Best Capitol Poems
The differences betwen us
are less than is commonly imagined
We all need food, family, and love
Meeting people from differnet cultures
has emphasized this to me
The true capitol of the world
is in the depths of the heart
Dancers on an earthly stage
We gyrate to weather, politics, and culture
In the end we share more than we don't share
By letting our eyes and souls meet
we can find common ground
War is something that can be overcome
We should build bridges, not bombs
Teach love, not war
Let the old and the young join hands
Feel the earth beneath our feet
Realize that in the end
We are all stewards of this blue orb
The White House is on a great lot
It's Washington's drive to it spot
But guards only train
That terror's to contain
So mentally ill there get shot
Author's note: The new treatment for postpartum depression is now a firing squad.
Birds on Capitol Hill
July 2010
Shoshana Vegh
Birds on Capitol Hill
Range from arid and dry grass
Sirens security forces
Fourth of July tomorrow
And converge for birthday
Moving from north to south wind
East to west
Do not hear the earthquake
Do not cry bitterly
Right in own way
Just want to fly.
The democrat’s in quite a fight -
an umbrella could not end plight.
The needles are fine,
so rabies won’t shine.
It’s capital when a fox serves a bite.
On April 5th Representative Ami Bera was bitten by a fox
on the way to the Capital for votes.
4/9/2022
Gleaming Capitol.
Alabaster stones shining bright.
Peoples history and hope.
Dark place of power.
Filled up with greed, lust and lies,
Destroyers of liberty.
Christopher Bunton
Sedoka contest.
A muddle of voices
all crying foul
Cacophony's in now
budding diplomats howl
Scowls on their faces
deceit in their hearts
tourists buy scorecards
to tell them apart
We watched in horror, fury, shock
As everything we knew
Was ravaged right before our eyes
And all was left askew.
Sedition! Insurrection! Coup!
Those words were tossed about
As Trump-incited chaos
Left democracy in doubt.
To see the U.S. Capitol
Invaded, stormed, defiled,
With law enforcement lacking,
Finally got some people riled.
But what did Trump supporters think
Would happen? After all,
He’d stood before his crowds and, oh,
They’d heard his clarion call.
Though Congress finished up the count,
The rule of law reclaimed,
I wonder if, at last, some members
Finally felt ashamed.
LOVE ON CAPITOL HILL
Love can make you goofey in the mornin,
make you babble like a fool, And bark at the moon.
Love can make you silly in the afternoon,
and make your congressman act like a loony tune!
Love can make you sappy! doin things you'd never do.
Love can make you zappy!
And make you act like you was borned in a zoo.
© I am RON WILSON and i approve of this pome... Puem... Potery ...Pottery ...whatever
Violence on the United States Capitol
January 6, 2021
History has taken a turn without silence.
Morality disappeared showing violence.
How do we explain to our children the evidence
That our leader stirred the bad from the bad?
They all need to be accountable and sentenced
For the consequence.
1/10/201212
I'm Sitting Here on Capitol Hill
By Franklin Price
7/15/2015
I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill,
this job was heaven sent.
Have passed no laws in quite awhile,
think I'll run for president
Haven't done my job it's way too tough,
at the public's beck and call
They don't know what they're asking,
we on the hill must do it all
I can no longer stand it,
should move on, be higher still,
move my family to the White House,
can get the money think I will.
Wait, I better rethink this!
Maybe I thought too recklessly.
If I'm sitting in the White House,
they will blame this all on me.
If there was just one thing I could change
I would request an odd divinity to ferment in an Elixir
Which never intoxicate, nor take the state beyond rationality
No one is an aftermath of coping, coping in understanding , way upstream.
As fallen shadows on a puddle of rainwater have nowhere to move or shift
Only a hazy vibrations tell them a lot, as eloquence are often that, just that
I can take a book that belongs to you, even without passing the faith test
And outside, the lonely balcony and a streak of a moonlit story, is still viable
I will wait for you there, your warmth, shirt and your a bit hardened posture these all,
I can still try to smell hair oil that slowly calms down a bird nest, in a placid way
And you can still surmise, after all these are turned down, and burned down,
“I was thinking about her, as, she could be a better one!”
Am I a transcribed poem? I often think these days.
Am I a sound, like an abacus on a motif, that knew today, gathering yesterday or before
As sunlight, dimmed prayer bids, these all are reaching, till none or nothing are there, in further need of anything
To debate, derail or to juxtapose even, in any specific way
I can rub your wrinkled skin, and wrinkle free attire, too.
You and I, and the nemo in an axis, of a world, as a dipthong, somewhere
The inevitable, frequency and the outlier, befitting for a fitting remnants!
(This dark poem was written on the anniversary and in memory of the events of January 6, 2021.)
Gallows at the Capitol
By Mark D. Stucky
“Hang Mike Pence”
was the chilling chant
the day democracy died
on a gallows at the Capitol,
when citizens began rejecting
election outcomes they didn’t like,
and, to get their way, turned to
threats, harassment, and violence.
Denials of elections, ethics, and common sense
lead us ever further down a path toward ruin.
Democracy’s rough corpse is already rotting
as we now slouch toward another election.
(See also my poems "The 2023rd Psalm," "Bathing with Bathsheba," and "The Art of the Devilish Deal.")
(The image is a collage of two images by Andy Feliciotti and Johannes Blenke on Unsplash.com.)
Proud boys were observed breaking glass
Confirming that Trump has no class
As seen on TV
Like the GOP
Trump just doesn't give a rat sass!
The dome rises above D.C.
tonight,
shining in its free liberty reign,
Columns of ivory,
lift the justice towards the
heavens,
above the country,
into the flag,
And as the city flickers in a silver
mist,
a steady glow can be seen from the
hill,
a nation so bright in its glory,
so strong in its pride,
We the people,
America,
sleep in her life.
Made a cuppa coffee this morning
Forgot about it
I think I ate breakfast
Can’t remember what
I combed my hair
Singular
Musta brushed my teeth
They’re back in my mouth
I wear a shirt that reads
“IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN”
Socks that disagree with each other
Shirts that read like a virtual menu
Shoes that tie themselves
The best place to look for my glasses
Is in the lost and found pile
I shave when my beard
Gets to that itchy stage
Bathe when the dog moves
To the far end of the couch
I laugh a lot
Not always sure why
Or for what reason
I have children
And phones
That are smarter than I am
Yet nowhere near as wise
When my doctors ask
“any questions”
I reply
“yeah, what’s the capital of South Dakota”
They are generally not amused
I don’t think they know….