Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Narrative Political Poems | Narrative Poems About Political

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Narrative | |

Heinrich Heine Revisited

I can clearly sense your utter despair of Der Matratzengruft*
As you valiantly carried on your poetic works to the very end.
This did not change your literary accomplishments well-known,
And your courage through the misery and morphine* is undeniable.

Your lyrical poetry speaks volumes among all of German literature,
And it was most marvelously set to music by the likes of Schumann,
Schubert, Silcher, Mendelssohn, Brahms, and Strauss—to name a few. 
Their melodic tones as applied to your verses then, now live on forever!

Your role in and principal contributions to Romanticism fall in line
With the highest quality of your poetic language and its intention.
Your role in battling early nineteenth-century censorship in Prussia set 
You out front of many of your contemporaries who resisted much less.

It’s so tragic Herr Heine that your literary resistance so prominent in
Challenging Prussian censorship would make you ever so more noted,
And besmirched as the Nazis in 1933 burned your books and those of
Other German scholars as a reflection of their insane and twisted beliefs!

It’s with great irony indeed that the banning and burning of your works by 
The Nazis was parodied further by them as they ignobly quoted and used
Your famous line from “Almansor,”* when you likened that “where books 
Are burned, in the end people will be burned too.” We know what they did!

And so, with both honor and sadness I do understand the very cry of lament
From the confines of your mattress-grave about your final exquisite poetry,
Written through writhing pain and tears as you faced the end of your life.
It took great courage to face your end like this while staying true to your Muse!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 15, 2014) 
(Narrative Quatrain poetic format)

AUTHOR’S NOTES:
*Der Matratzengruft from the German means “The Mattress-Grave.” 
(Heinrich Heine was confined to his bed, his “mattress-grave,” in 1848
with various illnesses until his eventual death eight years later in 1856.)

*Heine poetically referred to his pain predicament in the poem “Morphine,”
written near the end of his life, when he noted in two famous verses: 
“Gut is der Schlaf, der Tod ist besser—freilich / Das beste waere, nie
Geboren sein.” (In English: “Sleep is good, Death is better—of course, /
Best of all would be never to have been born.”)

*Almansor was a play written by Heine in 1821 that had a most famous 
line in German: “Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Buecher verbrennt,
verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.” (Rendered in English: “That was
but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as
well.”) The significance here is that as the Nazis burned the books of Heine
and other German artists on the Opernplatz in Berlin in 1933, they actually
celebrated this event by “engraving” Heine’s famous words from “Almansor”
in the ground at the Opernplatz site. The obvious depravity of this terrible
event reflects the innate cruelty, stupidity and evil of the Nazis as they 
burned the books and defiled the names and reputations of Heine and other 
famous German writers. Their actions were monstrous and shameful, and 
were indicative of mankind’s base instincts at their very worst. Moreover, 
despite converting to Protestantism from Judaism in 1825, Heine’s Jewish 
origins played a continuing presence in his life and were one of the major 
factors for his being scapegoated by the Nazis later in 1933. And besides,
the Nazis were always more interested in burning books, rather than 
reading them!  


Details | Narrative | |

The Powerfool and The Powerful

They deserve the power least;
That desire the power most.

And I saw the duo on the road,
Together on a journey in a tussle,
Behold! The powerfool and the powerful.
The powerfool: a powered fool, the power-fooled:
Tooth and nail he fought,
Burgled the mandate, picked a race,
Unwary was he that
Power-fool-ness is not powerfulness.

They deserve the power least;
That desire the power most.

I was fated to behold it all:
How the powerfool took the hold by force,
The power bought he, with the blood of the innocent and the guiltless,
Who in allegiance went, their duty to do.
How the powerful came calm with query;
And chased after the powerfool 
In a slow steady struggle sealed 
In patience, persistence, perseverance…

They deserve the power most;
That desire the power least.

I was fated to know it all:
How at the first three junction of the road
Which was destined for four,
The auctioneer’s label was hung on the truth;
Our trust betrayed for a trifle;
And our lynchpins victimized with riffle.

They deserve the power most;
That desire the power least.


But the fool cannot but fool a fool.
At the fourth junction I saw it:
As the powerfool in a derisive confidence
Met his dreaded waterloo in a corner,
Where stubbornness is stupidity,
And where all help is no help;
Caught unawares; the end of the road in sight.
And the powerful in a gallant gesture,
Given the power that to him belonged,
Sighed VICTORY AT LAST!

He that laughs last laughs longer;
He that laments last laments longer. 


Details | Narrative | |

America, Why Did You Stray?

America, why did you stray from the old way.
A constitution put forth, the foundation of our land,
barely recognizable what was originally Jefferson's hand.
Tarnished and smudged by misinterpretation,
overindulgence and greed, to satisfy political,
judicial, and journalistic need.
Once majority rule, now bordering on ridicule,
the law of the land, ever changing, meeting demands,
of whoever takes a stand.

America, why did you stray, parents unable to discipline,
fear children undisciplined now rule, school in chaos,
students unruly, guaranteed to pass, unprepared for their future,
parents unsure, wish for the past, hope the next generation,
won't be like the last.

America, why did you stray, streets used to be a place to play,
neighbors knew one another, socialized every day,
doors left unlocked, nothing to fear, families stayed close,
helped one another, took care of mother.

Now drugs rule the day, hate and crime more common than play,
multiple locks symbolic of today, rarely talk to a stranger,
living in fear; life no longer precious, taken away,
day after day, the bloody count rises, a country in crisis,
victims pay, guilty appeal, courts give them the best deal.
Nobody protests for victims rights, put a murderer to death,
they scream all night.

America, why did you stray, hatred and bigotry alive 
and well today, nationalities split, long for the old way,
when an American, was just an American, now hyphenation,
the accepted way.

America, why did you stray, once an industrial giant
you gave it away, too high a standard for industry to pay,
moved out of country, the new American way, unemployment,
poverty, homelessness rapidly increasing, ruined lives,
while billions are spent on so called allies.

America, why did you stray, what's written today,
barely address the wrongs building every day,
religion is accepted, God is not,
country divided, politically split,
presidential bashing provides journalistic wit,
hatred and bigotry, live for it.

America why did you stray, new chapters every day,
really a damn shame.


Details | Narrative | |

A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


Details | Narrative | |

The Powerfool and The Powerful

They deserve the power least;
That desire the power most.

And I saw the duo on the road,
Together on a journey in a tussle,
Behold! The powerfool and the powerful.
The powerfool: a powered fool, the power-fooled:
Tooth and nail he fought,
Burgled the mandate, picked a race,
Unwary was he that
Power-fool-ness is not powerfulness.

They deserve the power least;
That desire the power most.

I was fated to behold it all:
How the powerfool took the hold by force,
The power bought he, with the blood of the innocent and the guiltless,
Who in allegiance went, their duty to do.
How the powerful came calm with query;
And chased after the powerfool 
In a slow steady struggle sealed 
In patience, persistence, perseverance…

They deserve the power most;
That desire the power least.

I was fated to know it all:
How at the first three junction of the road
Which was destined for four,
The auctioneer’s label was hung on the truth;
Our trust betrayed for a trifle;
And our lynchpins victimized with riffle.

They deserve the power most;
That desire the power least.


But the fool cannot but fool a fool.
At the fourth junction I saw it:
As the powerfool in a derisive confidence
Met his dreaded waterloo in a corner,
Where stubbornness is stupidity,
And where all help is no help;
Caught unawares; the end of the road in sight.
And the powerful in a gallant gesture,
Given the power that to him belonged,
Sighed VICTORY AT LAST!

He that laughs last laughs longer;
He that laments last laments longer. 


Details | Narrative | |

Snotty Snobs

Snotty snobs look down their noses
at we the common citizens of the nation.
They would joyfully fart in our faces
because they truly believe they crap out roses.
Jonathan Gruber is the poster boy for these elitist jerks.
He really thinks that the crap coming out of his mouth
is the only honest to goodness sweet smelling truth.


Details | Narrative | |

A Sad State Of Affairs

He robbed a bank,
His armpits stank,
He ran a scam,
He screwed a lamb,
He is a drunk,
He has a pet skunk,
He cripples nuns,
He stole some funds,
He spits on graves,
He owns some slaves,
He cheats on his wife,
He kills kittens with a knife,
He pissed on a pew,
He laughs at me and you,
He is a politician.


Details | Narrative | |

World Economic Report, April, 2012

Fear feasts on our insides
And wrecks decision-making
Evil jumps in with glee
And another one loses trust

And another one down
And another one down
And another one loses trust

Evil grins
At what might have been
As another one loses trust

Housing fails
Markets, too
And countries follow suit

“Be afraid
Be very afraid”
Used to be a joke
But now it’s the match
That lights the glint
In Evil’s eye

Every day we’re fed
Too much detailed
 information
- Perhaps true;
Perhaps not -
With stated directives
To be
Very
Afraid


As Evil laughs
And Fear cavorts
Through our souls

With another one down
And another one down 
And another one loses trust

I will myself to turn off the media
Not to ignore the warnings;
But to avoid overexposure
To the cancer-causing
Smoking gun
Of fear




According to Article 37, Section 202 of the Code of Federal Regulation, the Congress states that “words and short phrases such as names, titles, and slogans; familiar symbols or designs; mere variations of typographic ornamentation, lettering or coloring; mere listing of ingredients or contents” are not copyrightable.
So thanks to John Deacon of Queen…


Details | Narrative | |

Where did we go wrong

Shovels,blue overalls and head lamps.
They dug the golds fields to feed our our hungry stomachs,they carried the Dompas to free our future,they took beatings for our emancipation,but did they plant good seeds in our brains?
Did they instill education in our hearts?
We stick gold plates on our teeth to show monetary muscle
We dig our father's pockets to fend for our families and we are labelled gold diggers.


Were the lights at the end of the tunnel chandeliers on the ceiling of the Summit club?
Did our dreams slide downhill like a pole dancer?
Is the corporate leader a way to step on the backs of a kneeling cleaner?

Shining crystals all looked the same,we took the mirror and gave away the diamond,we gave away our herd of cattle but now we are fed a load of wild Bull and a lot of Ass.
We took away the buffalo from our national money,we boasted of millions to bid for the same buffalo and now the same buffalo ends on our plates at dinner time.

We placed Madiba on the Randelas only for the Mandelas to fight for the millions.
27 years fight to freedom,a few years into democracy, but an eternal scar of poverty.
We recalled the smoke pipe that was bringing fire to the cold land and inducted the shower head that only bring storms of conspiracy,strikes and skimpy dancers.

Did we go wrong anywhere or am I just an ignorant youth?



Details | Narrative | |

Urge To Smile

Urge To Smile
By Nate Spears


The morning sun rises
My flesh is set back 
Due to my body needing 
Much needed rest
I wonder 
Does anyone else feel 
the urge to smile?
I know right now 
I'm feeling sour


A grin attached to my face
That lights up the sky
Behind my clouds of joy 
There lies a lie
With everyone wondering how?
How can he smile
with so much going on
Rapidly by the hour
People losing their homes


Some can barely feed their kids
The government is gone
They rather spend our money 
On billion dollar drones
Never the less
We're blessed
We're here to see another day
Being healthy and relevant
Gives me strength
To soar into a new day
With unlimited fight 
Packed up under my wings


Another day 
Another chance
For tomorrow 
Thanks in advance
As long as I'm living
I can better my condition 
It's mandatory to smile
A privilege to be living.


Details | Narrative | |

Human Pythons

Iranians are Persians,
devil worshipping pythons,
on the highway to Hades.


Details | Narrative | |

Voting In America

Okay, my rat bastard
beat your rat bastard
in the most recent election,
so don’t you dare tell me
that your rat bastard
is better than my rat bastard
when I know for a fact
that my rat bastard
is by far the superior
rat bastard of the two.


Details | Narrative | |

Thug Leaders

I guess President Thug,
Attorney General Thug
and New York City Mayor Thug
are exchanging high fives
now that two New York City
Police Officers were murdered
by one of their thug followers.


Details | Narrative | |

Ghastly Politicians

Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi
are ghastly political hacks.
They make me want to puke.


Details | Narrative | |

Shark Food

If President Obama wants to release
all of the terrorists still incarcerated
at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba in a quick
and safe manner, just throw the creeps
into the Gulf Of Mexico and let the sharks
eat their sorry asses. These rat bastards
lived totally worthless lives and for them to
end up as shark turds at the bottom of the sea
will not only make the world a safer place
in which to live but as an added bonus,
the President will get brownie points galore
from the animal rights groups. If there ever
was a win-win situation, this is surely it.


Details | Narrative | |

Hostile Times II

Hostile Times II
By Nate Spears
	

Busted love is my Crystal Ball's fortune
My heart hurts in a torturing way
Nothing ever works in my favor
Standing still 
I lower my head and pray 
Confessing to God 
All I have to give

A 16 year old rebellious daughter
A 13 year old son that’s dead
My father is in prison; so is the one of my two kids
Is this really a way of living?
I didn’t have a choice from the days beginning
Anything different
Would have a given me a chance
at living

Walls of barriers bearing on us 
On this earth we stand
Refusing to let go of this curse
If no bill is signed by Congress
My unemployment runs out next Thursday 
Now I contemplate what’s next?
Sex dollars or Creflo's Dollars?
Be an honest woman; or
Be a fool that’s starving?
When pushed to the limit
All governors are discarded.

Hostile Times rains upon us
Other nations joins the honors
The Elite makes me vomit
There’s plenty of resources among us
God have mercy and let it trickle down on us
Rather than become degrading
In this pew 
I choose prayer
Becoming Sunday Mornings best
Washing away my pains that become abreast; with my chest
Bringing in a new day, 
A today, 
For a better way
In these hostile times we live in.


Details | Narrative | |

Brothers And Sisters

Clarence Thomas! Condi Rice! Valarie Jarrett!
Susan Rice! Eric Holder! Barack Obama!
The brothers and the sisters are doing fine!


Details | Narrative | |

Jose

Jose, the kid on the corner --
El Macho -- who knows no English
and who sells himself to eat
(being still not quite dry)
slept last night in an alley
shielded from wind and eyes
by the bulk of two dumpsters
positioned at angles to each other.
This morning, his smile's
as brilliant as sunshine.
And if he's not exactly squeaky clean,
he's only a little the worse for wear --
probably more immaculate than we,
potential buyers at whom he flaunts his wares.


Details | Narrative | |

Boko Haram Massacres Thousands In Nigeria

The rat bastard Islamist murderers of Boko Haram
continue to massacre thousands of people in Nigeria
and Obama and his ass kissing buddies in the
National Media Outlets across America are largely silent
about the situation because it doesn’t fit into their
delusional rhetoric that Islam is a peaceful religion
and that most Muslims are sane human beings.
Pray for the vast majority of Africans who long to live
quiet family oriented lives and want nothing to do
with the devil worshipping cult of Islamic nonsense.


Details | Narrative | |

Circling The Bowl

I tend to be an optimist at heart
so when more women started running
for public office I figured it was a good thing
and a very positive step forward in an effort
to bring civility back into the political arena.
To my complete surprise, female politicians
for the most part seem to be as big of scumbags
as are their current dreadful male counterparts.
I am now not only disappointed but also discouraged.
It is as if someone somewhere flushed the national toilet
and the whole country is now merely circling the bowl.


Details | Narrative | |

Senile Old Fart

If there is anyone anywhere
who gives a good damn
about former president
Jimmy Carter’s legacy
please keep him away
from microphones and cameras.
He has obviously deteriorated
mentally into a senile old fart
and a rabid anti-Semitic jerk.


Details | Narrative | |

Vast Conspiracy

There is something happening here.
What it is, to me, is crystal damn clear.
The political elite are out to get me and you.
No more rednecks! No more brothers!
The hoity-toity rat bastards think of us as rabble.
They want to abort our sons and our daughters.
They want to confiscate all of our weapons.
Then they will send their well armed goons after us.
They will tell the world that we are domestic terrorists.
Then they can live in their little fantasy world,
inhabited only by snotty insufferable assholes like themselves.
In their hearts and minds there is no room for the common man.
It is a vast left wing conspiracy!


Details | Narrative | |

Nine Eleven

The old woman argued relentlessly, her case.
Resolute, she raved in her conviction; 
two thousand and one reasons were there for her to be mad.
Eleven was given to questioning eyes.

It was September, 
and Bernice brought home the bourgeois man, 
and the two fell 
from the pedestal
they held among friends in the big city, 
(the city) a melting pot, 
now a city in affliction.

Bernice’s brown eyes combed the neighborhood; 
two boys, with open arms, 
played aero planes; 
Across the street,
the rug pilot laughed his ass off 
as if mocking the bourgeois man,
and his woman hid her face in rags …, 
in degradation – 
but her sad eyes openly mourned her son’s suicide.

Grief of that magnitude brings offense, 
and the bourgeois man was red with wrath, 
and he abhors the old woman 
with every inch of his being. 
Racism was reversed.
He avowed by God to ruin the rug pilot, 
and the people that loved him consented. 

Hearts were left to wonder
what makes men so cruel.
The reasons for the old woman’s rant was explicable, 
and of the grounds for the revenge 
the negros conceded, 
in only one instance. 
Revenge was foreseeable, 
and the spirit breeds more phobias.


Details | Narrative | |

Once Proud

When did the once proud Democratic Party
become dominated by Jewish hating,
Raghead Nazi loving, rotten rat bastard SOBs?
The vast majority of Jews have been loyal Democrats
for generations and the fact that many of their current party leaders
not only take their loyalty for granted but also disparage them
at the drop of the proverbial hat with great glee in their hearts
and big smug smiles on their ungrateful faces is an utter disgrace.


Details | Narrative | |

A girl was raped in a bus that night

A girl was raped in a bus that night 
By six men, all drunk, who had lost their minds	
Ambrosia was the elixir of gods, it is said
But godlike men in this age aren’t born or made
Alcohol wrecks judgment, makes beasts out of men 
Deeds under its influence have put us men to shame
Shops abound in our nation where alcohol is sold
The government till overflows when the weather turns cold
A corrupt force is tasked to uphold the country’s law
Incidents occurring on a daily basis expose this basic flaw
Fear of law is no deterrent for miscreants and crooks
The police prefer to look away; with them, they are in cahoots  
But a girl still battles death today aided by a ventilator
Skewered with an iron rod that night, unending was her horror
Demonstrations against this shame were met with brutal force
Citizens showing solidarity were bludgeoned without remorse
The hand that wields the baton to protect civil society
Is now the hand that throttles free voice and liberty
Bad governance, we know is the bane of any nation
Bad policing and lawlessness is responsible for any country’s degeneration
Instead of upholding law and maintaining order
Law enforcers are subdued by their political masters
Whose lack of will to rein in the force given selfish political aspirations 
Stems from a sense of indebtedness for furthering their ambitions 
Burning state fuel at night they stalk and chase prey
Fleecing shady truckers and wheeler-dealers who operate in markets grey
This extortion by night on city road and state highway
Robs the state of much needed revenue and is an add-on to their pay
Similar incidents happen each day of the year and night
In night’s anonymous darkness or blatantly by daylight
With the force preoccupied in matters so vital
Who will protect our girls and control the crime spiral
The government of the day is callous to people’s concerns
Callous to  a daughter’s fate on whom men on a bus took turns


Details | Narrative | |

Scuzzball Poster Boy

Bill de Blasio,
the current mayor
of New York City,
is easily the most
disgusting example
of human de-evolution
walking semi-upright
on planet earth today.


Details | Narrative | |

Southbound Mule

Jonathan Gruber, a professor of economics
at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology
and one of the liberal elitist architects of
ObamaCare, who has utter contempt for the
average American voter and has been caught
on video twice calling us stupid in front of his
fellow elitist bunghole buddies, is the north end
of a southbound mule. Enough Said!
End Of Story!


Details | Narrative | |

Political Swampland

Politics is like a Louisiana Swamp:
all of the scum rises to the top.
How else can you explain my state’s two Senators.
One is a pervert and the other is a butt kisser.
A former governor spent eight years in prison
and says now that he is out, he plans on running
for Congress and will probably win if he does.
Welcome to Political Swampland U. S. A.


Details | Narrative | |

Out Of Place, Out Of Time

Not long ago in a faraway place,
Big Jack McCluskey dug up some gold.
Now that he had mucho moolah Jack decided to move
and leave the bleak environs of the harsh Alaskan cold.
Off he happily went to the pleasant warm Hawaiian isles
to spend the remainder of his days where the weather is mild.
Unfortunately, once there, Big Jack McCluskey didn’t fit in
with the laid-back native islanders because Jack is naturally wild.
Being a very accommodating group of people they put up with Jack
despite of his menacing demeanor and his wild changes in mood.
McCluskey has a tendency to be arrogant; he thinks his feces have no stink.
He has a very short temper and even on his best days he is nasty rude.
Unfortunately, money walks very tall and it talks really loud,
so the Hawaiians tolerated Jack’s outrageous boorish ways.
Big Jack is uglier than the devil and smells like raw sewage,
he loves to sing bawdy songs out loud and he cuts wind night and day.
Even the most mild mannered of people have their breaking point,
so when Jack decided to get naked and walk about and around,
thereby scaring all the children and causing sober preachers to take a drink,
the men gathered together, bum rushed him and got him tightly bound.
They threw Jack in a big wooden crate, loaded it in the hold of a cargo plane,
labeled it Cash on Delivery, care of the U. S. Senate Building, Washington, D.C.
The ever caring islanders discussed the entire situation and came to the conclusion
that as utterly disgusting as Big Jack McCluskey is, he had to have family in
old D. C.


Details | Narrative | |

He's Back

Richard Nixon is not dead, as we had all been told.
He’s grown a few inches and now has a good tan;
and again resides in his old abode at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
He’s the same old Tricky Dick we all despised with a passion,
he still doesn’t care about anything or anyone but himself.
The whole world is going to hell fast and furious,
and many are those who are searching,
but he is nowhere to be found.
Where is the great one you may ask?
He’s in Washington D. C. trying to accomplish
what he says is his most important task.
What task might that be you may ask?
He’s in the oval office, running around in circles, 
trying to kiss his own damn ass.