Best Bandwagon Poems
Four in one, nine baptised,
I hear you say legalised fraudlence,
Promises air-conditioned highways and streets,
Salaries and wages without working,
An easy life made sweet and comfortable.
Now, all can join the bandwagon of rigging,
Of Moonslide Marsslide victories,
With babies and peoples ritually sacrificed,
Received with glee by their lord,
The god of politricks.
That was his last dime
Spinning his favorite song
I have seen him before
A couple of times
Long enough to say so slong
What is my fear
That I study in him
How a man can fall off
Not fall ...
The bandwagon picking up
Direlicts
We ought to pay more attention
To the prevention of things like this
That make the evening news
Man's tears have never saved
Anything ... quite a bad sign then
They should not make guns
So prevalent.
Come one, come all who'll follow me
don't fear repeating history
ignore your greed and stupidity
what we need is a common enemy
The material that I will now recite
for you angry, hateful folks tonight
will hopefully, in you incite
a twisted sense of freedom's might
A platform, based upon a pogrom
is a bandwagon you can all get on;
for my second term, there'll be lebensraum
and we'll only need to drop one bomb
We'll need no walls; we'll need no borders
once we establish the complete new order
but first we need to stem the flow
before we're ready to make them go
So, don't delay, vote for me today
and I'll be giving out coupons for holidays
a week of relaxing in the sun,
but only for United States citizens
(1)
Strophe
Slowly and slowly fly the mighty feathers:
the uncanny wrath bearer, the poacher's prey,
the bald bizzare stigmatic cryptic creature, the ecology's majestic role player;
the curtain raiser of ecosystem's air purifier.
Alas! Your iconographic role is omitted,
you, the saviour of the mortal race
from the contagious diseases.
Astounded! How you uncontaminated dear environment.
Your poaching has taken away
the soul of the balanced ecosystem;
crucial is saviour friend's presence, on the verge of extinction plight might have horrid ripple effect!
(2)
Antistrophe
Irony! The friend's void can't be substituted by mere replicas of sustainable development;
the diminishing existence will
drastically affect the local food webs!
How alluring to have a glimpse
of the hunch and tuck of the bird's head in the cold,
flapping and fluttering the wings,
stretching the neck in the heat!
You, remain aloft for hours,
soars gracefully on long broad wings;
with dazzling sharp eyes
from the highlands to pick the carrion!
(3)
Epode
Your iconographic presence is being honoured by the myths, legends, fables of civilizations from ages.
High time to contemplate, to introspect,
to jump into the ecosystem's integral bandwagon:
as pivotal to rescue and redeem the bird's friendly endangered existence!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
Why should the mimic apologize?
Where are the cupboards?
Where are the wages?
Where is the tailor? I had
no use for algebra, I knew it-
in as much incognito on a prefabricated track,
in order that....
free thinking then supposing,
til warning for dreamless help provided,
a typewritten treat from this meditative cell on
a bi-directional night, just as incensing this layer, once
shouting, against kaleidoscoped winds...
Will the dubious cartoon walk on top of the comparison?
or will the prevailing keystroke provoke a smashing debt?
Their marriage possessed an alcoholic copyright.
just as the about face twists the rear....
A wizard paces..... surveying the blackboard
just when a scholar stands,
and rocks across a page, so that unless
Some author squeezes, a western dialect,
lest now his leisure violates,
a once welcomed, road of gold on the critical side, in as much until
and even faster still, a projecting spontaneous cricket,
now in a graveyard embarrassed by his wasteful song,
messy thoughts, broken prized belief,
sweeping away the cheat,
disregarding the window from the top,
so that a porter yawns,
outside the offending captor, who wears a wolf pendant,
underneath the inside havoc, if only
the technology collapses before
the funerals, thick attack, talk on top,
of frozen outlines, and a leather sofa cracked,
from opinions changing, as correspondence leaked,
so behind smoke, a fire of desire lurking near the conflicting repertoire,
next to the guilty bystander, raining like a thief, now interferes, who
stirs the sticks... across the crossroads,
Can the music spin the guilty onto a bandwagon until the other staggering strangers advancing,
to the next fizzy, dizzy, bog...
while guides await in order to assault corrupted fantasies,
beside crystal strips, where rusty knights in armor, sitting on a park bench
trying every half measure,
disturbing breezes,
in the haze of memories. Stir these random thoughts and let their impressions talk to you and one another.
Who knows how the mind really works?
I knew a killer,
He went by the name
of not guilty.
He was supposed
to be a neighbor in the hood who watched,
But instead got caught up like an alcoholic
salivating over a bottle of scotch.
When he saw a black teen
he dismissed his orders
and hopped,
Onto the bandwagon to comfort his desire
to activate that racist gene that initiated that shot.
Any coincidence to others lost on the spot?
Excuse the New Kids,
We have another innocent teenager dead on the block.
I Can't Breathe
I can't breathe when truth is choked out
can not stand by and not toss truth with a shout
I can't fathom the mind it does take
to ignore truth and race onward with a fake
Story that is so easy to rightly disprove
promote a lie to get going such a violent move
Anything goes to run such a political scam
I reject this fraud with all that I am
Win battles with truth as your shield
deceitful tactics will never force right to yield
A man dies, find out the true medical cause
spinning yarns gives decent folks time to pause
Ponder the reason hatred thrives on bold lies
Hate finds fertile ground whenever truth dies
Robert Lindley 12-08-2014
note. An honest person, a person with integrity will
find the truth before joining the bandwagon of lies.
Sad that a man died because of a stupid law but dying because
of bad health issues is not murder by police. Truth is
no choke hold was used.
"I can't breathe truth did so moan,
darkness gloats as light has now gone
Lying blade cuts like a razor knife,
wounds sought to stir hatred and strife!"
A SHAME THAT THE LEADING BLOG AUTHOR HERE SCREAMING ON THIS SUBJECT (ASKING FOR POEMS) HAS ME BLOCKED FROM REPLYING THERE ABOUT MY POEM ON THE SUBJECT.
I guess banning truth goes in with the agenda for some , eh?
Finished before start
Colts fans leap from Bandwagon
Peyton Manning's hurt
The young generation, who believe in dissolution,
promulgating the manifesto
“tradition is the grave of the banality,
only solecism is the quickening of new life…”
yell upholding a flag similar to a bad check
which is unable to secure the needed guarantee for the debt.
They are sycophantic speculators hopping on the bandwagon
of the time, they are nothing but a product of a certain moment
of the swinging pendulum, their unfounded thought changes in consonance with the direction and the amplitude of the pendulum.
Although they think highly of themselves,
they assert themselves as the forerunner of the times,
actually, they are unbridled reckless colts jumping, hopping,
and running blindly in the wilderness.
They consider heteronomy as a shackle,
they, therefore, rush to a smithy and heat the shackles to cut it off,
they insist upon autonomy as the beat of the heart,
they, therefore, lay on the cold operating table to cut it open
to see the inside of the heart bearing an excruciating pain
but they found it full of red and blue blood
clotted in two atrium and two ventricles, the blood
contaminated with filthy and turbid human minds
which carried on from generations of generations
of past unchanged.
They try to ascend their thoughts, nonetheless,
above the traditional ones, it’s nothing more than
a word game, a disgusting prank.
Are they mad? Though they cannot even jump
nor have wings, they try to fly,
ah, poor generation, ill, crooked, lost,
who were not even touched by a drop of Medusa’s
poisonous blood, flap wings imitating Pegasus about to fly.
“Peach”
What have I done,
To deserve this peach?
The Lord only knows,
How many they’ll reach.
You know the media,
And how they preach.
Abuse of their right,
To Freedom of Speech.
My name is Donald Trump,
And I’m here to say,
Watch how the others,
Will try to get you to sway.
Whether it’s the truth,
Or a bold-face lie,
Some people tend to only,
Follow the other guy.
They campaign against me,
And may continue to grow.
My question is to you,
What do you KNOW?
I ask this directly because,
Facts of my case should matter!
Have you, yourself ever been,
A part of the latter?
Research for fact or fiction,
Please make an informed decision.
For what you ultimately decide,
Could cause a major collision.
Jump on their bandwagon,
Only if you feel you must.
Knowing all the facts,
Magnifies the massive unjust.
Whether a report is fake or real,
Determines the truth or lie,
Some people will tend to follow
The path of the other guy.
The peach counts are rising,
Total up to 1.4 million now.
Another question I ask to you,
Have you checked the DOW?
During the slander, you may have missed,
The economy shining so very bright.
Or unemployment at an all-time low,
With no indication of end in sight.
“Make America Great Again!”
You see, is what I say,
Why don’t you appreciate,
What I do for our country every day?
I speak to command you today,
To stick with your gut,
As you know what’s right,
It is clearly open and shut.
What have I done,
To deserve this peach?
You and I know,
It’s a far, far reach!
Let us come together as one,
By using our speech,
We can spread the word,
And proudly use it to teach.
Together we have the power,
Let’s make the reach.
We can merry together as one,
And set out to preach.
The truth is paramount,
Not a figure of speech.
We will win this fight,
This Battle of Impeach.
My Name is Donald Trump,
And I am here to stay.
A mere speed bump,
Is causing minor delays.
This peach I speak about,
Really isn’t that sweet.
Support me as you always have,
And we will fight as a mighty fleet.
I am the President,
I will always proudly shout,
Of the United States of America,
I am without a shadow of doubt.
My favorite musical when I was a little girl was the Wizard of Oz. I knew every song and I loved the portrayal of the characters too. I tried to see what was unique about each and every one of them and I even tried to pretend I wore Dorothy's shoes. I tried to skip like her and I even tried to find all the dogs in my neighborhood that looked like Toto. I was so wrapped up into the fantasy of that musical and it wasn't until just last week that I jumped on the bandwagon again.
I was driving down the road and I was trying to remember all the lyrics to the Wicked Witch Song. You know the one! The one where Dorothy stumbled upon the Wicked Witch of the West and her ugly toes and striped socks curled up beneath the house. Oh I just get so frustrated when I can't remember the lyrics to my favorite childhood songs. I speed dialed my sister Melanie and we began to sing together until we could piece the lyrics back together for one of the funniest moments I have had in a long time. "It really was no miracle. It happened just like this..." And we went on and on and on singing every song we could recall until we laughed ourselves silly. Golly, I just loved that movie! And I love to share funny memories with my sister Melanie too. I wonder what the other people driving beside me were thinking....hahahah...I love my sister THIS MUCH!!!!
She’s dead
But will always stay alive
A beacon for everyone with a gripe
Thatcher snatcher was their war cry
When with apparent vigour
She tore asunder all society held dear
A divisive strong willed fighter
With femininity covering a steely frame
She moved gracefully among men
A force of reckoning
In a world sphere where enemies are held dear
She finally met her maker
But will never die
Her legacy outlives her presence
A formidable opponent now in a grave
With glee they gloat
Ding dong the wicked witch is finally dead
Praises and condemnation come from all over the globe
Some will assess her on her overall impact
Both then and until now
Others will always remember wrongs
That were brutally inflicted
On an apparently obedient society and country
Dragging us away from our empire building
Death always calls
He will not be out smarted
No matter the heights in politics one reaches
An end of a life
Often brings a renewed interest in the past
The bandwagon has catapulted her
Back into The limelight
When she was almost forgotten
To divide and rule seemed to have been her best skill
Her un-bending no alternative mantra
Caused much ill-will
Yet the country prospered
The right to buy scheme made
Home ownership possible
A vote buying scheme
That made the middle class grow
Pity the milk tokens are what condemns her so
She hammered a few who with
Entrenched special interest
Mangled the country
Stagnating both the economy
And society
The belief in individuality
Coupled with free market economics
Set up a house of cards that blew over
Long before she breathed her last
Virulent machismo
Where the sharks circled
Even when they smelt no blood
Overcame her eventually
She was of course partly to blame
But no one has ruled since as she did
A woman in a man’s world was she
Wielding much power
Over the men that surrounded her
Over Her party and ultimately a short sighted country
To the pinnacle of both party
And country she rose
Her handbag swung far and wide
Her three times victory
A testimony to her longevity
And he ability to play the system
She didn't invent
Rest In peace
Or pieces Maggie
You came
You Conquered and
Have now left the stage
Your legacy will be fought over incessantly
My Castle.
My Castle is on the white ivory clouds,
Makes me truly feel very proud.
Guarded by most ferocious dragons,
An army of flying horses in bandwagon.
Has French doors of red colour,
Snow castle worth more than a million dollar.
Each tile is exclusive,first step echoes,
They push behind all today's technos.
Six large designer pillars are evenly spaced,
Have crafts and motifs beautifully showcased.
A grand wooden door opens to a library,
For general horses with rainbow coloured manes sparkly.
A portal magical exist on the last page of books,
To take us to the realm of fairy looks.
Moderate sized fountain gracefully showers,
Fairy committee resides in the castle towers.
Contest:Building Castles in the sky.
Sponsor:Steven Henderson.
10/12/2016.
A Rant – The Quiet Hypocrisy
it seeps in through gradual osmosis
and soon is ingrained in pliant minds
it mutates and thrives in tunnels of vision
and then is fused into the fiber of unreason
the quiet hypocrisy that drips of the tongues
spouting broken words of unfathomable callousness
the mutilated reeking carcass of cynicism
obscured by the veneer of polished discourse
stinks of inaction and of insipid rationalization
the probing and prodding and splintering of each thought
curdles the shallow layer of feeling
interring the basic simple and only humanity
that is gleefully ripped into isolated fragments
the quiet hypocrisy of battles fought and of causes embraced
is plain to see in the faces of the earnest
as they cling onto their bitter loathsome prejudices
whilst buying redemption under a placard of well-meaning
the quiet hypocrisy of these selective battles waged under the flimsy pretense of caring
stinks to the highest heaven promised in mantras and duas and prayers and chants
as the spectacle of the apartheid within the mind is worn on each tailored sleeve
the choosing of these battles in the name of faith and clung onto simply because of a common creed
is a pathetic spectacle of segregated thought
buried under the folds of righteous bluster
so before you jump on that bandwagon of indignation because 'your' people are in pain
take a look at the hidden fascism that simmers just below your holier-than-thou sudden spurt of heartfelt rage
for the quiet hypocrisy that is unknowingly imbibed
is apparent for all to behold
for when the 'other' endure the injustice carried out in 'your' peoples' name
you stand mute and silently complicit for your indignation simply melts away
as the quiet hypocrisy that is firmly rooted in you
exults in pious pretences while 'your' own continue to hate, rape, pillage and slay
it saddens me that so much vitriol drips off my pen in such effervescent times
but I cringe as each moment another quiet hypocrite rants about the despotism of the 'other'
while smiling complacently and smugly and soaking in the quiet hypocrisy of remaining mute about 'my' peoples' own crimes
Form:
people people and people
between peace and war
together yet alone in rally
india survives,thrives
people people and people
between peace and war
together yet alone on polling day
india survives,thrives
people people and people
between peace and war
together yet alone on bandwagon
india survives,thrives