Best Chancellor Poems
Chancellor Adolf Hitler
Quite dumb with girls when he was littler--
But in Nazi's prime, came sultry Eva
Messed-up like Fuhrer, she became his diva!
Educate Me with Humor--Leader Clerihew
Contest of Andrea Dietrich 1/25/2019
......................
Eva Braun was Hitler's lovely mistress for years.
Though both had eccentric, bizarre characteristics,
Eva's loyalty to Adolf till their last days made him
decide to marry her in a civil wedding.
Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal
except in his alternate universe of oneness
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon
while war looms close by this feather prides himself
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
Sleight of hand reflections move
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come
Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me
only me, me only me, me only me!
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam Mcdaid
Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal
except in his alternate universe of oneness
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon
while war looms close by this feathers pride himself
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
Sleight of hand reflections move
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come
Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me
only me, me only me, me only me!
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
With each small spec of dew
that lays upon each leaf,
each morning; it brings such
freshness to the world.
Naani:
Is one of India's most popular Telugu poetry forms. It means an expression of one and all. It consists of 4 lines, and a total syllable count of 20-25. The poem is not bounded by a particular subject. This was first introduced by one of the renown Telugu poets - Dr. N. Gopi who is presently working as vice-chancellor to Telugu University, Andhra Pradesh.
3rd July, 2012 (c)
THE COACH
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Went to an alumni meeting last week
Looking for solace, the outlook was bleak
We lost a game we should have won
A total disaster to all not just some
Cries of anguish torrents of pain
“How the hell did we lose that game”
Three close calls in the recent past
Defeat was looming, the die had been cast
We were favorite to trample that team
What followed next was strictly obscene
No confidence in the coach, zero trust
A new powerful resurgence is a must
“Fire the coach, we need a new spark”
Call the chancellor a search to embark
There’ll be plenty of coaches to interview
At the end of the season there will be a slew
Most will have been fired that’s for sure
Same kind of let down we’ve had to endure
Appoint a committee to find a coaching ace
Got to expunge this humiliating disgrace
While we’re at it the assistants they must go
They haven’t inspired the team as far as I know
Need to raise cash something we’re lacking
Buy out his contract and send him packing
A new coach will cost us a hefty sum
A sales job needed to convince the alum
All must partake in any new proposal
Resources will be placed at our disposal
A few claimed it was to soon to act
Hissed and booed told not to come back
The coach (2)
All that remained were anxiously waiting
Are there any coaches, we’ve been baiting
A new coach will surely demand success
All in favor pledge support in this quest
Days later the finals were slated
Consensus was, we won’t be elated
To our amazement, it’s hard to explain
Out team executed a perfect game
I went to an alumni meeting last night
Everyone was joyful in utter delight
Many were boasting and sipping champagne
Alas we were conference champions again
We need to make sure we continue to cruise
Complete confidence in the coach and his crew
Upgraded facilities, haven’t you heard
Call the chancellor pass on the good word
Our coach is a winner to be sure
Esteem and respect for him to endure
The backers are ecstatic bursting with praise
Throw in some perks add in a raise
Extend his contract for a many a year
Act fast our rivals might get his ear
Those remarks from last week , bid them adieu
They were made by an uninformed few
Limerick crochetés: Portrait of a Dead Brit Nazi, Lord of the Lollypoppians
Part One
Once an uppity man from Poland
Wed a stumpy wench from High Golan
Result: mangy mongrel
Was no way you could tell
His front from his toady tail-end
In Broughton raised as Mancunian
For his stature was Lilliputian
Sent up to hot Eton
To become smooth Briton
Of hoi polloi he nursed low opinion
There at the clubby institution
Three thorough-breds of noble distinction
Chased him in quadrangle
Stuck dildos up sockle
In his hock-filled mouth sans elocution
Lacking shining past in his pedigree
Made him mug up facts in history
Shot up into Oxford
Father grandeur afford
Marks and shillings through frilly lingérie
At New College what spoke most was money
Free drinks all around and clothes so horney
So things ran with his ilk
Reeking of mothers’ milk
Ere going down he rode high and pretty
Once down he was not down and out either
With free hand in till of his step-mother
In book trade old mongrel
The art of the scoundrel
He made much of his blithering litter
Dreamed day and night of the House of Lords
To rub knees with the Chancellor of Boards
Stuffed Labour coffers cash
Stood for Commons: whiplash
Injury by hoi polloi on records
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
ONOMATOPOEIA
~~~~~~~~~~~
onomatopoeia
ring, boom, hiss, bang, crash, wallop!
sounds one can hear
words speaking for themselves
~~
onomatopoeia
roar, meow, hiss, pop, tap!
from quill to paper, silenced.
heard only in ones mind
~~~~~~~~
Naani - One of India's most popular Telugu poetry. Naani means an expression of one and all. It consists of 4 lines, the total lines consists of . The poem is subject specific. Generally it depends upon human relations and current statements. The only restriction's are the 20 to 25 syllables, 4 lines, and of course it subject specific. This poetry was introduced by one of the renowned Telugu poets Dr. N.Gopi, presently working as vice-chancellor to Telugu University, Andhra Pradesh et al I can find no dates on its origin. I am assuming its ancient? As is I can't find any means by which I can contact admin, unless you no different. As far as I can make out, to do so I need to go premium? Help! Also if any one knows the history of naani poetry, please be forth coming. The purpose of all the above is draw Admins attention to the form, and maybe add it to the extensive list of new and ancient poetry forms that already exists on 'Poetry Soup'.
Lord Denis Healey was an intellectual Labour MP,
Who represented Leeds in the Commons for 40 years,
From 1952 until 1992,
When he could at last objectify as a Lord his real tears.
He was a Beach Master hero in World War Two,
But his bravery continued in his post-war politics,
When he advised other politicians on how Britain could,
Live within her means to become again productive, good.
He was then Secretary of State for Defence,
Between 1964 and 1970,
When the Cold War so frightened and intimidated the many,
Who just wanted their war victory respected in reverence.
When he became the Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1976,
He demanded an emergency loan from the IMF,
To save the pound from decline and most certain collapse,
When Britain was fast approaching that Winter of Discontent, lapse.
However, after that Labour did not see power until 1997,
But Healey became the Deputy Labour leader in 1980;
And for most of the 80s he was Shadow Foreign Secretary,
And was slow at Falkland Island assault and battery.
He was normally on the right of the Labour party,
A patriot who championed social justice,
Who guided us through some very dangerous times,
Where the country’s growing pains were his signs.
He’s the last surviving member of the cabinet,
Of Harold Willson’s government in 1964,
But when he graduated from Balliol Oxford in Greats,
Him and the Communist Party were pally mates.
He had a love of classical music,
But was enthused and besotted by poetry;
Shakespeare and Wordsworth were his philosophers,
And Blake and Butler Yeats he always did glorify.
Denis Healey died aged 98 at his home in Surrey on the 3rd of October 2015
I'm kind of taken by Jeremy Corbyn, the man and his success,
And believe that for the leadership role he may be able to dress;
I think what’s going unsaid is that he’s kind of in a way funny,
Minutely, not gloomy like Brown or Miliband, but kind of somewhat sunny.
He’s a breath of fresh air on the economy and education,
‘Cos he’ll tax the rich more and increase the tax of corporation,
He’ll set up a National Education Service for any and for all,
And restrict free schools so that upon liberality they will call.
Tax evasion will be dealt with, so Amazon and Starbucks can cower,
And housing rents will be controlled, to let the hard-worker flower;
Immigration will not be dismissed, and welfare reform will be opposed,
And Trident will not be renewed, as political solutions will be supposed.
The renationalisation of energy giants will stop high electricity bills,
And Europe will centre in British politics and system safety drills;
The NHS will not be privatised but with social care it will be warm,
And women’s workplace rights will be proffered in a massive, great big swarm.
He'll have a Minister for the Arts, to trophy art, music, literature and poetry,
He opposed the Iraq war, and will work with Russia at diplomacy;
He’ll fight for socialism and its beliefs, but in a modern way, considered,
And he’ll represent normal people, because he comes from Salford.
However, I don't like John MacDonnell, the Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer,
Who should be more for the centrist view and a conscientious people reader;
His right-hand man should be someone who gives the opinion of the party’s right,
To offset Labour Leader Mr Corbyn and his radical, militant, socialistic fight.
But all the best to you, Jeremy, I hope things go your way,
And you stabilise the country with the left-wing policies of the day;
Although your shadow cabinet should be more representative in its views,
I hope that the economy rewards you for your heartfelt unionist dues.
You can read some of Jeremy Corbyn's poetry at http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/Jeremy_Corbyn/11844716/Published-at-last-the-poems-of-Jeremy-Corbyn.html
The fighting Temeraire
I fought at Trafalgar yet this is my reward
dragged to the scrap yard a dagger in my heart
The red ensign flew proudly by reputation was high
My crew and my captain spoke my name with pride.
Turned into scrap just for the cash
My history reputation just thrown in the trash
a nations national treasure turned into tins
just so a chancellor can balance his bills.
Now history as faded and so as my my fame
It's turners picture in the gilded frame
that keeps my exploits alive, till this day
I'm the fighting Temaraire the famous painting !
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fighting_Temeraire the painting !
05052016 comp entry
MASKED BALL – THE SURPRISE
The final sweet phrase has sounded
Our dancers await by twos
All still in mask, impatient
To hear their sovereign’s news
Queen Adaelade, Ball Chancellor
Has watched the evening through
Her task, by long tradition bound
Select the reigning two
Her selection goes a wandering
But, at last, in regal voice
She points the Lady Persephony
And her lordly patrician choice
The pair, to wild acclaim, unmask
Selection, (all along) contrivance knows
Will be the Lady Persephony
And her *Cavalier of the Rose
*I couldn’t resist the last line’s reference to Richard Strauss’ Opera
Der Rosenkavalier.
Bollockticians ******** Time
You can't believe a word they say
The çants receive a world of pay
They daily rob bread from me to top up public purse
Pray God slay the queen could a republic be much worse
You fools it seems buy their flying carpets
Who pulls the strings on these lying muppets
They thronely lord it over me in my loan home
The only barren is societies broken window
The bailed bankers bewildering bonus bonanza
The failed F-Wankers fiddling fungus fundraiser
The off shore accuntancy
Makes more redundancy
I say don't forget Mr Chancellor
I pay your rent I own that chandelier
Who thinks the disabled need a funding cut
Treats them like a table at Bullingdon Boys Club!!
Then he reaches for his Ivorian axe
Guess who benefts from your slash
When he leeches on poor man's tax
Yet the rich get more to stash.
Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring.
If by chance,
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission;
I demand from you chancellor;
A swift insanity plea, submission.
For this troubled soul is plagued,
By vast displays of wicked ways.
None lost.
Courtesy of meticulous examination.
Love lost.
Diligence pending Investigation.
Key Evidence, perpetually documented
In Sin's ominous catalog.
Rebuke my Judge!
For multitudes of shortcomings,
He failed to ascertain.
Moreover, present was He,
When Satan drafted me.
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain"
JS Lambert
V1
Now listen all you people
It’s another budget day
The chancellor of the Exchequer
Is going to have his say
Chorus
They tax us here
They tax us there
Were taxed on everything
This treasury budget
Is not a nugget
And it’s gonna
Cause a stink
V2
Standing in front of number ten
Holding up his case
Whilst paparazzi flash away
With a smile upon his face
They tax us here
They tax us there
Were taxed on everything
This treasury budget
Is not a nugget
And it’s gonna
Cause a stink
Bridge
This governments borrowed money
Cause it spends above its means
They say please don’t worry
But it’s shatters people’s dreams
V3
Inside the houses of parliament
They listen with dismay
To all the money wasted
And deficit given away
They tax us here
They tax us there
Were taxed on everything
This treasury budget
Is not a nugget
And it’s gonna
Cause a stink
V4
Over taxed on consumer goods
Cigarettes gone up again
Three pence on a pint of beer
He’s done it once again
Copyright © 19th March 2014
K.C.Leake
All Rights Reserved
In 2010 just before the General Election, David Cameron promised,
To eradicate the deficit by 2015 and manoeuvre it out of the red,
But now in 2015 George Osbourne the Chancellor of the Exchequer said,
He’d take until 2020 to make it black and put the whole thing to bed.
The tories are rather behind at “finishing the job”, as a stalwart Brit would,
This was the character alluded to who would nicely fit the role,
Of managing the deficit well, efficiently and with maximum speed,
Such that austerity can be justified when we only spending what we need.
The newspapers are saying that it will take another 10 years,
To clear the deficit such that austerity is not on the table, a possibility;
Labour and the SNP advocate a longer time for financial health,
Which would be much better for economic growth and future wealth.