Quatrain Political Poems | Quatrain Poems About Political

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Details | Quatrain |

He Was Once a Politician

That's not my elephant! my father said to me
Mine is pink with wings, funnily, he likes to eat spaghetti
I think I'll call him Ella, named after a girl I knew
We danced at the 2nd graders ball, her dress was so see through

My father was once a politician, until his marbles began to set
I visit him as often as I can, introducing as if we'd just met
But somewhere in his confusion, he can recite The Bill of Rights
And once he does he smiles, to me he can still delight

As I turn to leave, to wave goodbye, in his eyes I see a tear
Still reciting The Bill of Rights, smiling from ear to ear
With Ella from the 2nd graders, he smiles in self triumphant
As he points towards the window, it's not pink, that's not my elephant!

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

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King Vlad Redux - Second Cold War

King Vlad Redux – Second Cold War

Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin’s grimy fingerprints on current history
are for him nothing to gloat about—au contraire I say emphatically:
His actions bespeak one who’s not an architect for peace—not at all,
rather a quite deceitful dictator and a harbinger of a Second Cold War.

King Vlad’s old Soviet-style actions are clear for all who care to see,
and make no mistake about it—he’s without remorse and a soul to boot.
A Master of Malarkey and an International Bamboozler Supreme, he
certainly is, with a menacing image and not one iota of conscience.

King Vlad risks a Second Cold War with his violation of international
law concerning the blatant, illegal annexation of the Crimean peninsula.
With his brand of new style Soviet adventurism on the march, the Old 
Soviet Bear has been resurrected anew—and it’s hot on the prowl again!

King Vlad’s new spirit of nationalism for Russia is not at all progressive
as evidenced by his current war on certain ethnic minorities: Jews, Tartars, 
Armenians, Gypsies—to include anyone who chooses to resist and protest
against his new age fanaticism rebranded anew in the twenty-first century.

King Vlad’s lineage to and proclivity for the old Soviet Union and its star
cast of past gangster luminaries: Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev, 
and Andropov—to name a few, are quite telling since they reflect the real
nature of his psyche and the tragedy he brings now to the world stage.

And lest we forget, the innocent souls of the murdered passengers from flight
MH17 in eastern Ukraine who cry out, as do their families, for justice from
the criminal thuggery and hooliganism perpetrated by King Vlad in support
of proxy groups that do his evil biddings soaked in lies, treachery, and deceit.

King Vlad takes pleasure in fulfilling a fanciful role today of the old Soviet
Bolshoi Nachalnik (Big Boss), whose historical antecedents from Soviet Big
Bosses of past fame, doesn’t augur well for future democracy in New Russia,
and doesn’t align with the precepts of good governance and human rights.

King Vlad’s treachery and deception are certainly open for everyone to see 
as he executes his plan of disrupting the balance of the current world order.
We all should be forewarned of the clouds of tyranny and aggression that
could be unleashed one day on the European continent and the world today.

King Vlad, despite very strong objections and economic sanctions imposed
by Western leaders and diplomats, understands only one word rendered so 
poignantly in the German language: die Macht (or Power), which lurks ever  
behind his public mask and psychological makeup as a former KGB officer.

King Vlad’s actions reflect his virtues of lying, denying, accusing, rejecting,
and criticizing—all poison arrows in his quiver as a Master of Prevarication.
His real mask is that of a Monster who had the very best Soviet teachers and 
wishes to tilt the axis of his New Russia on a collision course with the West.

And so Generalissimo Stalin . . . how do you like your nasty little boy now???

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 30, 2014)
(Narrative Quatrain)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

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The Vietnam War

The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed

This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace

With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base

These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews

One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar

The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die

In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail

Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction

Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died

The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind

Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

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Syrian Refugees

I'm watching a programme on telly About the Syrian refugees Men and women and children Humanity brought to its knees I'm watching the desperate faces The terror and hunger and fear They're facing their ultimate nightmare And me? Well I'm just sitting here And saying 'Isn't it awful' 'Something needs to be done' Whilst searching the TV listings And planning my evening of fun Then I happen upon the BBC news Cameron wringing his hands on my screen Saying Syria is a priority Then slips into a black limousine Then Hollande, and Angela Merkel Echo the prime minister's views And tell us how hard they are working Another soundbite for the news Then shoot off to their heads of state dinner Which will go on well into the night While in the camps the tears will continue No dinner for those folks tonight At the meeting, an idea from Turkey Amongst the platitudes and the kind words The plan that they're putting forward Is to drop lots of bombs on the Kurds I flick channels and happen on Tony Blair Offering the world a solution I really can't listen to that grinning clown Spouting his verbal pollution He's jabbering on about Islam Trying to give us the wisdom we lack And hoping the world has forgotten What Bush and him did in Iraq Perhaps he's just a bit jealous That he's not allowed to the feast After finding Saddam's nuclear weapons! A doggy bag surely at least. While another mother loses her children More slaughter and mayhem we see And imagine the arms manufacturers And dealers, jumping with glee As they make another few billions And probably a few billions more Then they'll hide all their dirty old dollars In their financial laundry offshore And the politicians turn a blind eye And I'm sure that they won't be divulging How some of them came by their fat bank accounts And why their back pockets are bulging But then.......success I hear on the news The EU says all is not black They've solved the refugee crisis. When they get here.........we're sending them back. Job done, EU movers and shakers So sorry for doubting your cause You've sorted the Syrian problem Give yourselves a big round of applause © Ron James 05/04/2016

Copyright © Jim Bates | Year Posted 2016

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Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance

James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011

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Driving Under The Influence

“Your honor, after consulting with the District Attorney, we have agreed to a plea bargain agreement. The father, mother and sisters of the victim have requested that in lieu of a jail sentence, justice would better be served if my client be ordered to pay only restitution which would include the following”...
Walk back to that street
Crawl inside that wreck
Feel his last heartbeat
Touch his broken neck

Wake up in their dream
Face their blackest fears
Hear his mother scream
Weep their wretched tears

Stumble through their haze
Hate their morning lights
Trudge through empty days
Dread their sleepless nights

Cower on their edge
Hear their demons hiss
Slip upon their ledge
Fall in their abyss

Toe the line you crossed
Bear the cross you made
Lose what they have lost
Pay the price they paid

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2009

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The Ol' Barn

There was a barn once painted red
that stood on grandpa's old homestead.
T'was built so very long ago -
a sorry sight. I told him so.

I often, as a boy, had wondered
why it hadn't ever timbered.
I knew the sagging rafters creaked
and roof, with missing shingles, leaked.

I stepped inside, the barn doors gone
and found it home for sparrows' song.
Circled they, around freely,
over floors in man's debris.

No matter which way I would glance,
dust in the sunlight rays would dance.
The warning cobwebs seemed to sketch.
Between the timbers, they would stretch.

Foundation laid in cobblestone
but its sure footing wasn't known.
Between the stones were gaping cracks
that could not hide the basic facts.

Now every post in building leaned,
and wall to wall had needed cleaned.
The winter winds would whistle through.
That big ol' barn had lost, I knew.

The weather's sin had taken toll
and wind and sleet had found its soul.
Its only purpose, couldn't render -
so it offered full surrender.

Now that ol' barn is much like us
and in our wants, we make a fuss.
Our sagging souls are so uncouth
that we no longer seek the truth.

Deceit flies in our open door
'til we care little anymore.
We’d rather compromise instead
as cobwebs fill our empty head.

Our minds are filled in sins' debris
with anyone whom we'd agree.
The love is lost between our bones.
It leaves us cold with loosened stones.

Will our beliefs stand firm, upright -
or will we yield to windy blight?
Are we responsible instead, or
is our character really dead?

Down through the years, the time has lapsed
and long ago that barn collapsed.
As I look now at its demise
I listen to the worlds last cries....

©2008 louis gander / ganderpoems.org

Copyright © louis gander | Year Posted 2016

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No Reservation

Do not attempt to entertain with bold atrocities.
Do not think us lulled by mind numbing mediocrity.
The past the present meld, turn and burn with brash idiocy.
Unkindness will relent to core spirituality.

The horrors fed to masses freed or chained in lunacy,
will not debase the Grace of His supremacy.
Humanity WILL RISE, preserving the reality,
Not entertained nor lulled by governmental truancy!

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009

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Fleeting Freedoms

Elderly man’s fishing net hangs in his shed
The fish he caught in his backyard stream multiply
Net use was banned; he couldn’t afford a pole
Joy and sustenance gone, a tear falls from his eye

House Bill 875 would ban backyard farms
Forcing vegetable growers to invest cash
In overpriced produce on supermarket shelves
Uncle Sam flexes his muscle, makes his whip lash

The right to freely worship is endangered
As prayer is prohibited in public schools
Government intrusion invades all our lives
Public pleas are not heard by those who make rules

Freedom to choose our doctors is now threatened
Socialized medicine diminishes choice
Speech censorship? Just ask the Smothers Brothers
Who canceled their own show with a stifled voice

As crime escalates, look to the constitution
The NRA spends billions to protect Americans' rights
To bear arms against oppressors while thieves laugh
And sue owners of homes invaded in the night

Can this be what our forefathers had in mind
When they sought to escape a king’s tyranny?
Our rights are being limited more each day
In a nation spawned to promote liberty

Natural disasters prelude Judgment Day
Eerie escalation – tsunamis, earthquakes
But perhaps when the dust finally settles
Those who survive will learn from our past mistakes

Governments will form only to preserve peace
Not to strip away rights ancestors pursued
Don’t blink!  Precious freedoms are now endangered
By those who feel they’re elected to intrude

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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Pyramid of Corruption

You’re reaching up to the stratosphere
But never guessed the regrets
What’s becoming crystal clear
The higher you go, the darker it gets

The pyramid of worldly power
Both before and after the flood
Human cruelty’s crimson tower
Of exploitation’s bodies and blood

A bone-deep chill as dark altitudes enfold
The ruthless dedication to climb at all costs
Are you truly a creature of the cold
Or do you rue what has been lost?

To join our leaders on television
Foul creatures of fangs and claws
Parading their contempt and derision
For decency, morals, and laws

Our country’s transition abrupt
Its “representatives” reprehensible
So clear that power corrupts
Or merely attracts the corruptible

Smug politicians think they’re clever
And they’re right, those foul goats
They use the Sordid Prince as the lever
To shove the mad Queen down our throats

Another line of the epitaph
Of this dead and decaying democracy
The backroom dealers drink and dine
On the spoils of our plutocracy

The dying tower of destruction
Has its hooks in you, best beware
One chance to avoid soul corruption
Let the 2016 election go and say a prayer

© by Author
Contest: Evil is Everywhere
Sponsor: Brian Davey

Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Nothing Left To Give

When despots buy bullets and guns
we wade through blood to deliver.
And take their cash without remorse
while victims convulse and quiver.

Big egos and pampered palates
impose subsistence starvation.
And enforced illiteracy
results in numbing stagnation.

Children suckle on bitter tears
scratching a living from the earth.
And there’s no escaping their pain
hunger's a penalty of birth.

Governments exploit their people
when they’re too weak to resist.
And their rights are an afterthought
to nations drooling to assist.

A weapon of mass destruction
fear undermines their will to live.
For they're stripped of everything
until there's nothing left to give.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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Miserable is life on earth.
Drab to the life we use to enjoy.
We see sun dancing above, but the brightness only bleaks our persona.
It is a beautiful day outside yet our minds are not alive.

Desperate we seek for remedies not known as
     we question the effects shown.
We may not see the opaquer side, but we are on a quest for insight.
Yet, the deeper we search the more dismal are our lives.

For salvation of what we know, our souls must demand a release.
We must find a way to embrace each other to make ends meet.
If we are not part of structure, our life will remain dreary.
Not anyone can be an emergence of spirit without a reason to be contented.

The reformation of government is imperative.
It informs our lives that we are the greatest intelligence.
That we are of segmentation and variations.
That our cultures expand to another’s individuality.

We must communicate on all levels to understand.
If we cannot define our purpose, we will for sure become extinct.
Mentality is a way of thinking.
Our identity will be lost without a frame of meaning.

Joy comes by night and arrives during daylight.
It forms from transgression of the plight we fight.
When sunset, we anticipate our accomplishments, and
     may we find our engagements were fulfilled.

Our mindset has overcome the quandary.
And, our natures are cohesively involved.
Our country has formed super vision beyond tomorrow.
Plus, our determination is executed and we are inner cores.

Life on earth is our fortitude.
Endurance that we are within.
With grit and courage, our tenacity will be seen.
Our framework is edifice transparency.

This is where limpidity overwhelms opacity!
Written January 8, 2016!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2016

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Pamphlet (Birth of a Constitution)

London’s Guildhall, John Lilburne is frogmarched in
A man Cromwell considered a friend,
To stand before him accused of high treason
His actions against parliament to defend

As radical leader of the ‘Levellers’
John opposed Parliament fervently,
With his clandestine printing network
Speaking out of its tyranny;

Power, John Lilburne argued
Belonged with the common man,
His pamphlet ‘Agreement of the People’
Defined how, in the ‘Levellers Plan’.

In ‘England’s New Chains Discovered’
He urged soldiers and citizens, ‘unite-
Reject the rule of the Grandees!’
He was arrested and charged with mutinous incite.

Cromwell brought him to the Guildhall
Amid the strictest security
Troubled his trial would cause civil unrest,
Such was John’s popularity

Although eventually acquitted and exiled 
He lived the rest of his life a marked man,
And our constitution, today, owes its birth 
To the ideals of his ‘Levellers Plan’. 

Copyright © Janette Fisher | Year Posted 2009

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When innocent got killed, others left,
Beyond the hills to unknown lands,
Escaping death that chased foot prints,
With nothing, just the empty hands.

Helpless *Pandits, became homeless,
Feet on ground and sky over head,
Horror and fear gripped their minds,
Their heart was alive but soul so dead.

Loaded guns, kept looking for them,
The torment they couldn't withstand,
And even in sleep, they would weep,
As they dreamt of their native land.

Empty tents, to call their new home,
At times blew away in wind and cold, 
Years went on, in absolute darkness,
Many shattering stories never got told.

Nothing has changed culprits are free,
Tears have dried in twenty-six years,
With no return, life in exile goes on, 
Still the bitter past, haunts and scares.

March 18, 2016.
Political Ordeal - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: C T 

*Pandits are the aboriginal minority of Kashmir (India). 
Kashmir, God's own land on earth, is the motherland of Kashmiri Pandits. The year 1990, saw a mass exodus of Kashmiri Pandits from their own soil due to threat to their life and, brutal and barbaric killings by the separatists. 
More than 400,000 Kashmiri Pandits were forced to abandon their homeland.
Even today after twenty-six years of their mass exodus, their ordeal continues. The new Modi Government in India has made many promises to them, but so far nothing has been done for their resettlement . Their life in exile continues........

Copyright © Meenakshi Raina | Year Posted 2016

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America's Lament

Slipping gently towards entropy,
Ownership with an apostrophe.
Braid the loose frays of sanity
Till something true finally answers me.

Troops are marching over many lands,
Tagged cornflower blue--a worldwide brand.
Don't speak out or you will be banned,
Towers implode just as they've planned.

Constantine merged Rome's faiths to one
Keeping time and step with Pagans.
Moloch laughs at our dull compassion
While Illuminati goals corrupt conception.

With a punitive eye beneath the skin
Mankind’s been declared the pathogen.
So an age of ignorance was ushered in
With aims to squelch the soul within.

Rotating parties deflect shared shame
Allowing complacency to be blamed.
Splintered populations can be tamed,
And bombs tend to leave bodies maimed.

Thieves steel gold and filch the free press,
Bobble heads working to keep up stress,
Businessmen sponsoring all this mess.
"We've got some pills if you feel depressed..."

We inherently trust their authority
As they outlaw nutrients due to toxicity.
In an effort to organize bioactivity
They count on our enduring apathy.

We protest lies, so they've built some pens.
Peace simply means they'll take our weapons.
"So go buy a widescreen for your den
To watch us start your wars again."

Even the name Bilderberg is a joke.
As they like it they’ve managed to fleece us broke,
Locking humanity into the yoke.
They sold the world lies before they ever spoke.

Crypto-eugenics is a fatal threat,
Academia functioning as a stooge pet.
Look into those eyes; they've got no regret
To kill us all off like they're clearing a debt.

Global control would only serve them well,
Micro chipped souls have no secrets to sell.
Salivate each time you hear their bell
Or they'll call themselves gods chasing you through hell.

Our oppressive puppet liars, they will not quit,
So don't waste breath saying, 'I'll submit.'
Words of our liberty are just and legit,
And truthful self-rule is a righteous fit.

When bureaucrats state dissent is treachery
In truth they've already sold their loyalty,
They still threaten our sovereignty.
Reclaim our human right to be free!

Copyright © John Weber | Year Posted 2008

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 With tyranny appreciated and coercion praised
The noble and gentle are bewildered and dazed

Today the world is simply disenchanted
     Tomorrow there will be many fingers raised

Copyright © Mohammad Yamin | Year Posted 2012

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The City Sleeps

Corridors, power, call it what you like When shadows fall, on this hot June night These walls, this place, I'm absorbed I wonder why They, the inflicted, their embers, we now throw them to the sky Sleeping giants of Auschwitz, in mass production die Good boy psycho killers, into their new world they tread To look for new horizons and leave behind their dread Behind half moon meadow, now decaying in ancestral creep Amidst discarded gates and ditches, this, the city sleeps Their corridors of Epiphany, whilst Christianity weeps <> Written using the track titles to the Touchstones album <> The City Sleeps

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2012

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We're losing our rights very slowly.
We've watched our democracy go.
While the laws are changing for worse.
and communism starting to show.

We'll vote for the people we want
'till the party has it's say.
Then they'll change their mind to act
in a crazy unusual way.

When it comes to political salaries
only they can vote for more.
While it's only we who can't
reject their cost and horror.

We once had the right to privacy.
A warrant would have to ensue.
Now the police take the records they want
and the judge has no weighing to do.

With the cameras recording our crimes.
and the policemen watching to find.
All the problems we have to face
are the victims more bitter than kind.

While the number of poor increase
as the ones with money go broke.
It's always too late to complain
when it's after the fact they spoke.

Now our knowledge is kept up high
while the little men work as drones
and the world will end in poor
while the big men trade in thrones.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2015

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My Confidential Government

My confidential government.
The secrets you must have.
The rumors there about me.
My neighbors come to salve.

My confidential government.
That nothing must get out.
My confidential government.
A stifle for my shout.

A science for your beckon.
Some words as wise as read.
The knowledge you have taken
and shared with other head.

From little men below you,
you only serve to stun.
You've taken all their will-free
and now your times begun.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2014

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The Ladder

I climbed the highest ladder, 
To see what I could see; 
I saw my fellow countrymen, 
Living in poverty

I climbed up even higher, 
Embracing open skies; 
Murder, death and bloodshed, 
Appeared before my eyes

I saw a ruling power, 
The middle class shrank to poor; 
Powerful wars and conflicts, 
Were standing at our doors

I saw hungry children, 
Here, on our native soil; 
Only the rich grew richer, 
Thriving on the wealth of oil

Greed crept upon the land, 
Like thieves in the night; 
They took away our liberty, 
To strengthen their own might

Those who fought in wars, 
Their victories spelled defeat; 
Many returned as heroes, 
Only to wander the streets

I climbed above the highest clouds, 
Beyond where eagles soar; 
Our social security famished, 
No healthcare for the poor

Drugs polluted our communities, 
While terrorists stalked their prey; 
Children spat on their elders, 
Sunny skies were turned to gray

I saw an exchange in power, 
No yield in government rules; 
Technology dined on the obsolete, 
Our economy stolen by fools

With fewer days of promise, 
Though many years of pain; 
The poor are expendable fragments, 
Millions are dying in vain

I climbed as far as I could go, 
To the depths of the galaxy; 
I saw a new beginning, 
With Christ eternally

The poor and oppressed were equal,
While no man ruled in heaven;
I saw love beyond the ladder,
And peace among our brethren

Copyright © Milton Toran | Year Posted 2013

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We're going back to the ways of the church
as our employers enforce their morals.
And our freedom's dismissed when hired
that our speech has been stifled for laurels.

Now the state's separated from church
since the church took away our rights.
Soon the state will be separate from law
that the businesses govern our fights.

Now it's all coming down to the money
as the company's sue for faith.
And the lawyers await their missions
as the law becomes their wraith.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2015

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Political and social insanity

I wander alone through the streets of this town, 
All alone by myself out of sight.
I sit forlorn on a seat, a solo swing of a ride, 
Unnoticed and unseen every night.

My colors are grey, while around me is busy, 
I’m the shadow that people pass by.
Sometimes I’m a hand or a bit of a leg, 
I don’t ask any more, don’t ask why.

I’ve only one thought, does my statement still fit, 
Is my shape what others want, have or need.
Does ME make them question anything at all, 
Question anything in a city of greed.

I’ll be destroyed by tomorrow by the blast of a can, 
Or the burst of a high pressure main.
I’m your typical graffiti on the side of the wall, 
The political and social insane.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2016

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The Malay Pantun: The Non-Party Communal Triumvirate

The Malay Pantun:  The Non-Party Communal Triumvirate

Ursidae carnivora hug and hibernate
   Hypolais polyglottes trill without triumph
Alliance Party* wins and vituperate
   Opposition parties coagulate without lymph

•	The ruling Malaysian communal triumvirate – 
since Independence in 1957.

© T. Wignesan, Paris - 2013

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2013

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Falling of the Edge of the World

I travelled into my thoughts
To somewhere I've never been
The horrors that awaited me
Took me to our human extreme

I cried when I looked through
The windows of our past
And marvelled at what she gave us
I was left in total aghast

In the year two thousand and six
Seven hundred and eighty four
That graced the lands we borrow
Were shown the extinction door

The Tasmanian Devil never nasty
To the Wolves that roamed Alba's land
The Dodo so strange a bird
Were in natures future plans

Twenty eleven now awaits us
Whilst us humans continually strive
Nine hundred and five is now the total
That will never be found alive

Us humans, before we go to sleep
Their falling of the edge of the world
But hey! we'll never change
We're ignorant, and incredibly absurd


Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

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Straight, direct meaning, 
No ambiguity or question, 
Of relationship or hearing, 
Only malicious attestation. 

Seventy-five thousand, 
Killed by the 15 kiloton bomb, 
In one there was no pasture land, 
For the innocent overthrown.

Red fluid permeated, 
Scolded the lungs of the fit, 
No reactions competed, 
With that rupture that lit. 

Never again should war, 
Take the lives of so many, 
Because lifted is the bar, 
On freedom and autonomy.

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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The same deadly story unfolds
Mumbai, Pune, Varanasi
Bombs rip apart our souls
When will stop this atrocity

They come in the form of Demons
Kill in the name of God
Nature created species and humans
Why Humans created God?

Bloated egos fill some minds
Hatred makes the world go blind
We are all born to die
This is not the way, we cry

Swear in the name of dead
To slay in the name of God
Dangerous game triggered by man
The same God will destroy man

Copyright © Suresh Iyer | Year Posted 2010

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The Absurdity of Politics

My brother David met William Geris
A former head of state of Utopia
Having dinner in the city of Paris
They talked about big things

David had plans to run for the state Judiciary
So he discussed it with William Geris, He said
Go ahead David, for me that will be beneficiary
Play the music and let them dance to your tune

Get to the poor folks and promise them heaven on earth
Woo them with sweet words of a better tomorrow
Breaking the cycle of poverty and a prosperity rebirth
Promise them free education and free health care

You need to go to all the churches
Promise them every valley will be filled and every mountain made plain
You need to be charismatic to show you are ready for service
And don’t forget to say your long prayers

You need to hang out with the drug smuggling gangs
To really show you are one of them
Tell them to give you the chance to emancipate them from death pangs
And know well, they love to break laws and ransack state properties

You need to link up with Organization for Youth Ablaze (OYA)
“A Change you can see! A Change you can believe in!!”
Now that is what I call the ‘advertising phase’
Promise them of gargantuan jobs and scholarships

You also need to hung out with the financial gurus
A kind of ’Dating’ before Marriage
Sound it aloud, they are the ones with the clues
Cars-Yes! Gargantuan contracts-Yes! Meetings at some posh hotels-Yes!

Pull the wool over their eyes, indicting songs of hope and peace
But when you lose the election insists on a recount
A diversionary tactics of getting the opposition votes cease
“I’ll slap you so hard that your teeth will come off”

Mr. Geris is this what is on the ground, you call politics?
It looks like I will be a schoolboy fantasy and a sketch cartoon
David, my son most politicians have with them a bag of Poly-ticks
I call it the absurdity of the absurd Poly-tricks

Copyright © Gideon Foli | Year Posted 2013

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Ramsay Roe

I am Flight Sgt Ramsay Roe, and my memories have faded,  
Of my experiences in Burma, and their chronological order, 
But into my memory’s deep recesses i have dug and waded, 
Although the exact sequence of events may be in disorder. 

When i was just due for home leave on my twentieth birthday
On May the 18th in 1945 when I’d done 300 flying hours
I’d been stationed at Jessore in Bangladesh, the Indian way
With the 358 Special Duties Squadron who flew Liberators

I was an Air Gunner/Dispatcher, prepared equipment to drop, 
I was lucky to have survived since so many had passed on, 
Along with the Japanese, our enemy was the weather, flop, 
The monsoon season saw us avoid cumulus nimbus, won. 

It was mountainous terrain, but our skipper who was Phil Adams
Had trained as a native New Zealander in their mountains craggy
And on 28th May i was asked to do one more mission, no qualms
With Flying Officer Harry Smith, one of the crew was new, shaggy

I put all my belongings in order, my kit box and my money box, 
And I left a note stating i had a uniform that was at the cleaner;
And then I met the crew, Jack Draper, Pool, and Harry, the cox, 
Woods, Bill Pugh, Peter Benchley, and Bill Pinckney, gunner. 

“Curly” Copley was a rear gunner, Parsons, and three agents
John Gildee, McCarthy and Naporalski; and a special person
A special agent Reid Moore; so we took off then as regents
At about five past midnight headed for the intended drop zone

Just at about 06:15 hours, when we reached ourselves the target
Near a small village, Klong-Pai, nine Japs appeared from nowhere
Shot us down in a noise and clang that would drown thunder’s fret
Killed Pool, Draper, Pinckney and Brenchley dead, the war to bare

Their bodies were transferred to a war cemetery in Thailand
And all the rest of us were injured, treated in a Japanese hospital
Taken to an internment camp but treated not to badly, tho’ not grand
Because Japanese POW camps were better than the Nazi’s rebuttal

I can’t remember getting out of the plane after the massive crash,
Only that the other survivors were amazed, startled i was alive;
I had shrapnel wounds and burns right down my left leg, ash, 
But i was mobile, and all of the nine of us loved the skipper’s dive.
I got to know the Americans mostly in the concentration camp 
Paired up with one, a Taff Thomas, who was small, unlike me
And we attended the first reunion of our squadrons, did tamp
Forty long years later, when I could thank Harry for saving me

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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Who Are You

Who Are You?

Who are you, and whom do you presume to be? 
Do you see the law court as hesitant to convict? 
Will it take you as a minority, given sympathy? 
To be considered for bending the tough verdict? 

Only sixty percent believe in god, are Christian, 
After all, that’s a small amount indeed, sure! 
It’s as if church and state remain one curtain, 
Together, not a secular politics that can assure. 

Do you think your deeds will never be found?
Never be reckoned with so justice can be done? 
Are you sure it doesn’t matter, you’re sound, 
When your section will become suppression? 

Abuse is not temporary, it lasts for all time, 
In the mind, in the physical, and the social, 
And if you demand silence anymore, just die,
Accept the criticism that’s ardent and vocal. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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we are wise

Promises of better life ,
We all hope for it,
Many cut our hearts with knife,
Armless chairs they sit.

We are wise ;our votes will count ,
Empty words we're tired,
Extreme pressures we will mount,
Deceits have expired.

Contest:Have you tried a 7/5 trochee?

Copyright © olusegun Arowolo | Year Posted 2015