These Sonnet Political poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Political. These are the best examples of Sonnet Political poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Will liberty ring out again,
beneath the cries of human rights
can freedom's name survive,
dissembling and lies;
Will duty from its prison flee
throw off its shackled memory,
is respect just a word,
spoken,but never heard:
How long,how long 'til I becomes thee ?
when ,when, will ego bend the knee,
the victim is not me
my friend,my friend,it's we.
Who rings this bell of liberty
truly sounds,our culture's death knell.
Does it really matter who actually eventually wins
As we voters give our lives, do they give us their skins
Do they really care about who votes them into power
As we voters give our lives, in power, us, they devour
How many do remember, where they actually came from
And do they walk our walk, when voted in sing song
How can we trust their hand, their smile when they need us
And their continual door to us closed, all because we make a fuss
Our fuss we make is not born, it's created in our lives
How many of us remember, it's in their voted strive
When does our strive resist, to be taken as we exist
For many days to weeks, we're in continual wanting persist
Whether Democrat or Republican, when elected look into voters eyes
Or be forgotten from hence you came, and in us we'll soon despise
THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN
February 13, 1945
Pathfinders lit the night to show the way
for bombardiers too hungry for the word;
as Dresden's dark was made as light as day,
all hearts were stopped before the blasts were heard;
and as the din was heard by all their ears
the sound it made was not reality
but far removed from all the hopes and fears
and what they thought would never come to be.
They loved the Fuhrer--sin enough for all
to die the fiery death of sweet revenge
brought on by those who had enough of gall
to drop their loads in wartimes heated binge!
And when the fire consumed all that it could
the winter of their lives was understood.
-- James Ph. Kotsybar
The zombies are coming; no one knows why –
no time to ponder such things anyhow.
Apocalypse gives us no time to cry.
Survival is all we can think of now.
They hunt for us in slow, relentless mobs
and push past all our barricades by force.
We stifle our screams and swallow our sobs
to realize we are just their food source.
There may exist a ruling, safe elite –
the privileged who caused our current woes
and watch us as we’re torn apart like meat –
but likely they’re no better off. Who knows?
For us, they won’t sweep in to save the day.
To them, we never mattered anyway.
From the north silently it comes down the river,
invisible, radioactive, combining with *acid rain.
Nuclear power, cheap energy, a cancer giver
and all we love will end, if we don't chose to refrain.
So fueled by greed, we chew up the earth for coal to burn,
blackening the skies and butchering the mountain side,
all so that we can drive SUV's with total unconcern,
laughing at the third world, on the globe, we stand astride.
The black-outs, *brown-outs, oh the anarchy of light's blight
creating a sickly yellow miasma's where few stars shine.
And cities of cave dwellers who never see the night,
turn shades of puce and pink by neon lights malign.
Soon, I'm sure, we'll redefine the nature of what's pure,
and Seri's *app will tell what game to eat ...and the cure.
Arise, you song birds sing in morning dew;
The flow’ry host to colour fields and furrows,
And sap of Spring runs gold in willows veins;
As tender leaves unfold to speak of birth,
Fresh mountain ranges iced give life anew—
While waters melt and stream through cricks and borrows
The gleams of light will melt the winter strains
Though spills of oil have quenched the songs of earth.
The corporate sting of greedful revenue,
Has bankrupt natural wonders—greedy farrows
The eagle has no pow’r to save her eggs,
Tall forests fall and crush the robin’s hue
When flow’ry petals change to black on yellow—
The spotted fawns arise with warbled legs
beams of mid-
relaxed on their
trap us their
experts of the
A fiction of
promises bind in
To be gently
spilled on the
nods from our
And in trash
cans, those art-
rust like my old
Leaving us to
drown with our
anointed liar is
on course for
the next tenure.
Promises were made when you sought my vote
I swallowed your lies and it gets my goat
The changes you vowed did not come to pass
Where are those tax breaks for the middle class?
And what became of "peace in the Mideast"?
November will prove voter support has ceased
Congress exempts itself from their own mandates
No equal rights in these United States
Partisanship leads us down a dark road
The Tea Party's kettle is set to explode
Republicans, Democrats, please take heed
You've targets on your backs; soon you will bleed
A quick ticket home will be your reward
We the people won't buy lies anymore
*For the Outrageous Rhyme challenge
The generous seas do roam vividly,
And sacred words spoken earnestly.
People suffer and people go to war,
I just hope these words will go afar.
Yesterday I published a FREE book,
Indeed a feat of altruism, no crook!
I suffer in silence in every moment.
I have no money to publish a stunt.
I was just hoping for word-of-mouth
And email propagation as loudmouth.
Book is at: http://bookbooster.com/newage.htm
I accept feedback just at: email@example.com
OFFICIALLY THE MOST ELOQUENT STORY TELLING POETRY BOOK EVER WRITTEN
-ALL NON FICTION- (This spiel typed in the spur of the moment - God Bless you)
DRIFTING IN THE HALE-BOPP
The puzzle comes apart deep in the sky;
calls nothing that is concrete to the mind;
as far as we can tell and meets the eye
the reason for the tail's not ours to find.
We stand confused, and only guess at why
the wonder of it all has stilled our voice
did David Korish ever really die?
and is it all worked out, with little choice?
Mount Carmel but a coming of an age
the catostrophic ending of mistake,
what hope is there to ever quell the rage
appeassing what is wrong, for honors sake?
Is there a sign that's ever flown the sky
or is it just a dream where-in we die?
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet