Hammer the tortured nails

Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011

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I have my constitution
which exists in the tablets of my mind,
It's not an illusion,
but an ally, a friend,
A guide to perfection,
Perverts the way of the pervert,
A guide to perfection
for the immortal, mortal and mortality.

There is a constitution,
Perpetuated by coercion,
Written by human distortion,
With zigged and zagged expectation,
Oriented to insufficiency,
Loops that our leaders pay to see,
Whose sowers sow carefully,
lest they close their own way.

Of a doctrine hollow I know,
Often planted on the way of justice,
Where the little of a cobbler is taken,
To spare the enthusiasm of a regime,
A policy set out for heaven, 
But creates hell just before,
When infants survive just long enough,
To witness the state-of-the-art slaughter of their beloved.

An outline of legal malpractices,
constitution of an immoral basis of morality,
Thieves defining the principle of equity,
Harlots given virgin reception,
A fugitive in the state house,
A constitution which siphons justice,
Is your pamphlet of statements,
Written in pencil and erased in ink. 

That's not my constitution,
Which differentiates between a Negro and hero,
Implemented sparingly by hungry lawyers,
Who when full do more harm,
To warrant extermination of infants,
And offer them a premature state burial,
Where man slaughters his kinsmen,
For the interests of a constitution.

Written 15/06/2012 MUTHOKA JACOB.

A reaction to failed confidence in the constitution whose makers become the prefects over its interpretation.

Copyright © SILA MUTHOKA | Year Posted 2012

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Americans For Fair Elections

Americans For Fair Elections

Who is it now that pays the way,
Of politicians gone astray,
And who now will pave the way,
For that which they were paid,

We are Americans who stand true and proud,
Witnessing incredible devastations,
So we shout our mantra strong and proud,
We are 'Americans For Fair Elections'!

One contribution from those who vote you in,
Is all a candidate should be able to get.
To fund a political race to represent,
America for the people within their District,

People who no longer have a voice,
People now easily disregarded,
Who now find they have less of a choice,
Than when this democracy started,

No more party or government matching fund,
No special interest groups or big business,
All lobbying our district reps one by one,
And deciding who will lead our districts 

These contributions have stolen our choices,
And all that we Americans hold most sacred,
These powers have now stolen our voices,
And our democracy now sits degraded,

We 'Americans For True Representation',
Now must take action and take back the reins,
We 'Americans For Fair Elections'
Must now rid ourselves of these stains,

And with the help of our fellow Americans,
We shall return the power to the people,
With every one of us taking a stance,
For together we are indeed powerful,

Through calls, letters, and petitions,
Once again we will make our voices heard,
Offering no retreat and no concessions,
We remain staunch and true to our word,

So be warned you who stand in our way,
For we will remember those with questions,
And those who will stand with us this day,
As 'Americans For Fair Elections'

Please visit 'Americans For Fair Elections' dot com,
And help us to pass the word of this movement on,
Or forward this poem penned by My Gull Wheels On,
a.k.a. Michael Wilson, Your fellow American!

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On | Year Posted 2009

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The bravery of wisdom
The supervisor of dignity
Disclaiming the indentity unknowingly
Perpetrating the life of the one.
The father of justice,
Came forth to intervene.
The dumpless of sorrow,
Carelessness,carefulness and cleanliness
Calamity sent for cheating
To bestowed the life of the livings.
It is the sorrow of life
Come forth distance.
Don’t be a victim?

Copyright © Ajala Samuel Akindele | Year Posted 2014

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Morning Mourning

Tears rolling, owls hooting
A morning Mourning
The flow not soothing
It has happened once more
Many lives no more
Impunity and disrespect at its best
May the departed in peace rest.

A dark light has shone
To prove we are not strong
A new face has to be born
sleeping dogs be sent home with blankets
Let the real humans rise to fight.
This Impunity and disrespect at its best
And May the departed in peace rest.

Attack is their motto
should show them our moto (fire)
A tooth removed should be replaced
No negotiation for a life displaced
All we need is unity with no more tolerance
To fight this Impunity and disrespect at its best
And May the departed in peace rest.

why stay with bedbugs
Knowing well they drain blood?
why allow life long nightmares
Ruin your healthy slumbers
Why allow terror stay alive?
This is impunity and disrespect at its best
May the departed in peace rest.

Pledge to remain a patriot
Pledge to fight on the fore front
Pledge to stay loyal to sing a change choral
Pledge to end this impunity and disrespect at its best
May the departed in peace rest.

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2015

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 I saw the president laugh
 I thought I saw a mask
 I laughed too
 Not for it was a worthy laugh
 I could not hide my joy.

I thought it meant better times
 Jobs for the jobless aimless youths
 Food for the hopeless helpless lot
 Even more for the haves.

I thought it meant freedom
 Brought new wisdom
 Ushered a new kingdom
 Safe from the venomous fangs of the world.

I thought it meant peace
 No more wars With Foes
 No more hurt and heart sores
 No more less, just more and more.

More food to feed all
 More clothes to clothe all
 More medicine to cure all
 more classrooms to accommodate all
 More reasons to stand tall
 As one Nation
 One people
 One soil.
 All I saw in the laugh.
 Was a happy nation
 Before I woke up.

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2015

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Dark Light

A patriot
 In a hot spot
 Of deceit and filthy Rot.
 up every day
 On my Knees I pray
 A helpless prey
 safe not my stay.

Times are hard 
 Faces are sad
 No brother on guard.
 No one to share
 No one to care?
 Never fair
 How they leave a poor man’s back bare.

Wake and make
 It’s theirs to take
 Keep permanent silence
 Remain forever voiceless
 Hunger and anger
 blood and bones
 fire and smoke.

Living lies
 Coated in good
 The rule of darkness so bold
 conspiracies remain untold.
 My money my voice
 An empty hand has no choice
 Give to Caesar
 Be the looser.

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2015

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The Seagull

The seagull

In the winter light she limps through
Frozen snow on the frozen ground
In the deepest night the starlight
Guides her back to the colder town

Baby, baby bunting
Mummy’s gone a ****ing
Gone to fetch a wheelie bin
To bin her baby bunting in.

I don’t want my wife to find me talking to you as if I care
Can I take you somewhere warmer?
I know somewhere I’ll take you there

How the clouds hold the snow.
Up above our heads a seagull
Flies across the storm.
Snowflakes slit his skin like razors
Next to me that bastard’s warmer.

Out on the moor where the sheep are buried
By the barn door lay the babe I carried

And the icicles are forming
And the bicycles are frozen
Down the street there goes the chosen
Up his bum there goes the bosun

And the misery and torment 
Are the only things for what you’re meant
Can you pay me back what I lent
I don’t wanna get my head bent. 

The trawler trails the gulls
into the harbours arms again
The seamen spill into the alleys
Waiting for the great adventure.

Copyright © Matt Lupton-Levy | Year Posted 2012

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The Freedom song
We finally wake from masked confusion
and realise the vast illusion
vanities, egos and promotions
caused wasteful carnage and sad emotions
the world was cleansed with artificial care
grandeur, greed with none to spare
never forget and never forgive
the shackled way we had to live.
what they have sown, now let them reap
our souls are fed and now complete.
So on lonely farms and crowded streets
in palaces and in slums
give welcome to freedoms quickening feet
As silently it comes. 
When you see a poor man crouched alone,
A hungry, helpless thing
set him on a moonbeam throne 
and treat him like a king. 
to all those who wear a hunters crown
and feast on your remains
rip away their purple gowns
And let them feel the peoples pain
Serene, unchanging, ever fair,
freedom smiles with secret mirth
And in a surge of insane devotion
we can release this captive earth
No iron bars, no flashing guns,
No land, no sky, no sea,
not even a bolts from Satins hell
Can keep freedom away from me

Copyright © Miriam Owens | Year Posted 2013

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 Sometimes I think hard
My brains go to slumber
My thoughts wander
The sad times same times
I write not sometimes
Words untold
of the cries in every sunrise
of the truth-coated lies
of the citiy's fake fries
As untold.

Allow me if right
To speak of the dark in the night
The stain on the white
The malice in the eyes
Of bleeding hearts
Of wasted innocence
Of bloody glory
Of drugs, bugs and thugs
Of politics with benefits.

Let me speak to the world
Of the stories untold
Of the hungry in the city
Of the terror in the land
Of the corruption in the blood
Words untold so sad
Let all hear of it, not time bad.

Let the untold give hope and stop the war
Let new seeds grow
Illuminate the darkness
Cure all sickness
Feed the hungry
Calm the angry
Let the untold be told
In black and bold
In pictures and sound
In the sky and on the ground
Let it be told of the untold

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2015

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US Under Alien Stars

Here's to all that put up a good fight. A tough battle of day, so we can all safely sleep  tonight.

Our brother troops on a foreign ground, wide awake with evil all around. 

Outcasts in a bleak lifeless place. Any free time, just trying to picture your face. 

Day falls away, and out comes glimmering stars. Not much else to see here, but broken walls and burned up cars. 

Within many U.S. troops, thrives a common hope. To defeat these psycho groups, is what we all mainly scope. 

Day by day, days drag on. More time here and more friends gone. 

Many wish on these stars in the sky. A common wish to finally say goodbye! 

Some time from now and not too long, mission complete and soon to sing the song. 

These years have come and past. We all have grown very strong, and the bond will always last. 

Next up coming, will be our ride back home. Back with our family and freedom to roam.

Copyright © Alex Doumak | Year Posted 2012

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World Better Blind

Is this world not better blind? A darkened place where there be no colour left to find, where we are unable to judge by face or skin, would this not end all the damned wars and hates that race and creed did begin?

Forget what my fathers did for yours have done as much. Say not that you deserve nor use history as your crutch.  Stand upon your own two feet and meet the day with pride, the time is done when behind bygones you might hide.

Raise your own voice and see with your own eyes. Sever now all the past and its pointless ties. I have wrought no harm upon you so cease your empty lies.
When the world be dumb and blind, that be the day when hatred dies.

Copyright © Jack Stone | Year Posted 2015

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Political persuasion

Honest people have a moral code, Do the right thing, thought is sowed, Help the poor, lighten of their load, Leave nastiness to the current, Toad, The Toad speaks like his master, Bought and paid for-ever after, Till the people clear the road… Your Political persuasion is it wrong? Are you just a worker, and still a nong, Dumb as dumbo is your song, Just look after the boss, comes laughter, A boss’es crawler is beneath contempt, Brainwash by the boss is dreamt, He laughs at fools, who take the bait, The super-rich don’t need you mate? They keep “ low-class” exempt, Class distinction is still strong, Aussie miners, black balled, mortally wronged, {no job for him hereafter} Get workers cheap from overseas, Special workers if you please, The lies go ‘on and on’ :} Don Johnson

Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2013

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How much more greedy can you get

If its minerals, tis you taking from there
If its oil, tis you taking from there
How much more greedy can you get,

If its exports, tis you taking from there
Even imports, tis you taking from there
How much more greedy can you get,

In government, tis you taking from there
Investment, tis you taking from there
How much more greedy can you get,

Oh, you sure have no scruples
As even in church, you are taking from there
How much more greedy can you get.

Copyright © Kyam Nalwanga | Year Posted 2013

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Lakbay Lansangan

Halika nga muna binibini!
Sa aking mga braso'y kumapit kang maigi,
maglakbay tayo sa masalimuot na realidad,
tuklasin natin ang hiwaga ng lansangan,
pero'y huwag kang kukurap baka ika'y madukutan.

Masdan mo si mang Pedro sa gilid ng estero,
dati'y nakibaka rin sa People's Power noong 1986,
nagtiwala sa pangakong kaunlaran at pagbabago,
hanggang ngayo'y  barong-barong ang tinitirhan,
maralita at lagi pa ring ginugutom.

Ang masikip na eskinitang iya'y stambayan ng magandang si Milagrosa,
sa kadilima'y nakikipag-digma sa hanap-buhay,
nakipag-buno sa mga militar noong Edsa 2,
dala ang pulang bandila ng rebolusyon,
akala'y mapigilan ang kurapsyon,
subalit ay lalong tumindi at lumaganap pa ng lubusan,
hanggang ngayo'y lugmok pa rin siya sa kahiarapan,
naka-lubog ang kaluluwa sa nakaka-baliw na kawalan,
napilitang lumipad ng mababa,
sa putik ng prostitusyo'y dumapo.

Kung mangyari lamang ay batakin mo ang iyong pantalon,
baka ika'y mabasa,
umapaw na naman ang tubig sa kanal,
huwag kang mahimatay sa nakakasukang baho nito,
dulot ng matinding pangungurakot sa kaban ng bayan,
mga imburnal ay nagkagiba-giba na.

Huminahon ka't magbuntong-hininga,
ito's pagaalog-alog lamang,
hayaan mo,
kalsadang lubak-lubak,
sa iyong kamalayan ay mabubura din,
putok na putok sa mga balita,
tila'y bomba atomika,
pondo nito'y ginamit ng alkalde noong nakaraang eleksyon.

Oo nga pala,
isipan ko'y nakatisod ng isang ala-ala,
naitanong mo kanina,
iya'y burol ni aling Juana,
sa gitna ng lansangan ay bantog na tsismosa,
magaling magpa-away ng kapuwa,
kaya napaslang kanina.

Lumingon ka't mga mata'y buksan,
iya'y pansitan ni mang Chua,
tanyag na mangangalakal ng mga droga,
nagpupuslit ng mga pekeng gamot mula Tsina,
halimuyak niya'y abot hanggang sa palasyo ng Malakanyang,
malaking halaga ng salapi ang ibinibigay bilang pampadulas
sa mga buteteng pulitiko,
buong bayan ay inilalagay sa masaklap na sakuna.

tahan na sa pag-iiyak sa harap ng puntod ng kalupitan,
ito ay nakakamatay na bangungot,
balang araw ang mapapaslang ay ikaw,
manindigan at huwag gumapang,
boses mo'y taasan,
isigaw sa mga tengang bingi ang harapang
pukawin ang bayang natutulog sa mahimbing na panlilinlang,
buksan ang mga matang nabubulag sa lason ng mga pangakong
pagbabago ay makakamtan din.

Copyright © gianni pansensoy | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad | |


Im in prison for commiting a crime taking things that were not mine, i went out into the general public, and stole things from a random subject. I hold up my hands and take the blame, my picture in paper to add to my shame. I realise now i went about it all wrong, ill explain it all within this song. I should have worn a suit to work, commited my crimes with a smirk. For id have the right as a civil servent, my squeaky clean image and smell of detergent. Oh how id laugh at the publics expence, the poor,the peasents,the holiday tents. While back inside my gentlemens club, caviar,chianti and tax payers grub. Sit smoking cigars by an open fire, swopping stories of our selfish desires. "I gave five pounds to a charity today, then claimed it back within my pay" "I claimed straws for my childrens party, then more money to dress them smartly" "I claimed for a jag in case the other breaks down, then for another to potter round town" "Well when the wife fell down the stairs, i claimed thousands just for the repairs!" "I claimmed a thousand just for one shoe, then another five thousand for a rent boy or two". Raise the taxes! Theres not enough, public funds to buy our stuff. My ducks need a house, a one that floats! And i need money to dredge my moat! I need a taxi to take me ten yards! To see my neighbour and play charades Then baffle the public with a few choice words and change the subject,declare war on the kerds But i wouldn't be breaking any rules, these are important political tools. So the motto of the story is i should have listined in school! Instead im sat here on this prison stool.........

Copyright © dean wood | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad | |



Oh, Lord, is this how it will be? Placid as a frozen lake – savvy as the silver serpent
that moves beneath it surface? 
Must I be the same?
This is simple lucid dreaming is it not?
To come upon a clothing store in age and consent but offered no service? 
Where amid these shackled hours and entrapped hearts are the conditions for surrender
mapped out?
 I ask you – oh, god-head – make reveal those who would remand the closure of the day, to
render wholeness one big puzzle; I’ve no sleep this mourning, my body’s mortality was
ticking all night; so as to calm its sacramental rite, I tugged at its extremities to seek
an answer there, I poked deep for my soul but it came up mostly air. So, oh Lord now I beg
you, I will close mine eyes and pray; fall upon one knee and ask forgiveness stay; oh how
you have answered – a thunderous, silent display upon my eyelids back, from the veins of
angel’s blood I sense the course my soul is taking, in solace, deep beneath the cask of
flesh and sinew to a place of comfort, lord I see, I knew it all along:
Your being has been me…

Copyright © Joe DINKI | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ballad | |


Slayer of dreams and reality Bow down to his Therion Majesty Vowed to Be beyond Spiritual Supremacy, But too Frail, but too Weak, Were these words of The Transgressor of Our Argentine Destiny Reigned with Blood And with Blood You shall Fall Never denounce the ways of The Wicked For the Wicked you Have Become I'm Not your gracious Jesus Christ, Saving you from the blood-sodden Ice, But you Are The Beast Therion Majesty Can't control your own destiny The one who used to fight monsters, Became a Monster Himself Look beyond the Book, See the Truth lying there, Gagged and Hooked, Silence screaming to Be Free The Draconian Revelation Will Save thee The same Cold Pressure has erupt inside The Beast dwells in your Pride Dipped in Argentine and Insanity, Captivated by the touch Never looking beyond the Sin, For the Scene remains Empty I'm Not your gracious Jesus Christ, Saving you from the blood-sodden Ice, But you Are The Beast Therion Majesty Can't control your own destiny The one who used to fight monsters, Became a Monster Himself In your mind When the world Falls, Parodiso will open her halls But not for you, Inferno Cries out for you Forever Malaoda will Be your destiny I'm Not your gracious Jesus Christ, Saving you from the blood-sodden Ice, But you Are The Beast Therion Majesty Can't control your own destiny The one who used to fight monsters, Became a Monster Himself

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad | |

The Chair

How strong is your faith, 
In these Race days of Religions?
Do you believe in the righteous one, 
The “divine” who exists in everyone?
Tragically, the world has turned into a fireplace…
Forlornly now; there is rage in every face.

Obsession with destructions, 
Happy when lives are lost, 
Don’t care what the world has to say
Oh, these beasts would never stop!
Don't think beyond their narrow view,
Don't care about me and you,
Even though it's us who always bear the cost.

Military suicides, welcome to the mass grave, 
Humanity’s genocide, born to die as slaves.
All the talks in the peace process
Rolls on without effects, 
They preach about justice
Holding guns into our faces.
Wonder what's it gonna be, revolution, peace 
Or the devour of the dead?
Or maybe, the feast of Nuclear instead!!

Politics and economics, 
And all the mockery of democracy, 
With blood dripping down from every horizon
History writes the legacy.
Dirty claws of the war
Ripped our souls apart, 
Fake complications of the dirty politics, 
Won't give peace a chance to work.

Double faced dirty leaders, 
Just opposite they way they appear, 
Lives on the corruption
Aided by pet criminal and the liar.
Diabolically wrap up the whole world 
With their cruelest of intentions, 
Just to be on the CHAIR!!!

(C) Obaidur Rahman. Published in the poet’s debut book of English poetry titled “The Mystic Inferno” in 2012.

Copyright © Obaidur Rahman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad | |

Not only from this planet but their spaceships in heaven

I wonder why aliens stay secret
While the elites play with their demons
Not only from this planet but their spaceships in heaven

Secret basses on the moon
keeping the public in doom
Not only from this planet but their spaceships in heaven

The most holy of symbols
The Pentagram is quite simple
Not only from this planet but their spaceships in heaven

Unite us as one
Like the stars align the sun 
Not only from this planet but their spaceships in heaven

Grab your stun gun
It gonna be a tough one
Not only from this planet but their spaceships in heaven


Copyright © Christopher Meyer | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad | |

State of the nation

This world is getting tougher to survive everyday.
The cost of living is more than my pay.
It's going to get worse that's what the old folks say.
The bad times are here and here to stay.
Just look at the shape of the U.S.A.
we're afraid to let our children go out and play.
Maybe we all need to get on uor knees and pray.

Jobs are getting harder and harder to find.
What I own ain't worth a dime.
Inflation is up and so is crime.
Alot of real good people are in a bind.
Can't even get care when your in your prime.
Most everyone you know have fallen on hard time.
I can't help them out when i'm worried about saving mine.

Career politicians keep sucking us dry.
They tax everything we own and anything we buy.
Most of us blue collars will work till the day we die.
While the rich skate through life and don't have to try.
We all have to stop living this goverment lie.
It's about time we let that eagle fly.
Remember who made this country, it was you and I.

We the people can bring her back, and put this nation back on track.
We made her strong and that's a fact, and
Noone will ever be able to take away that.

Copyright © kelly willis | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad | |


A crime illegitimate-legitimate
Like wild fire it spreads
No one dare to interrogate
For they are the one to adjudicate
The masses: who will plea for their course?
Corruption Alas! Is a sin of mind and thought?
Yet not always by those on top or bourgeois
It is a pain brought on man by those too ambitious
Woe betide those who want to get them probed
Safety is far from them even in their own abode
Who and where shall we go cry the people
But tears wasted for everything seems crippled
A crime eating deep like the weevil
A crime with ink and Egyptian Cyprus

Copyright © OJOBO EMMANUEL | Year Posted 2012