Best Body Politic Poems
An emperor spoke in poetic verse
Which led to fame for him at first
But after some time, it became a curse
For the Emperor had no prose.
Poetic measure determined his fate
The body politic could not relate
Leaving people in a befuddled state
Yes, the Emperor had no prose.
Seeking solutions from all his wise men
Beseeching them each, again and again
"When will poetic proclivity end?
For I'm the Emperor and have no prose!"
Long and hard, the wise men thought
With no answers to the solutions sought
So they hemmed and hawed, yelled, argued and fought,
Still, the Emperor had no prose.
The Emperor ended his quest in time
No cure for his affliction could he find
Relinquished the throne and became a mime
At least he was able to pose!
How do you change a lie into the truth?
Alchemy, dear children ...
this is how it's done, using unverifiable proof
First, you take a sick, dirty lie,
and doctor it up as truth
Whitewash and scrub it clean,
then jet power it with unsubstantiated verbal steam
That should make the lie thoroughly sanitized
Then play a continuous sound byte loop,
uncorroborated and fact-free
Present the fake news with a five-star salute,
then say secrecy is the true path to liberty
This rings eerily like New Age alchemy,
bell-tolling Faustian chemistry
If that ain't a manufactured alternate reality,
then somebody is lying to us obviously
How do you do this, change a lie into the truth?
Alchemy, dear children ...
this is how it's done, using fabricated proof
Next, you take a package,
and deliver it to the people,
with a Trojan horse message inside
But the people don't know it's harmful,
because they labeled it with a lie
See, that's the beauty of deception,
they don't call a lie a lie
Instead they choose another word,
as they place the pirate patch over their eye
Misleading, false claims
Plausible deniability
mis-remembering
Choose whichever words you will,
a lie is a lie is a lie still
Changing a word won't make a falsehood real
Taste the propaganda spoiled sauerkraut;
as alternative facts are trotted out,
and disinformation is bandied about
Know that immoral alchemy is being performed
by high wizards of the dark arts
Frankenstein experiments in need of more body parts
Don't be bewitched by lying craft,
don't get (con)fused by this manipulative graft
into a cancerous body politic
Changing a lie into the truth
is the ultimate alchemist trick
Gangsta politicians,
falling stars ... twinkling
of an eye
disappearing
Leper lips
halitosis blowing
Got there gun clips
and stacked deck
poker chips ...
Sin City bullets overflowing
Body politic,
staph tongue infection
Still the voters ain’t
getting sick
and tired of the lies
Coming from the mouth of frogs,
whose sticky words
attract a swarm of flies
Gangsta politicians,
falling stars ... Babel Tower wishing
Twitchy finger hearts
on the nuclear trigger
Hope got a tarry start
Poof!
The next moment
whole cities were disappearing
Spotted skin suits,
so profiteering from the mutated pain
Rotten to the root,
nether mind laws neglect the suffering
You can scream
up to the top tear of your lungs,
but corporate desert adders can’t hear
Dare to dream,
poll take the right party plunge ...
Now, does that pledge lessen the fear?
Gangsta politicians
demand sycophant loyalty
Falling stars
want your eyes bowed down
before their flag
Begging for a peace of crumb
on your trembling knees
Can’t you see,
can not you read
the tea leaves?
Future past
is on a thundercloud roll
Terrifying prophecies
have so long ago foretold
how the end’s gonna be
Gangsta politricians,
Rublecon paws ... blood-licking
Houdini toes,
the next moment,
without a cash trace disappearing
Falling stars
want you joined
to their holster hips
Taking a serpentine bullet ride
to the bottomless pit
Freedom’s Quest
They bravely set sail and escaped on the Mayflower.
Those first settlers, common people from Europe,
Came ashore from the Atlantic with faith and hope.
Freedom is what they sought.
“No Bishop, no King”
Is what they said.
In a Mayflower Compact,
They established a body politic.
One quest done; four more to go
The American Revolution,
Mr. George Washington,
Independence Day.
Freedom is what they sought.
Freedom is what they obtained.
Three quests more
Abraham Lincoln,
The Civil War,
And Unity.
The cost was high
for the freedom they bought.
Three quests done
Desegregation and equality,
Civil Rights and Martin Luther King.
Bold symbols of the fourth quest.
Freedom: neither free nor cheap
Separation of Church and State,
Moral decline, War and Peace.
O’Hare says, “No Prayer in schools”.
Roe v Wade says, “It’s a woman’s choice”.
Supreme Court says, “Same Sex Marriage”.
Ever fluid, the Spiritual War is ongoing.
Symbols of the fifth quest, ever evolving.
Whether fires of emotion or literal flames,
Freedom’s Quest seems to be packaged in fire.
05052013;3302016PSContest, Where Freedom Finds the Fire
Justin Bordner
He is the one who walks upon it.
Hallowed...from the sacrifice that passed it on.
Home...from infant life that still reposes
in the body. There, it will entreat
with that fair eloquence the body politic
employs--all torn from old nobility
that blood bears in its stream, enriched
from fragments that the heart
has stored away--the jagged memories,
the tears of those we loved,
the bells that sang from towers
still remembered as the years sink down.
It resurrects the dead, this fatherland
that cries for loyalty; its cunning
tries the patient, trips up the ingenue
who sees what is supposed to be
and not what is. It fosters bravery
and blindness, soars upon the winds
of rhetoric, and casts its stones
with khaki kindness at a world
that interferes.
God bless the citizen who follows
on the highway where the marchers
said goodbye, took up their arms,
and faded in the far-off sky. God bless
his vision of returning...bless the faith
he musters for the heroes nigh
at that far turn ahead,
still washed in that pale emptiness
disclosed across the evening sun.
He is the watcher, still,
who hears the bells, and hums along
expectantly...
He is the blessed one.
~
(In Memorium:
For Modern Singapore's
Founding Father,
Mr Lee Kuan Yew, RIP)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
See that body politic
In visionary brave tact;
See that action dynamic
In lovely outcome life facts.
A man of vision lived here
With a fierce, bold loyalty;
A man of passion most dear
Who forged purpose profoundly.
Once in a hundred years we
Are lucky to witness grand;
Once in a vital way see
A soul who fleshed our good ends.
The Singapore way today
Was crafted by bold daring;
The modern city state pays
A tribute to great forging.
Our once upon a time here
Is lived through the humble man;
The life we live now endears
All races to a clear trend.
As a mark of gratitude,
We the people honour you;
For forging faith attitude:
"Thank you Mister Lee Kuan Yew."
Your days upon this good earth
Are over now -- Rest In Peace;
We mourn yet feel a warm mirth:
Your Singapore blooms kind ease.
Leon Enriquez
23 March 2015
Singapore
Roman dignity, what has happened to it all?
This month of March has been something to appall.
I cannot believe our esteemed senators
could possibly become murderous conspirators.
The body of our beloved Gaius Julius
lies bloodied and mutilated before us.
What an act so dastardly and atrocious!
Among the murderers are Marcus Brutus.
Included is his brother-in-law Cassius Longinus.
Another assassin is Servilius Casca.
You also tell me there is Lucius Cornelius Cinna.
How diseased and decrepit is this body politic!
Graft and corruption have ravished the republic!
This murder will lead to acts that are more terrible.
Further bloodshed and civil war appear inevitable.
There is danger aboard in
our land
Talk of hate and persecution
has become the norm
We must be watchful
and guard against
the deepening shadows
growing on the body politic
One does not have to look far
to see the signs of danger
Let haters beware!
There is apart of American
which will not tolerate you
And will take
the necessary action
to stop you
and force you to "close up shop"
and take your hate elsewhere
You hear them everywhere,
spewing their venomous words of hate
And if you're like me,
a lover of peace
Then I implore you, do not take the bait
You see them ubiquitously,
their angry images on electromagnetic waves
And if you're akin to me,
a lover of tranquility
I beg of you, don't succumb to their beastly raves
They're always just a touch away ---
from your laptop, cell phone or tablet
Sending subliminal toxic rhetoric,
spread by way of the digital alphabet
Their violent words are as contagious
as the most virulent Ebola strain
Don't let them seep into your heart,
don't let them circulate to your brain
It's a nasty virus packed full
of strident malevolency
Attacking the body politic
with vitriolic intensity
Your soul's not immune
from its poisonous effect
So purge, then delete
and mentally disconnect
Infection's assured if exposed too long,
a final warning issued to link disengage
Or you will fall sway to the siren song
transmitted by the messengers of rage
I believe there are still honest politicians
Who try to do their best for our country,
While others, out of grandiose ambitions
Couldn’t give a fig, to put it rather bluntly.
Some fashion laws to benefit constituents,
Others pad their pockets, many illegally,
And use their public voices to influence
Our unlearned, ignorant masses gleefully.
We’ve new breeds in D.C., I do mention,
Who seem to do little but be contrary
Saying outrageous things for attention
More appropriate for a peanut gallery!
The hallowed halls of Webster and Clay
Cheapened by Graham and McCarthy,
Whose stances change from day to day.
They are a shameful disgrace, as we see.
Some have championed an insurgency
While spouting the most incredible lies,
Lining pockets with ill-gained currency
Observing while justice gradually dies.
What good has MTG’s term done for us
None! Except getting notice in the press
On the body politic, she’s a noxious pus
Please forgive me, seems that I digress.
But to the point, I think we all can agree
[If not, you have your own point of view],
If we, as Americans, hope to remain free
We must vote out the bums, start anew,
Makes no difference your political stance
Conservatives and liberals, go on a spree
Tired of the same old song and dance?
At the polls let’s vote for a new pedigree!
Written August 8, 2022
[My political rant for today!]
that will neither revolutionize whorled wide web,
nor pollinate like fecund human loam
viz - it mine neurological nuances here
within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,
my present home,
town pulsating with
so called "butterfly effect" ineluctably
fluttering microscopically
like dust motes or invisible foam
(bell leave me) metamorphosed
mental whim, within cranial dome
(in valise case body electric)
covered in 50 + nine slim shades
of gray streaked brown dread fully medium
length lockets i rarely comb,
boot food for thought to set literary stage
before affixing my poetic missive -
from this word wrangler,
hoof hinds himself dumbfounded
at whiz bang of years cuz - just yesterday
aye remembered being a boy,
now i yam more than
half a century since birth didst age.
without further ado
i offer literary missives enclosed
within this body politic spooked
me playful teenage inner child goes "boo"
fur ye to ponder and brew
of his small bread box sized lil motley crue
two daughters due
tee flapped wings, and flew the coop
whereby aye resemble offspring hybrid
ostrich crossed with an emu,
whose deux progeny sired from personal
super reproductive goo
swimming swiftly in
harried styled, swiftly taylor made
viscous tailored tulle lord hue
carrying miniature bin - laden
genetic heritage predominantly Jew
wish with one late uncle Sam,
who preferred to be called cra debt lou
who himself happened to be,
a milch cow frequent moo
wing for bare naked lady gaga friend
winnie mandy della pooh,
which induced inxs doth rue
what comprises Darwinian
Origin of Species to be true
evolutionary biologists versus
Bible thumping creationists claim
with tangible proof as their view
perchance includes you
this chimp bull leaves humans
originated from primate zoo.
By Dawne Zacharias
When the early pioneers landed in 1620
They were weary,
They came to worship the Lord in
The way the scriptures taught.
A Sign hoisted on board the ship said,
"They committed themselves to the Will of God
And resolved to proceed."
Cape Cod sighted on November 19, 1620.
A wooded land up to the edge of plenty.
The Mayflower Compact;
Laid the foundations of the first
civil body politic in America,
The covenant was given and taken;
It Laid the foundations of the
American republic.
No Monarchy or Dictatorship,
but upon, the consent of the governed.
On the Plymouth Rock monument it reads;
"They laid the foundation
of a state wherein every man
through countless ages
should have liberty."
Be thankful, my friend, you live in America
Where liberty and freedom are still prized,
Even when threatened by nasty political lies
Body politic suffering from fake news bulimia
And divisiveness forces you to take up a side,
Stand firm for your basic, fundamental right
To speak your mind, your opinions to write
If everyone around you goes with the tide,
Remember those patriots who stood the test
Who fought to give us ideals we can cherish,
Bled and died that our freedom would flourish
You live in America, still most free of the rest.
Written March 26, 2022
Temporary nirvana (albeit elusive),
nonetheless I strive to access
attaining bliss mine soul bless
exceeding exhilaration winning
(with fewest moves against
deadly opponent) bittersweet game,
where life analogous playing chess
mortality embraced hesitantly, I confess
gnarled, knotted, pitted... old fingers
wrinkled mottled flesh doth dress
unavoidable senescence
upon body politic mortality doth express,
though severely myopic,
yours truly eyewitness
self positing query,
asper meaning of life
oft times rhetorical question fathomless
lacking satisfactory resonance,
this mind strives to second guess
time spent probing haphazardness,
asper gaining insightful purposefulness...
coalesces, sans clarity when idleness
experiences Zen, albeit approximately
inducing light trance smooths jaggedness
inviting mindfulness, lucidness, keenness...
absolute zero distraction eases lamentableness
assuaging, deepening, massaging
psychological state with limitless
ascendence toward manageableness
decreasing mental din and clangor
allowing, enabling, providing...
cerebral nearsightedness
to escape into temporary nothingness,
a foretaste of eternal obliviousness
free from preponderant woes,
incessant sweaty palms, a painless
dimension unfeeling unimaginable quietness
impossible to envision raptness,
when death be not proud reiterates stillness
silencing roiling tempestuousness!
If sound waves
travel the air waves
do we breath them in
like oxygen
to sustain us?
Do they foul up
our bodily functions
like politicians foul up
the body politic
and don't get caught?
Breath in breath out
go to sleep
and pay no attention
to the monsters
under the bed!