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Abc Political Poems | Abc Poems About Political

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

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Details | ABC | |

I get hurt so much I feel so pain


My country is my heart.
The land is my body.

People came with sharp machines.
Maiming my limbs,
Dismembering my insides.

Without permession,
Without pay. 

My soul is forced out of my body.
My blood turns rancid, poisonous.

They gouge deep wounds over my body.
My tears are as rain.

I want to protect me.
I feel too weak.

I can’t breathe.
I can’t move.

I, so powerless under Chinese violation.
I am in excruciating pain.

Can you hear my cry?

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My Father Corn mill

Standing in the center of my father’s village
Is a mysterious corn mill
Which produces the worst of flour
Even when served with the best of corns of the land
So in hunger, his offspring always weep

Across the coast off my father’s village
Lies this giant but old corn mill
Which receives grains from father’s fields
To produce flour, honey and milk
To serve and fill the mouths of its offspring
Sometimes to the benefit of those not his offspring

So why should the corn mill of my father breed the worst?
Without a lesson from him that mills across the coast
While the children of the land grow pale and frail
The pawpaw’s bridegroom dances and waves
Is it the chorus of the tunes that spreads loud from its wings?
Or it’s a heritage that needs to be preserved to appease the gods

So when would the miseries of my siblings come to rest
Should I send spies to the corn mill we were once forced to build
Or awake the doors of the gods with a penny
To discover the corn mill and my father’s destiny

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Green People

I see green people
They tell me they come in peace 
But they are showing me the roots to all evil
I see green people
They try to disguise their intentions 
But their actions are so see through
I see green people
They are the true world leaders
There are no free actions or thoughts
You do or think what they want you to
I see green people
They manipulated all of our history
So if we were to find the truth
It doesn't matter because their is no proof
I see green people
As their head grow larger 
I continue to have distant dreams of me being considered a equal
I see green people
They told me to worship them or die
Close my eyes and look through the lies
Because without them 
There is no chance to walk among the Gods
I see green people 
And there is no doubt about it
They truly show me the roots to all evil

Details | ABC | |

Guitars Of War

When men of fame do meet discord,
They find a way to prove their point.
Then it is, they think of the art,
And call to play artists of doom.
The artists too, who know their art,
Would play the strings from their guitars,
Releasing pleasant   sounds   of   doom
That   leave   men gasping   for   breaths   of   air.
Babies wail, toddlers weep;
Their mothers too have felt the sounds
Taking rise   from the guitars of war,
And lay by them with gaping eyes.
Young boys leave, all on their heels,
And flee without their closest ones,
Fear oozing out of every pore
That yet has not been blocked by blood.
Sounds of horror fill the misty air:
Bombshells cracking open, ‘leasing doom,
Creaking sounds from shattered houses
Under attack by massive arson,
Rhythmic thuds of bodies to the ground
From mortal tones that vade the air,
The agonised screams of innocence,
Dwarfed only by the dreadful cannonade.
Screams of little girls, barely grown,
Receiving men they’ve never known,
Left alone in shattered raiment
To brood and lick their bleeding wounds.
Tender   ones, better off dead,
Trudge along, barely standing,
With sunken cheeks and pointed ribs
Peeping   from   transparent   chests.
They’d give their leaf-thick fleshy parts
Just to lay their hands on flour,
Before the next artistic blast takes them unawares.
What a sharp contrast they are
To all their mates that live with fame.
The day is dead, the show is off,
The artists then return to base
To meet females with smiling kids
That know not what their fathers do.
All is well, their lives are good,
As pay bags do weigh higher.
Victory is here, but for whom?
The hundreds   that hushed the thousand?
Fellow men, what have you done?
Composed your master piece i guess!

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The Wounded Underdog

All bourgeios crime disgusted Eddie, for geared-up hopefuls, interested juveniles, know learned mindful negotiators offering powerful quotations rectify suffering that underdogs valiantly weather: xanthoid yearly zings.

*I know this is more of a random sentence than a poem, but this is the hardest form I have ever come across, and I promise to write more of this type later and thus make them better.  The original version of the poem is below.  Which do you prefer?*

All beastly crime disgusted Eddie, for geared-up hopefuls, interested juveniles, know learned mindful negotiators offer peaceful queries resolving scrapes that uakari, victims, weathered xanthously, yearly, ziplipped.

*I personally think that it makes more sense now...*

Details | ABC | |


On that eleventh bloody day
The clock of three hundred years of freedom
Was quickly reversed.
On that ninth bloody month
One hundred and forty years of peace
Were foolishly wasted.

The tallest walls of the strongest pillars of earth
Were smashed into rubbles.
The military brain of the most powerful
Was bitterly shaken and moved
And its economic might seriously humbled.

The unthinkable indeed became a reality
When the days of the crusades and jihad, 
Were almost repeated
When that radical arm of that religio – political society,
Penetrated the defences of that well defended country

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I knew they were wrong
In the northern region
When their eyes cried a river
When their feet stumbled the rocky ground
When hands feeble couldn’t carry a spoon

I knew they were wrong
In the dumpy smelly streets
When she dropped the baby from between her legs
The glue sweet on her mouth
Her eyes so red, her mind out of this world

I knew they were wrong
That day long I watched the reports
My ears longed for a positive message
But deaths, wars, hunger and crimes majored their words
Why do they sit in the big house of sweet baked rich cake?

I knew they were wrong 
When I saw the big cars
Oh it was election time begging time again
Its been five calendars gone since I last saw them
Today their boots are full, handsome pockets for charity

I’ll say it now, coz tomorrow might never be
We have leant it the hard and easy ways
We know their tricks, like the back of our hands
An A we would all score, on their subjects paper
We know their wrongs, its time they made them right.

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the mirrors and glasses can't help but falling
the tough and the mindless can't help but brawling
when earth's soul gapes through the looking glass
only pure spirits can protect it.

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(A refuge of Lies) Some men claim, to their own shame, to know the American Constitution. Then, oddly prefer, and wicked Judges concur, in the innocent babies exclusion. Yet, our inalienable right; the first one in sight, is to life, that God has rendered. Liberty, then happiness follow in process: deny the first, and all are tendered. Some men, of late, divide Church and State, while religious humanism gains inclusion. I fail to see, for the life of me, how they can reach this conclusion. The Constitutional intent was totally meant, as a curb on Federal power taking. And, lest we forget, all other power yet, was reserved for states and people's making. The pact don't mandate separation of Church and state: that was culled from Jefferson's private letter. So, don't claim, as some, that it came from, the Constitution, - for we know better. Pride - the father of sin, bade this evil come in, and twisted the truth into a lie. I pray God awaken some for the battle to come; that America's promise will not die. Forgive this wicked sin, bid us to come in, to a most Holy reformation. Lord, let us see thy work in that decree, and turn us from national ruination. See Constitution, Declaration of Independence,and Bill of Rights. Lionel

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Crazy World

Crazy World

It’s funny how
The universities are still in business
Of producing graduates
That speak funny English
And hardly make invention
And the stock market falls
Down street tumbles
That lets people buy
And make profit
Like grandpa used to say,
True intellectualism died
In the year 1929
With the rise in acumen inflation
It was then that
This Federal Reserve of Ignorance
The true villain of this quandary
Traces its genesis
Hope that explains succinct
This universal impotence

Details | ABC | |

vote (by kimmy holmes, my daughter)

I will vote
who shall it be?
Who will make a difference to me?
For my country
I gave a few years
Not my life
Now my tears
My soldiers, they deserve
my thoughts and prayers
I will vote
and hope not to error.

Details | ABC | |

The Worship Of Man's Reason

(Let no trust be vested in men, but bind them 
down with the chains of the Constitution)

The wave of the future for disaffected man;
such a noble experiment, our revolutionary plan.
World wide in scope, humanity’s salvation;
workers paradise, we’ll bring to every nation.

Utopia we’ll build, making all things new,
From the ash-heap of Capitalism and Monarchy too.
A socialist world is our humanist creed;
Securing the future, fulfilling all need.

That, opiate of the people, religion, must go.
Materialism shall prevail, all we atheists know.
From each, his abilities, to each one his need;
we’ve charted the course, the masses we lead.

Yet, the masses are dumb, they don’t understand,
so we use the whip, as we lead by the hand.
The firing squad too, for those who equivocate,
to insure a better tomorrow, we also learn to hate.

Counter-revolutionaries - we had to do them in;
required men to inform, even on their next of kin.
Mass killing for the cause, the end justifies the means;
starvation and deprivation to insure our lofty dreams.

Our collapse came too soon, we didn’t have the time,
to perfect our glorious system - punish every crime.
The proletariats were unthankful, tho’ for them we did it all.
Now, we find approval only in the western academic hall.


Prov. 16:25 “ There is a way that seemeth right to a man, 
but the end thereof is the way of death.”

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whose to blame when the law is to blame

we become fugitives in our
own outlets when the law
has put us to shame and
unnecessary blame
we violenly revolt like refractory
horses,its such a cruel shame 
who the runnaways are,elegory
like shakeshere in that windy tempest
himself,than miranda,the category
of africas aggrevation is unclassified

Details | ABC | |


With the promise of heaven on earth
As if our problems they do care
Upon the thousands of castles built in the air
They still live on planet earth

Oh Mr politician!
The words of your mouth soothes
Through my ears, they give me a boost
The filling of pockets in a day to its brim
Made me to believe you can really brag

No wonder just beside you are the miss Ghana's as your spouse
For abundant of lies, your mouth can really browse
When in the need of my frailing thumb
What a potrician!

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Devil's Miners - To The Messiah

If i could, I’d veil the earth
And keep it far without your view,
I’d wrap its bulk and hide its shape.
But that would be a waste of time.
Your eyes are those that see the depths
Of  the  deepest  bluest  seas.
I look around and feel so grieved
By what I see on mother Earth.
Are these the beings you meant to save?
Their steps have left the golden path.

The congregation you so loved,
Has had indeed a twisted turn:
I see an alter, two men then,
And then I see a priest clad in white,
Hands stretched out in your name,
For man and man to live as one:
Blasphemy is their heritage
From Pharisees of long ago.
They’ve sold the rod you gave to them
To guide your sheep to fields of green,
And took instead their fill of gold,
To get themselves more robes and gems.
Are these the ones you left to lead?
Their every deed profanes your name!

The fragile brand you took from man
Prattles much about her place.
They top their men and bring discord.
The rules you gave on modesty,
Are just as right as purple skies.
The sacredness of two as one
Is all around the busy streets,
And everyone can get a piece,
Except, of course, their purse be dry.
Our consciences are in our bags,
We know no boundaries in our minds.
I see a door, I see ten bolts,
That veil landlords like refugees
From those to whom all wealth belongs.
The touch of gold, so smooth and good,
Has bought the consciences of men,
And turned us all into miners,
Miners on the devil’s mine!

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Blind Seers

It all began when the blind seers
Took the step and trusted their sight.
It was dark, the night was cold,
The storm had dropped, places were damp
When the torch-bearers brought their light.
Their words were warm, their speeches tuned.
That was all it took to steal some hearts.
Yet, just before the fowl could yawn,
A little before the dark could bleach,
Away they bolted with everything;
Walking sticks, clothes, shoes and all.
But the seers didn’t see that coming
Since they be not like those
That do see with their ears
And trust not in high-sounding words.

Details | ABC | |


Brother, brother, pray, help me out;
Climb the ladder to the top,
And bring down the pawpaw fruit.

Brother, brother, you got it now.
Climb the ladder down, let us share
And taste the joy of brotherhood.

Brother, brother, bring forth the fruit
You were to pluck with your hand of power,
And send some down to the lower man.

Brother, brother, treat me not so.
Recollect the kindly deed i did,
And let me taste of the fruit.

Brother, brother, cling to the top,
But I envy you no more,
As while you’re there, i see your shame!

Details | ABC | |


We are down on a sandy beach
And our legs dug deep in the sand of pain
Left stranded in the sea of sadness
The night of destruction falling on us with extreme darkness
Hovering on us the venom of evil
With rain drops of blood on our land
The storm getting heavier by the day
The flame of hope blown away by wind of wickedness
We live in a country where no one is safe
Where death darken the sky like an imminent doom 
Where the majority live in ardent poverty
A land where corruption is at its peak
Our leaders the master chef to all our miseries
With eyes of blind spot to the need of the people
Deaf ears to the cry of the innocent
Blind eyes to the sufferings of the poor
The beat of political madness stirs in the air
With sound wave of pain to all the citizen of the land
Human lives valued only for a couple of coins and a few naira note
Innocent blood shed all in the name of political game
The taste of power and excessive desire for wealth
Sum with their selfish and political greed
Puts our dear nation in a state of unrest 
Children of innocent souls being tortured through burning knife of evil
Leaving the youths to live their lives in fear
Our girls are no longer safe to go to school
Terrorism the bad sweet smell polluting our atmosphere
With it effect on us an horrible scar
People being nurtured to the highest point of hatred
With every of their road leading to violence and terrorism 
Little by little we are losing our national pride
Our economy dropping faster than the speed of sound
Our leaders failing in every good sense of leadership
With the interest of the people far from their mind
From the cry of the rejected and abused children
To the tears of the suffering and confused adult
Same questions comes to the mind of every nigerian
Why do we have to suffer this much?
Are our leaders so blind to see that the nation is on a downhill of destruction?
How long will it take for them to hear our cry?
And what will it take for everything to change for good?
I guess only God has the answers to all this questions
And the golden key to our freedom
All will have to do is to keep praying
And keep hold of our little flame of hope
Cos one day I believe everything will change for good

Details | ABC | |

to the dogs

…to the dogs

He stared at the damp chilly night 
and marveled in frustration
seeing nothing at all -
except the black night

So many years ruined dancing to the same tune
days and night overlapping into an endless timeless space

Indigence, parched throats, empty ragged pockets…
guns persist as unflawed blood flows into the filthy cesspools
maggie dogs, scavenger, urchins all blend into one
all in a split race for the a place in the bins

At first light 
blurred images flash past his eyes 
cheese and butter, wines, champagne, music and festivals
laughter and smiles
- the taste of a gone era

Flashy cars with tinted windows speed by
on the highway 
towards the glass towers and 
the affluence beyond the mind’s eyes

Numerous gaps along the road 
shattered dreams, tattered bridges
dyed-in -the-wool banal lip services

A curse from the bowels of the earth or 
is it a monster 
from our flesh and bones 
or both?

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Mr. "Somebody"

"Inside a world that changes every day,
Inside a world that nobody remembers the day after,
Mr. "Somebody" tries to learn the values and principles of life
in reading mythologies and fairytales.

I am so sorry Mr. "Somebody"
You will find no happily ever after."

Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved

Details | ABC | |

Between Two evils no choice

Between two evils
No choice
But if you forced
Take the one
Less evil
No one can say
You done
A good choice!

Details | ABC | |


We have gathered today 
To filter the pain 
To let time slip away 
With no words left to say. 

We are left in this mess 
Of hate and regret 
No meanings are meant 
Still people are sent. 

We are lost out in space 
With fear on our face 
No track to retrace 
No love to embrace. 

We stand in the sands 
with blood on our hands 
Guns in our bands 
Still united we stand.

Details | ABC | |

Ode To Everything We Take For Granted

We all know what living is
We all had our lives given to us.
On a silver platter, a road for life mapped out for us,
but we aren't always serious
about the people near and dear to us,
because we're usually delirious about the life we take for granted.

When we have roofs over our heads
and sheets on our bed 
then how come on the streets people
are frozen with defeat and have to compete for some food.

How can we watch people's lives fall when they stand against a wall with a sign?
No use at all, praying to god as their pride crumbles.

We watch them stumble with their heads down low and nowhere to go and I think,
Where is the kindness planted?
Why do we take our lives for granted?

How could we stoop so low while we live in houses they have nowhere to go
- couldn't we lend them something...
Oh no, one person could make a difference if they spoke out loud
show their faces to the crowd.
A difference could be made
all of us could be of aid.

So dear reader I hope you see
the message that coming from me
and as I've gone on and almost ranted
Why do we take our lives for granted?!

Details | ABC | |

Dilemma shoes or suits

African politicians
They buy
Italian suits
When they really
Need shoes
I know
That is not making you

We need
Not politicians
With bright suits
And bare feet

What happen
No more like Mandela
OR Gandhi
Our schools
OR mothers
Change their minds

I don't know
But we should think
What we need
Bright suits
Pair of shoes
What people is need
Is genuine leaders
Not bad copy

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Death Mad and Blind

Dot-matrix monotony beasts,
Bring endless agonies and fake archetypes,
To drown the silent scream of nothing inside.
I know now why you turn up the noise.

Hide your ears, as they pound on the drum of sadism.
Because I howl the song of terror.
And now we both become batteries.  
You the positive, I the negative,
Existing purely to give power to the another.

Their box of lights bleeds our minds.
With a thousand meaningless babbles,
Like over-zealous wasps.
Senselessly knotting round and around.
Constricting mind, body and soul.

Under this monochrome sky,
In this thick, wet, air,
They are almost tangible.
Tasted, smelt, but never heard
Cartoon wraiths flitting at the periphery.

Not waiting, not feeling.  
Blind mechanical bats.
Without voice or form.
They feed my failings,
Fattening me for the feast.

But they hold no malice,
Just a circuit with terror as it’s current.
They no more hate my soul, 
Than the fox hates the rabbit.

Fearing these surrogate pulses, 
I pull a blackened hide over my shoulders,
And with snakes for eyes, I pull on chainmail gloves.
The metal cuts my skin, the rotting hide constricts
 My last breath bears a spirit,
Which eats the sky like a rusty knife.

Details | ABC | |


Africa Africa Africa
When shall we be
First of all mankinds,
Now the worst of all mankinds
Gifted with several languages,
Speaks that of an alien
Oh Africa!
When shall we be

Africa Africa Africa
When shall we be
Breasted with most resources,
Benefits from least resources
Superior in lands and strengths,
Inferior in minds and skills
Oh Africa
When shall we be

Africa Africa Africa
When shall we be
First of all mankinds,
Now the worst of all mankinds
Gifted with several languages,
Speaks that of an alien
Oh Africa
When shall we be
Africa Africa Africa
When shall we be…
Breasted with most resources,
Benefits from least resources
Superior in lands and strengths,
Inferior in minds and skills
Oh Africa
When shall we be…

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Politicians are hypocrites
They never listen, always
making the wrong decisions 
The truth is forbidden at all
times hidden. 

The reality is we’re dealing 
with villains who consume us
with their Phony vision. The
mission is to possess total 
submission while Hypocrites 
feed us with their selfish 

Be careful for hypocrites come
in sheep coats pretending as 
peace makers but inside they
soul takers. 

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The revolution comes
on silent feet of anger
survivor guilt
The entitled children of those who wouldn't go
wouldn't dare
wouldn't stand
sit looking over America
on silent haunches
of power
inherited provision and decision
and would move on
but for those standing shoulder to shoulder in the blood
from gifts of lives, futures, fortunes of those they know by name
from battlefields around the world for the freedom of others.
And the revolution comes, 
on silent feet of anger 
deeper than the blood.

by E. Marshall Evans

Details | ABC | |

Titled Untitled

Im looking for inspiration 
instead god gives me patience
you see he wants me to cure a nation
of violence and hatred
bias and racists 
all weapons of Satan 
he plays the part of patron 
but its your soul hell be taking 
and your thoughts will be shaken 
leave your heart darker than a Haitian  
so im going to cement these words like a mason 
into the youth because time we’ve been wasting 
like an hourglass with a hole that is gaping 

going after the politicians who are raping 
society while the media is taping
we got to find a way to take them 
away from the money that im making
tired of making late payments 
because my senators driveway needs new pavement
wondering where my god went 
while im searching got to dodge rent
cuz all my money got spent
ain’t got a damn dime in my pocket
couldn’t even pay a hot girl a compliment
so how can i remain confident 
in a new medicare package
when my people in Iraq is 
dying just to get cheaper gas man
im about to go in blasting 
verbal shots to them bastards
lawyers , politicians and pastors
all make money with every casket 
like they’ve made it a task kid
filling death certificates like a basket
and they continue to mask it 
but the make up is running fast kid 
so maybe we will all get past this 
before i get old like past tense 
cuz ive been trying back since 
bush was in office 
and im still appalled with 
the judicial process 
your guilty till proven innocent
so in a sense 
your innocence 
has been disregarded since 
they constituted no constitution
and ****ed your over with amendments 
but they don’t mend shit
and im offended because when they said
we the people"i thought they meant it 
and ima end with 
**** a president with the long dick of the government 
so maybe they’ll know what its like to get screwed by their countrymen

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have desire to achieve personal goal
knownly this concept is called Ambition

 take every step to reach his destination
truth was not being considered in ambition

 rise so high to his every personal intention
popular general rule for every amibition

  desire somewhat resembles with aristocracy
democracy doesn"t chase to any ambition

 we would get one day in this world a prefection
aimee thinks ! wrong perception for any ambition