Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Satire Poems

Below are the all-time best Satire poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Satire poems written by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Satire Poems

Search for Satire poems, articles about Satire poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Satire poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Satire Poems
Read Satire Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Satire Poem | |

23 warning signs that you are severely addicted to poetrysoup dot com



1) Since you have such a crazy drive to post every thought which goes through your mind, you consider posting your grocery lists.

2) You come up with another lame senryu just to post something new(and create a cheap entry for yet another contest).

3) Even though you post everything which comes to mind, post 3+ poems per day, every day, you believe all of your posts to be exemplary pieces.

4) (in relation to #3) You believe all of the "This is a masterpiece!" comments left on your poems, to be completely sincere.

5) You have the tendency to ignore that you are nearing 60 years of age. You put up avatars of yourself, circa 1971, and flirt with nearly every Souper below the supposed age of 30.

6) Instead of having a romantic evening with your significant other, you end up surfing the Soup blogs and drooling over member avatars.

7) After being single for 15 years, a completely compatible person asks you on a date. You decline the offer, end up surfing the Soup blogs and drooling over member avatars.

8) The admin makes an announcement concerning site maintenance, how the site might be down for 24 hrs -- upon reading the announcement, your stomach drops-out, you are filled with a phantasmagoric sense of doom which escalates into a bout of nihilism so strong, you consider methadone treatment to prepare yourself for the upcoming site-shutdown.

9) You begin methadone treatment in preparation for the two hours you will be away from the Soup(and awake)attending your best friend's funeral.

10) Your sleep-time has drastically altered to less than 4 hours of sleep per night. This is for various reasons, one of these being that every week you feel the need to leave a minimum of 1000 comments on poems, so whenever you post something new, the 'return' comments on said post, help push it up the 'Top 100 Recent Poems' list. You consider this to be an accomplishment akin to winning the Nobel Prize in Literature. You are awesome.

11) Instead of watching your favourite soap opera on the booby, you follow the soaps happening between Soupers in the blogs.

12) Every time you get a splinter, you have a strong urge to put up a blog about it to gain support and sympathy during your ordeal.

13) You put up blogs telling members that you are going to be 'gone' for 2 days, and apologize for not "being there for everyone" while away from the site.

14) After not seeing daylight for months on end, you put up a blog about seeing the most amazing thing .... you finally went outside and saw this blazing orb in the .... in the .... in the whatchamacallit, sky?

15) You forget to say "Merry Christmas!" to your family at home, but 'say' it in the Christmas blog that you put up on the Soup.

16) You forget your significant other's Birthday, but remember the Birthday of your favourite 'platonic' Souper.

17) Whenever you see or hear the word "Soup", your palms become itchy and you can barely contain yourself from using a computer/phone to login to poetrysoup.com.

18) You believe that if a poem rhymes, it is automatically a decently written poem.

19) In desperation, your family members and friends create accounts on the Soup, believing this to be the only way left to interact with you. In return, you have your account deleted and open a new one under an assumed pen-name.

20) You make the rounds each new day leaving "Good Morning!" comments on your friend's poems.

21) You go on vacation to an exotic beach location. The weather is gorgeous. The water is wonderfully warm. The sand is splendid. You don't swim in the wonderfully warm water. You don't take in the sights of the beach. You barely even notice the beach. Instead, you log onto the Soup via your laptop/phone.

22) Your children are hungry. You barely even know who your children are anymore. You don't care. *click* *clickety-click*

23) Your significant other finally offers to "do THAT thing"(yes, THAT one!)you've always fantasized him/her doing with you, but until now, he/she has always refused to fulfill for you. Now .... you don't care. *click* *clickety-click* 










+/-

Details | Satire Poem | |

Halloween on the Dark Side of Town

It's a nightmare down on Elm Street. Satan's waiting here at home.
Where's that little Freddy Krueger with his nails of sharpened chrome?
And that dearest Michael Myers, as he's always sure to call?
Halloween won't be so keen without some slashers in the hall.

They're all meeting up with Jason and the other demon spawn
to pay Old Scratch a visit, so I'll leave the porch light on.
I'm your sugar devil daddy and I'll tempt you if I can,
so now open up those goody bags, cause I'm your candy man.

Welcome, all you little zombies. Here, I've got some flesh for you!
It's in a candy wrapper and so much easier to chew.
Just hold out your plastic treat bag, and hold off eating me.
The junk I'm gonna give you tastes much better than my knee.

It's so loaded up with sugar, you'll be bouncing off the walls.
So go ahead and gorge yourselves and fill the bathroom stalls.
Kneel before the porcelain god or use the toilet sink.
You can always use the practice now, for later when you drink.

You can't take a piece of healthy fruit or any home-made treat.
The media have made damn sure it's only junk food that you'll eat.
So celebrate my holiday and consume till it's obscene.
Welcome into my domain... and Happy Halloween!

October 15, 2014

Details | Satire Poem | |

Mirror, Lie to Me

I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me

I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick

Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!

My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
Perhaps it’s hard to focus
When I feel so dazed

Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake

I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams

Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!

Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Satire Poem | |

Quo Vadis poetry, a damsel in distress-w

Captive damsel of creative-writing programs,   
Personalized, eulogized job of small groups,  
The frenetic activities handy to very few,  
Poetry now belongs to a subculture hew. 

We have accredited professional poets,   
Creative writing teachers at all levels,  
Composing computer- created poetry, 
Creating illusion of the Golden Age artistry. 

These professional poets have secured
Their own niches in the academic world, 
They cry over the spilt milk like jackals
Snarling over a dried-up well with no aims.

Quantitative work is guaranteed success,
Accuracy, meaning, technique matters less. 

=================================
Fourth place winner
Contest: Poetry for poetry's sake of Paula Swanson
Quo Vadis is a Latin phrase meaning "Where going"

Details | Satire Poem | |

The Circles

Looked at the outside of steel window
Around in the dark, awesome feelings into the mid-night air
What the news was brought in the feelings!

Eyes of the orphan cat was flaming on the corridor.

Waiting for the light in the window 
Dark vision comes down into my eyes by cycle-weariness
Down from one circle to another circle in time-blindness

Who stands here, the Islamic old man!
Frustrated vision!
History of terrorism was carved on his burnt body
He wants to say something!

A white-complexioned Christian young man stands into the neighbor circle,
Surprised eyes! 
White-skinned history was printed on his blood-stained body 
He wants to know something!

A dark-colored Hindu boy stands into the third circle, 
Illusive vision!
History of third world is awaken on his envenomed body
He wants a little smile!

The old man, young man and boy are coming forward from the circles
Great distance...Near...in front the room... 
Who are you? No reply
They disappear into the tuberose equipped black and white photo of my father
Dad is smiling, I am senseless! 

Tears are dropping from the eyes of our cat on the corridor.

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA

Details | Satire Poem | |

My butt crack

My butt crack 
Is quite a split 
It supports the rest of me 
when I sit 
you thought I was gonna say something else didn't you ?

My butt crack 
Is a marvel to behold 
It was cute when I was young 
but now offensive since I'm old 

My butt crack 
Is pretty darn straight 
can you imagine if it was crooked 
pretty weird sight I would rate 

My butt crack 
Is funny to me 
when I bend over in my jeans 
It peeks out 
for you to see 

My butt crack 
wanted me to write this today 
for no other reason 
then just to say......................

I gotta split 


LOL 

Eric (and sometimes not)

Details | Satire Poem | |

Granny Panty Annie, the Tranny

Lemme tell ya' about a
*ding-bat skit-zo 
bee-hotch* tranny
named Annie...

I met her one night 
under disco lights 
up at Candies

She was 
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin' ta' see 
if I wanted a piece
of he 
OR
of she 
by way of flashin' granny panties

She was
shootin' pool
actin' a fool
so I 
took a shot
and one tiny glance 
but got caught

So I
lit up a smoke
and tried to play it off cool
but it was too late
she had pulled up a stool

She slurred,
"Hey young felluh, where ya' been all my life!"

I replied, 
"Sorry to burst yir' bubble, but I got a wife!"

"That don't matter kid, what she don't know won't hurt the girl" 
as she fisted my collar and yelled, "I'LL ROCK YIR' WORLD! Annie the Tranny is what they call me. Bet you been wanted ta' bone me since you first saw me!"

Fear and frustration danced on my face
I begged the bouncer to 
"Get this he/she outta the place!"

My pleas were to no avail, 
and that sea donkey lurked hot on my trail
flailin' it's arms and grindin' bar stools with it's tail

Speakin' of tails...
a shiny blue wale tail crept up her back
Her jeans were mean, but couldn't hold her underwear's elastic slack
but at least it beat feastin' eyes upon her crack
then she... 
wrapped her grimy hands around my neck and asked, 
"You n' me, boy, what the heck!?!"

I screamed,
"Look here lady, you seem real nice for a tranny;
but...
ya' see...
ya' need 
to hit the bricks,
you
and yir' Granny Panties!"

At that point the joint started to really heat up
people were glarin' like they really wanted me beat up
I can't recall how the hell I got out of there 
alive and free
it was like a big manly freight train
headin' dead at me

I'm pretty sure I owe the good Lord a big favor
that beast was the devil
and Jesus was my Savior!

It's a night I thought would never end... 
the night at Candies Bar n' Grill
Granny Panty Annie got a thrill 
tryin' to make me her sexy friend!!!




Details | Satire Poem | |

The Soup Reich


The Fuhrer's deceit is baked with OCD tendencies,
one hand doling it out to the masses,
while the other hand places more checkpoints
along the already tightly surveilled perimeter.

The Fuhrer's Souper Troopers, Gestapo and Souparazzi
scour the Soup halls for any anomalies,
for any Resistance Fighters of literature
who might distract the masses' attention

away from the Fuhrer's spotlight. And there! Hark
the Herald Demons, the Head Pig pounds the podium,
refocuses the little piggies' minutely distracted attention
with tales of fearful monsters, uniting the crowd

against a common enemy. 

Divide the mind, to conquer it. "Divide and Conquer,"
whisper the Fuhrer's elite henchmen
as they send-out another wave of soupmail propaganda,
while running fingers across the mustaches dangling

from their rat-faces like miniature toupees meant for 
the now-aged Ken dolls stricken with cancer from eating 
too many GMO Swastika corn-dogs and Huns.burger Helper --
cannibalistic swine eating their own kind. "Sieg Heil!" 

The little piggies devour Swastika slop from their troughs:
big lies broken down, fed to them over time
until they squeal dolefully, piggies wrapped in blankets
waiting for another bribed lullaby to help them fall asleep.

Poor little piggies. Believing themselves to have no talent
of their own, they ride on the barbeque sauce coat tails of a 
one-trick pony-pig Fuhrer -- selling short their own deserved
spotlight to a fugazi masquerading as a 24 Carat saint.







July 22nd, 2013

________________________________________________________



"Take the greatest deceits, decorate them with gold and hand them out as gifts. 
When the masses have swallowed the contents, you can make these people 
believe and do anything." - Adolf Hitler
 
 "The more we do to you, the less you seem to believe we are doing it."
- Dr. Joseph Mengele

"The most common characteristic of all police states, is intimidation by surveillance. Citizens know they are being watched and overheard. Their mail is being examined. Their homes can be invaded. When citizens alter their natural conduct via the fear of being watched, truth becomes suppressed when public discussion turns into whispers." - Vance Packard

"To silence satire, is to silence freedom." - Sidney Hook

“The true essence of a dictatorship is in fact not its regularity, but its unpredictability and caprice; those who live under it must never be able to relax, must never be quite sure if they have followed the rules correctly or not.” 
- Christopher Hitchens, Hitch-22: A Memoir

“The first truth is that the liberty of a democracy is not safe if the people tolerate the growth of private power to a point where it becomes stronger than their democratic state itself. That, in its essence, is fascism -- ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or by any other controlling private power." 
- Franklin D. Roosevelt


*Author's Note: This satire does not involve the TPS administration.





+/-

Details | Satire Poem | |

My Slutty Aunt's Wedding

I shook my head
Knew the day’d be messy
Some poor sap
Was marrying my Aunt Bessie

She’d slept with half of Brooklyn
Flaunting her exploits all through town
The mayor, the banker, the deli clerk
Even the birthday party clown

A wedding gown, so fitted
Her bellybutton showed
Boobs shoved up high enough
To violate building code

Minutes before the shindig
She pulled me on the roof
Snatched a flask from her garter belt
Downing one hundred ninety proof

She wanted to call it off
No way she could comply
To promise for all her life
To only screw one guy

I told her she could do it
Like many other people do
She finally calmed down 
And made her wedding day debut 

She stumbled down the aisle
Tripping on her gown
Her daddy kept her steady
‘til the pastor stared her down

She blushed but pulled together 
Long enough to give her vows
After the ceremonial kiss
Everyone went to carouse

Letting loose at the reception
She danced with all the boys
Twirling, flashing, grinning
Making all kinds of noise

I’d like to say things ended well
That monogamy she would master
But before the night was over
She got naked with the pastor

For Andrea's "Show Me the Funny" Contest


Details | Satire Poem | |

Cyber real

Has the convenience of technology 
inoculated us from reality?
Do androids dream of electric sheep?
I pray the code my soul to keep?
Does your universe live within 4G
Or megapixel infinity?
Which memory lies within
The one that was
Or the one that's been
Or how much gig how much ram?
Which reality is true?
Cyber me
Or cyber you?
Cyber bully
Cyber crime
Cyber hate 
Cyber time?
Cyber boxer
Or cyber brief?
Who is the real identity thief?
Cyber pleasure
Cyber pain
Hours spent glaring into the screen
Choosing an alternate username.
Status updates and trending tweets
Fill your mind and rob your sleep.
Clever hashtags and Instagram 
Will shape your image and gain more friends.
Is the you you've shaped in cyberspace 
The same you I'd see face to face?
We hide behind our computer screens
And criticize with brutal ease.
Virtual reality
Is buying souls of men you see 
And robbing the ability to dream real dreams.
I want to conquer something real
That I can grab that I can feel.
I want to touch life and hold on tight
I want to unblock true friends
And "like" real sights.
I want conversation face to face
In real world time
In a real world place.

Details | Satire Poem | |

Egos on Display

So many people complain when they lose

To gain better rankings, judges they schmooze

And if they don’t place, their egos are bruised

They even use blogs simply to recuse

To some extent, these attacks may amuse

But their true intent is to light a fuse

Comments from favor seekers surely ooze

Superlatives they always overuse

They don’t know how to give honest reviews

“Luv” is a word they quite often misuse

Seeking to have their poems perused

But tell them the truth and they’ll sing the blues

It’s a game of getting comments and views

If you don’t play, they will transfuse

Words of anger from an inadequate muse




Details | Satire Poem | |

Goodbye, Saint Joseph's School -- Elton John

*Sung to the tune of Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.”  Intended to be taken 
humorously.  


“When are you gonna grow up?
It is in jail you will land
You’ll have to stay after class
And I’ll be talking to your old man”


     “You know you can’t hold me forever
     The last school bus is now due
     You can’t rap my knuckles with your ruler now
     Stand in my way and I’ll just run through
     So nah, nah, nah…

     “So goodbye, St. Joseph’s School
     Where the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ were cruel
     The Catholic school’s finally closing
     The lunchroom’s stopped serving gruel

     “I’m taking that bus, might never get off
     Don’t want to face my Dad’s wrath
     Oh, I’ve finally decided to free myself
     And set out on my own path
     So nah, nah, nah…”


“How can you earn a living?
You can’t even spell your name
You’ll be required to take some remedial courses
And stop playing silly head games”


     “Maybe you’ll get a new convent
     I hear there’s some room in Brazil
     Students there might appreciate
     A no-nonsense sister with a voice shrill
     So nah, nah, nah…

     “So goodbye, St. Joseph’s School
     Where the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ were crude
     The altar boys have been set free
     The priests are no longer lewd

     “I’d like to stay, watch them raze it
     The site with torture imposed
     Where skeletons still hide in the closets
     Nevermore to be exposed
     So nah, nah, nah…”



*For John Heck’s “Dear John” contest.  
Those of us who attended St. Joseph’s just learned the school is being closed.  
Although a good education was provided, some students were beaten there repeatedly.  
I feel a good education was provided, but they went overboard with discipline.  

Details | Satire Poem | |

America: A Rant with Attendant Anecdotes, Amplifications, Dogmas, Harangues and Digressions

This ain't my first rodeo, so knowing the score more than four
I declare in this manure-flinging system of elected despotism
we ain't got no permanent friends, just permanent interests.
America's a dazzling chupacabra of a conceit
conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition
that shades of equality increase the gross market share.
We supplant the visible etchings of the colonial lash
with the invisible ones of debt by procuring more *****we don't need.
Breathless canaries in a cultural coal-mine,
fascicled to Breaking Bad, Mad Men and the Simpsons,
shackled to Amazon 's 'Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought'
we're driven out toward the oceans beneath Europa's baker's sugar crust
where freedom exists on a mono-cellular level
but knowing we 're not alone doesn't amount to manure 
cuz they ain't Christian microbes so they ain't gonna be no use to us.
Like wind before the thunder the supple susurrus of my heart 
sends frissons of pleasure jolting though my *****
bloated to such Brobdingnagian dimensions
as to feel at home in the hallowed aisles of Costco or Sam's Club.
Our finger wagging Uncle has overstayed his welcome,
So **** your tired, your poor -
you're taking away jobs from real Americans.
**** your huddled masses yearning to breathe free -
your emergency room doctor visits are costing taxpayers $2286 a pop.
**** the wretched refuse of your teeming shore -
we already have enough garbage to fill our landfills
Just gimme my VIZIO 80” Razor LED™ 3D Smart TV  for my eye candy
Gimme my  Google Nexus 8 cell phone cuz Steve Jobs can suck my dick
Gimme my Fidelio X1 headphones so I don't miss the subtle nuances in Willie Nelson's 
Gimme my Nestlé Crunch Girl Scout candy bars for my sweet tooth and latent pedophilia
Gimme my Dial Triple Moisture Body cuz my balls got a stank like 3 day old crawdads
Gimme my Quilted Northern Ultra Plush toilet tissue cuz my ass needs TLC and backdoor action
Gimme my Fruit Smoothie Shakers so I don't have to get gouged by some turban mofo at Jamba Juice
Gimme my Gillette Fusion ProGlide Power Razor so I don't look like Jesus-F-Christ or a sandnigger
Gimme my Lash Factor Eyelash Conditioner cuz flirtatious love winks should be unconditional

America's soul is shrinking and vanishing like glaciers.
Grackles ebonize the sky where once proud eagles soared.
With God's help, America will rise again like the body of Christ after a good whooping!
Come on y'all - don't let my patriotic rant spoil a perfectly good Klan rally.

Details | Satire Poem | |

Crossed Me At The Borderline, Just In Time

-------------------------------------- ~*note: done in fun and aimed at no one~  



try and seed my name you'll concede to shame
no use in calling names to lose the game

yir' ill will is just plain disastrous 
asinine avatars deserve an asterisk

as for being fact-less, your slaps don't diss
every lick you spit simply tends to miss

harmless words that curse, rehearsed childishness
gets your face erased and they'll say who's next

as defilement arrives inside your text
that's when shame wheels you back, right to the nest.


~10 syllables in each of 10 rhyming lines~

Details | Satire Poem | |

Opinion


Every one’s got an opinion
We are entitled to our views
But, we won’t all agree the 
Difference often times are 
Huge
Somehow the simpler the 
Problem harder the 
Moot
Layering instead of issues 
Open wounds
And personalized attacks 
Are used
A point of contention is
The deliberate disguising of
The truth 
Distorting facts
Figures assembled by rote
Really there are a lot to be
Desired
Having regards to the distance
Between what had first prompt 
The opinion
And the reasoning that led
To this irrational tirade and suit
A stuck in a bog like situation
Ensue 
Like the dreaded dream state 
Being awake and can’t speak 
Move or do what you want to
While the root rot
The debates rambles on 
Unable to; save quip,
Get a grip on solid ground
Consensus pursuit 

Details | Satire Poem | |

Facebook

Friends

Acting

Crazy

Everyone

Being

Of

One

Kind

Details | Satire Poem | |

Write a Song of Freedom

take:
a pocketful of rice
a handful of millet
a roll of the dice

put it in a tin can
wrap it up with tape
tie on a wooden spoon
to shake it for a price




14.12.2013

Details | Satire Poem | |

What Became of the Soul Stripped from Johnson:

"Sedimentary, my dear Watson."

Details | Satire Poem | |

StarCrossed Lovers

If your face is on my mind,
your eyes held glimmering in mine,
the taste and feel of smooth sweet skin,
the passion burning within,
my resolve falls to tatters,
your love is all,
that matters.

Please,
don't let your next words be a joke,
I'm searching desperately,
for the truth you once spoke.
If flickers like lamplight inside of you,
you can't understand the power,
of what your words do.

A simple caress,
the calm intake of your breath,
the soft strength of your arms,
I'm captivated, entranced, enthralled.

Sharp tongue,
daggers for words,
steel eyes,
all things that hurt. 

Will you lead me,
like Romeo led Juliet to their death,
already you steal my breath.

Details | Satire Poem | |

My Torment

A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun

Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion

The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me

And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul

And then that familiar salty smell 
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things

Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts

And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher

Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror

There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same

Details | Satire Poem | |

Newspaper

The paper lay flat
on a low reading table,

yet thick in it's pages,
a days worth of fable.

Our library bright with it's
rays to it's sills

and the paper bleached white
with a grey side of gills.

It's HEADLINE in blue
relaxing your eyes.

Large print making stories
seem simpler than size.

Text in black letters;
dragged out into words.

Knowledge you crave for.
Ideas in herds.

News from a paper
pressed for attention.

Left on a table
as though for detention.

Details | Satire Poem | |

Give me a break I am PMS ing

I may slap you, curse you, smack you
Don’t get too serious honey, its monthly fun
I am PMS ing and my trauma is true
Be my gentleman and Pass My Shotgun

I may hate your friends and knock them down
Be any handsome man or cute chick
Don’t get them here when I am around
I am PMS ing, People Make me Sick

I may laugh out loud at your silly jokes
And the very next moment won’t find them funny
That catastrophic emotional trauma pokes
I am PMS ing, its Psychotic Mood Shift honey

Every month, within me I sense this ruinous storm
It’s not me honey, this phantom is Premenstrual Syndrome

Details | Satire Poem | |

She Sold Her Soul in a Bathroom Mirror

Wicked Witches vicious Wishes
Worst of Curses Hexed
Paranormal Victim Witness
Poltergeist are Vexed
Rows of Sixes Superstitious
Sacred Scrolls and text
I see dishes fly malicious
And She is surely next.
Sold Her Soul and burnt the Bridges-
The Devils love Her Best!

*ABAB Witchcraft Contest Entry*

~JustThatArchaicPoet

Details | Satire Poem | |

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 | Satire Poem | |

Things Fall Apart

Adamant mindsets
In a modern setup,
Vibrant visions evaporates
To emptiness, nothingness and waywardness.
Leaving the people in stark darkness,
Leading to nowhere,
As penury is declared "king",
Hunger succeeds the throne
As blind leaders  hardened the 
Economy like bone.
Giving peanuts to the peasants
But gold for the wealthy,
Oh! what a chess game in the midst
Of blind spectators.....
Mothers swaying in tattered rags,
Struggling with drying breasts which 
Produces the hopeful milk of the skinny infants...
Children strolling with empty plates
Searching for who to wet their throats.
Fathers planting courage and assurance,
Hoping the land will be milky someday,
Yet the center is not holding
For heads are plenty but the brains are few...
Therefore turning weakening hearts
To marauding crooks,
Victimizing themselves,
Staining their whites,
Be litling their lives,
Insulting their hands
Making the land stink,
While Africa bears the smell,
To the detriment of her virtue. 
Our agricultural and peaceful 
"green white green", they've turned to 
A dark and bloody "red black red".
Now who leads who in this
Criminal war front, corrupt justice
And indecisive generation?
Things fall apart when truth step aside,
Evil takes the lead when black minds
Score the goal...
Things fall apart when the people can't merge.