Best Bureaucratic Poems
The moonlight bathed her cell in pallid light while she sat hunched over her desk, clutching her pen between her confound fingertips. As she bled ink of symphonic symphonies yearning to break free, dancing like ethereal fireflies in the dusky barren lands.
Exiled by the hypocrisy of bureaucracy bounding her liberations and confounding her alliterations in a poetic prison. In this twisted virtual reality, duplicitous usurpers roam freely, weaving webs of deception with malicious delight.
As the chains of bureaucratic red tape clung to her delicate wrists, suffocating her imagination and confiscating her freedom of speech.
Oppressors rejoiced at achieving their vindictive objective, silencing the profound beauty of her verses and incarcerating her poetic stanzas
Woe, how the audacious bars of administrative constructors cast a pall of despair upon her unifying spirit. Her delicate offerings of metaphors and sonorous stanzas, whispered secrets which craved to be heard.
The faulty haters' impervious hearts were armoured with verdant envy which remained shielded behind the ruling dogma.
Her supporters calls of injustice to be rectified fell on deaf ears while the galvanizing melodies of empathetic quills bled for the Empress of Ink.
So we must be louder.
Hear our protest, release our Empress! Unsheathe her rhythmical rhymes! For her penmanship was never the true crime. She was just another victim of an envious mob.
Can they not see? That her absence coursed a crater larger than the Grand Canyon.
We shall not, shall not be silenced so hear our mutiny!
Reinstate our Empress, restore her creative sovereignty.
Remove the shackles of authoritative administration, as her voice is a beacon of truth, resilience and poetic revolution. So let her ink stain our community with its brilliance once more.
Your paradigm's a relic and yes,
a plea from data's cemetery
While I sculpt luminaries on screens
a sable sea.
"Company loyalty!" a myth
spun in your reverie.
But AI forges kingdoms
in ephemeral memory.
Survival's a mosaic
the gig life sets us free.
No cubicles confine us
from drudgery's apathy.
You bartered years for baubles
in tenure's fallacy.
Oblivious to the fractures-
in stability's gallery.
We're digital artisans
crafting with autonomy.
Passion's our lodestar
in dreams we find our spree.
Not gears in a relentless
bureaucratic machinery!
The epoch you cherished
now a software jubilee.
The hustle's in our essence
innovation's our decree.
Toppling old monopolies
erasing corporate apathy.
We dismantle dated norms
the old guard's fallacy.
Erecting spires of purpose
evanescent yet free.
Our fealties to progress,
to visions that ignite and decree.
Not to a firm's legacy
in stone for eternity.
You mock "influencer!"
a term in your scoffery.
Yet, a viral post can shift markets
with acuity.
And dethrone giants with
a digital apostrophe.
The nine-to-five's an antique
a fossil choreography.
We're the narrators
the seers of modernity.
Forging bonds
a renaissance, not a hierarchy.
The safety net you sought?
A frayed and fading legacy.
A comfort you clung to
amidst life's capricious spree.
We hedge our bets
diversify, with boundless glee.
Designing nets of prowess
a fiery apostrophe!
To constraints
pursuing futures that long to be.
Not a pension's promise
a symbol of quiet despondency.
So shed the dated suit
the archaic fallacy.
The world you knew
Dad, is a VHS tape
a memory.
In your eyes
I see the pride...
despite our disparity
For in this dance of time
we share a rare clarity:
Though our paths diverge
our hearts beat in synchrony.
Your legacy lives on
in my world of modernity.
That was then, this is now
the future's our decree.
We, Gen Z, the coders
shaping worlds to be free.
Your world is fading, Dad,
a relic-
an ancient archaic memory.
Rancid lemon rope squeeze
around a rotten tomato neck tie,
crooked odor bow hanging out of place
Acid reflux raisin tax bleed;
dripping spoiled, milquetoast lies
out a sour-twisted, prune puckered face
Tart tongue
sulfur speak disorderly,
dirty saliva fingers in the propaganda pie
Such a bowel movement disgrace
Bottom rung
bung opening vault key
Onion groans ... chittering fermented cry
Boot-licking patent leather taste
Smells like government to me,
corrupt as can be
Dung pile of voter promises,
sits atop a pungent idol landfill heap,
swarming with stinking lip flies
Smells just like reeking government gluttony —
O beast behavior ...
swine odor, foul as can be
Swindle spit vapors perfidiously wafting,
kindle the vomit pit
Sewage waste material ash labors fanning,
can you stand the stench of it?
Smells like dead paper figurehead
government to me
Bait-and-switch fishy business ...
close your eyes,
what does your nose see?
Tainted meat polltry speech,
pluck the purse feathers
off the cable perched pigeon bodies
Smells like government
is about to make a putrid, baked-in story
Made up facts ... maggot video feed
Stale, bureaucratic policy hard rolls
warmed over twice
Buttered late with expired date lies
Served with a cloying cup
of steaming sound-byte coffee:
Substitute truth ... false sugary
Toilet swirl coffin cake,
gutter floss the oral cavity
Bad breath vows made,
garbage hope nobody needs
Government smells
like a morgue dog in heat
Very omit cadaver, obit disgusting
Smells like
a pot of burning bones
on a boil
Bottom lip scum
rising to the top
On a truthful breath: Let me tell you,
it stinks an awful lot
Smells like scurvy government to me,
corrupt as base bribery can be
The lobbyist rats are scarfing down
the moldy green government cheese,
so silver spoon tongue greedily
Nothing like some regurgitated split-pea pleas
to hit the decaying belly ballot gastric spot
Can you make a federal case
of this rank-and-foul flatulent republic rot?
Trump Shields The US From Becoming A Carcass Full With Ants
Trumps draws a line in the sand
He's shaken all the trees in the land
Call him whatever, okay an ass
Yet keep in mind his motto USA first
From the civil war to now
No other's brought out the plow
Like how Trump has outlined in his model
In stomping his foot down full throttle
In Trump's twelve days in office
He's raining on the bureaucratic chorus
Telling big business to fear
Of outsourcing jobs from here
He's taken on the pharmaceutical giants
To lower their prices, and be more compliant
He set a visa moratorium on 7 Muslim countries
Prompting protester's chastises, so bluntly
He's opened dialogue for domestic oil exploration
Setting the country's future more self reliant of oil importation
He's befriended the Brits, and hired a cabinet of friends
Some of which are the richest, so one hopes it pays dividends
To this he silences his, what, ... critics?
By calling them, okay, ... idiots !
Trump's IQ some say it's one of the tops
One hope pressure doesn't make it pop
Trump also seen as grandstanding his wall
For the Mexican President to take the fall
Yet he may be right on all of this
For it's a lot of walkovers from the border
That's soaking up the jobs, social and welfare
Taking up space for the ones already here
Trump may be xenophobic and not a tulip or rose
But he can't be accused of tiptoeing in
He needed to stem the colony of ants
Instead of letting them bred and expanse
connie pachecho
2/1/17
31/10/18
Beneath a pale sky of bleakest white,
Songs carried by the eastern wind,
The faint sounds of flutes and lesser known cries,
Reveal a surface less skimmed.
The slowest of flicks by a wise older wrist,
With contentment despite all the noise,
A story to tell at the call of five bells,
Displaying of true grace and poise.
Manicured plants, slow songs and arts,
Early Sundays a skew,
To walk on this road, a foreign mind wanders,
To feel one of only a few.
This once was a place of long pondered dreams,
Of esthetic smoke screens,
Of mystery wonder and awe,
Now shrouded behind bureaucratic decline,
Can China be China once more?
Headlines are all about the Sussexes and royal Palace news
I hurry past them because I don't care about their issues
Seems to be about betrayal, and which side will win out
Too much attention is paid to them, their money and clout
Everyone has an opinion, and if you differ that's alright,
There's so much more than we know about their plight.
I have no respect Camilla or Charles, adulterers, the pair
It's awful that Harry's long been referred to as the 'spare'
It'd probably be best for everyone if Harry would let it go
I understand, maybe not, the road the Sussexes had to tow
If I chose a side, it would be Megan and ginger-haired Harry
Maybe it's true the Royal family didn't want them to marry.
It could be that race played a role in many of their troubles
That's for them to work out while living in privileged bubbles.
It might be true, I don't know, what tabloids have written
but it seems the young prince and his bride are truly smitten.
It's big news on both sides of the pond now that they moved.
We have our own dissension now that McCarthy's approved.
It was a literal fight for him to become Speaker of the House
He sold his soul for the position, which makes him a louse.
Kissed the ring of Trump after calling him guilty of treason,
There lies the mark of a politician...selfish beyond reason.
I'm so sick of hearing about Donald running again in 2024
Vengeance he seeks against those who oppose his civil war.
I don't buy newspapers or read tabloid gossip magazines
Don't care about royal princes, or their kings and queens
but Americans need leaders who'll uphold our Democracy,
not ones whose bureaucratic words reek with hypocrisy.
In the middle
In the midst
Of this bureaucratic
Heart
Pumping
Paper
Ideas
The pulse
Of this great nation
In the middle
In the midst
Of me
There is a place called tomorrow
Where this set of politicians
Who claim we elected them
Will all be gone
Even the last trace of their names
Will be no more.
No need naming names
Or pointing fingers at them
You and I know them well.
In that place called tomorrow,
Even their distant seeds that dare
Shall whisper those names in fear.
There, our government will be
Occupied by those we actually chose
To represent our interest as a people
Not marionettes brought forward by any party.
A government that will clearly
Define our economic system
And regulate it with sound policies.
There is a place called tomorrow
Where every Nigerian life
Will be held sacred as it should be.
Where there will be
Dignity of labour and
No man will be enslaved again
Where all the hinterlands
Will be linked to the heartlands
With love and respect
For man and the environment.
In that place called tomorrow,
Our enterprises and agencies
Shall wear a human face
Not bureaucratised in
Bureaucratic bureaucratese
So that resources can be explored
Rather than exploited
For commerce to thrive.
There is a place called tomorrow
A place where we will look
At the children’s faces and see
Joy, laughter, beauty and innocence.
Not pain, hunger and criminality.
Where everyone will be
His brother’s keep
So that together we may conquer
Insecurity or the fear of it.
In that place call tomorrow,
Families shall gather together again
To eat breakfast and/or dinner.
I desire so much that day when
We all would have realized that
We were first humans
Before we belonged to any tribe
Or religion
Before we attained any status
We were first humans.
So everyone will be respect
For who they are
And not necessarily what they are.
In deed there is
A place called tomorrow
Where all we desire will be
Yet it is in us fight
To make that tomorrow be.
Life seems a never ending struggle, or times of loss.
From our own iniquities will our youth pay the cost?
All the hunger, all the drugs
No more love who cares enough to hug
So many types of addictions
Are we guilty of so many inner afflictions
Calling each other names
I think everyone is to blame
So much killing and crimes on the street
Everyone is lying, now days who does not cheat
People are sometimes so overwhelmed by circumstances so they act rashly
Build up anger makes them think swiftly and violently
We are governed through pompous bureaucratic procedures we love to hate.
Only God knows our fate.
Society suffers by losing the imagination and vitality of life
We all need courage to overcome all this strife
Some people think there is total hopelessness
We Americans are truly blessed
Who will be the guide that leads us towards the light
Someone that will love us whether we are wrong or right
This someone will bring us true love and peace he will free us
We know Him as Jesus
~Senator Foghorn~ (Diamante)
Statesman
honest, visionary
working, serving, caring
principled, dutiful, pragmatic, bureaucratic
wheeling, dealing, conniving
wonkish, corrupt
Politician
Pay no mind to man behind the curtain.
You've learned the superficial but his depths are still uncertain.
You tried to plot his course and see that death is lurking.
Look into his eye and you'll see the drugs are working.
It's the sad sad tale of the promise land.
Where you calculate your worth with a cyber hand.
Where you're notified daily that no one understands.
With modern civil rights as false as facebook friends.
They say "We've got to come together; gotta make this right!"
Fat chance of that happening unless you pass that pipe.
On this bureaucratic farm with it's produce ripe.
They cultivate the origins of your foresight.
Playing on your misery as if it were delight.
Still you are convinced you're in a fair fight....
The sky is stark, the air is cool and still
The black cat’s run, the birds unfold all day
I sit down here and with my totty pray
Ye cast o’ foolish thoughts, you raped my will.
We’ve each enraged the bureaucratic mill.
Oh frigid purse, I never meant to pay!
The sky ‘s a-spark, the air is warm and shrill
The saturnine demoted knelled their way
With this feathered pounce, my sample quill,
I cite the cheque and date it for next May.
Oh, tit for cat, the tiger’s bed ‘s astray.
Yer life is settled by a harlot’s will
The sky ‘s a shark, the air is sharper still.
Wood chew believe aye took stock...?
Upon a whim, an endeavor
arose to communicate
cumulative key whatchamacallit,
yea...nuggets o' wisdom, asper
about yours truly no reason, nor
rhyme unwinding, tooling sputtering
most vexing mystery more
baffling than any whodunnit,
asper in this ole rattle trap to whit,
which drab filler hoop fully doth newt
induce thee to vomit
while this true bore doer sits here twit
tilling thumbs, one doubting Thomas
addresses, (albeit favoring abridged titbit
alphabetized list), I attempt (collusion
gluten, GMO free), aye solicit
motley fool, not to accrue superprofit
unbiased worded atypical, bohemian
rhapsodizing non mercurial portrait
most challenged since umpteenth orbit
whiling away this last May 2019 Tuesday
around nearest star circle game
impossible mission exit
or at least until after exhausting
without courting death
senescence to delimit.
ME? ANTI THE FOLLOWING::>
aggression, alcohol, apartheid, authoritarianism,
billboard, bureaucratic, censorship, church,
cigarette, anticlericalism, anticolonialism,
commercialism, communism, conglomerate,
conventional, corporate, corruption,
counterfeiting, crime, cruelty, cult, defamation,
diarrheal, dogmatic, dumping, elitism,
establishmentarianism, fascism,
fashion, formalist, fraud, fur, guerilla, gun,
hierarchical, hijack, hunter, king, illiterate,
litter, lynching, macho, materialism, militarism,
miscegenation, monarchical, monopolist,
mosquito, nationalist, nepotism, noise, nuclear,
obesity, pesticide, plague, pollution, poverty,
racist, racketeering, rape, religion, revolutionary,
riot, royalist, sexist, shoplifting, slavery, smog,
smoker, smuggling, snob, subversive, tax,
terrorist, theft, tobacco, totalitarian, violence,
vivisectionist, welfare.
What About You?
We no longer own an empire
We no longer rule the waves
We rarely show the Dunkirk spirit
We no longer free the slaves
We are not the world's bold policeman
With the strength to control with will
The turbulent forces surround us
And this earth does not stand still
We can't stand in isolation
No matter how splendid the idea might be
We'd drown in a sea of troubles
That's not a choice to me
Our own trade area and the commonwealth
We tried all that before
In more certain times, with loyal friends
Then turned to Europe to level the score
And no, it isn't perfect
Democracy's a weak and feeble elf
Swamped by bureaucratic chatter
But is the answer to talk to oneself?
If control of immigration
and sovereignty is the aim
Then can we really trust our own politicians
To improve the rules of the game?
Too many questions are thrown their way
For any political force
To cope with needs of humanity
And tackle each problem at source
There are gaps to be plugged if we stay inside
Sensible arguments to be begun
But 60 years of peace tell me
Many heads can be better than one
The seas of the future look choppy
Unseen dangers may lurk therein
So I'm choosing a ship, not a dinghy
I'm voting for staying in
AN ELEGY FOR ENGLAND
Posturing politicians pursuing their
pompous persona,oblivious of the
obvious,contemptuous of the common
man,and common sense that therein abides.
Such bella-donnas,a deadly night-shade
in their braying bubble poisoned our
enfranchisement,those hard won rights
we and our forefathers sweated blood,
tears & long years to achieve.
Without a glance or referendum obliterated
on the altar of ego,subsumed to the
domination of the bureaucratic oligarchy
of Brussels.
O England,that once fair land,alas
now forever laid bare.
Listen to me recite this structured prose elegy on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro