Best Elitist Poems
Our two party system isn’t working
Plastic figures, disaster lurking
Conservative or liberal isn’t the call
It’s the ultra rich against us all
For the people is what it’s not
All candidates have already been bought
Platforms built on promises and lies
Hear the people, ignore their cries
Wave that flag as if you’re proud
Then bow and worship the corporate crowd
You no longer serve, you’re out of place
You are an elitist group, a public disgrace
You’ve subsidized the rich with your insanity
Then crippled the growth of humanity
You’ve killed our children in endless war
The media smiles and keeps the score
We sing of amber waves of grain
You’d sell it all for personal gain
You left our budget in disarray
You’ll tax our grandchildren for it someday
No water boarding terrorists you warn
Then murder a child who is still unborn
You have no ethics, you have no shame
You have no morals, you accept no blame
Washington is a place I’m told
Where politicians are bought and sold
Where dreams and ideals are destroyed
A city where honesty is null and void
A place where hope has been dethroned
You won’t get nominated unless you’re owned
A place where once” In God we trust”
Now we look in sheer disgust
Country burning from your sparks
You replaced Uncle Sam with Karl Marx
Our nominees we cannot select
The media decides who we elect.
Politicians with great orations
Puppets to the corporations.
(A parody of the Modern Major-General's Song from "The Pirates of Penzance" by Gilbert and Sullivan.)
I am the very model of a very stable genius.
Compared to mine all others’ ...brains... are positively weeny; yes,
My grasp of science, history, and law is astronomical.
No need to read; I go by feel! (It’s highly economical.)
My sober tweets would make a truly fine encyclopedia
For fighting lies of traitors in the damn elitist media.
It’s sad how badly haters hate and treat me like a meanie; yes,
And all because I am, in fact, a very stable genius.
I see the world in black and white; hooray for monochromacy!
It shows the unnecessity of nuance and diplomacy.
No matter what I do, my fans consider me adorable;
Their loyalty to how I roll is not the least deplorable.
A win like mine (I surely could have had a clear majority!)
By common wisdom should confer a little more authority.
In short, I envy autocrats like Kim and Mussolini; yes,
I am the very model of a very stable genius.
How Dare We Ever So Boldly Speak Out
Let me write in obscure and chaotic words
stirring waters tepidly unknown
Yet my spirit refuses to admire such birds
or the massive flattery they are now shown
Why yes, some of us write from poetic hearts
with passion and not merely for fleeting praise
We that sail the seas, using understood charts
are now thought to be in an insane craze!
O' that we dareth to sparsely use archaic words
in poems as way of joining with the past
O' what folly, not wanting to be in a modern herd
or be afraid of those that so love to lambast
Cry thee, to thy Gods of confusing adulation
while we carry on in our simple ways
Content with depth, not writing for modern adoration
full of faith that truth and heart in poetry pays!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-27-2017
Note- Old poet, simple slam and quite tired of elitist criticisms
of poet novices, true hearts writing in understood words and
some that seek to exalt themselves by tearing others down..
Yes, this is a slam, but one done in a simple,reserved and more poetic style.
I heard Congress was spending money like a drunken sailor
And I thought this was disrespectful
Congress spends like they are obsessed
For the future they’re neglectful
It’s disrespectful to drunken sailors
It is totally wrong what they say
Drunken sailors never spent
Assuming their grandchildren would pay
I was once a drunken sailor
And you know what’s really funny
I always stopped spending
Whenever I ran out of money
Congress are elitist bastards
So let this story be known
When drunken sailors spent that money
They only spent their own.
Congress has no conscience
Part of the political machines
They can spell INTEGRITY
But they don’t know what it means
I’d rather be a drunken sailor
And spend only what I amass
Than to spend it like a congressman
And be a horse’s (OH!! You know what I mean)
BMC Vince Suzadail Jr USNR-Ret.
In their dreams…
Yes, please
Whisper indoctrinated dialect
Upon my harrowing song
Yes, please
Remove that scented, plastic tulip
Place it upon my oblivious palm
As if we’re in a Sadie Hawkins dance
Bribing hearts
With petal currencies
Psst, hey
I woke up only feeling like a thousand bucks.
A foreign knock-off made of recycled, rubber bolts
And ambiguity
Please
Tell me I’m priceless with borrowed, high-interest breaths
Liquidate my potent complacency
To become that symbol of an elitist humanity
Yes!
Stroke that clouded, diamond tip
With your sensual thumb
Love stamps of approval
After 6 months of quickie penetration
And co-signatures on dilapidated apartment leases
PLEASE, YES!
Take me to our creator!
Tell Him I am free!!!
I will stand here in virtual observance!
Wait, where are you going?
Come back to me!
COME BACK TO ME!
My wheelchair’s batteries are fading!
How will I stand?!
NO!
…
Sadly, they never validated their reality…
©Drake J. Eszes
The people of the state oppressed
should have a referdum by rights
God given unto them by speech
words draws the sword
To back anything worth considering
on this issue with the pros and cons
highlighted truth a must
Leaving nowhere for a reason to worry
exposing side affects
unto the genetic code nothing hidden
as this is an elitist group
Formed by bankers funding
Trying to muscle into world trade
with gmo foods and steroid filled beef
with ill regards to human fatalities
as money is the only agenda
That knows no status or good will
on the table that drives their engine forward
before health is taken into consideration
I like the thought of evolution
That a fish could outsmart god
Show him something new and bold
Like a human is something odd
I guess that’s just how people are
We think we’re all so special
7 billion people, all unique
Well I hate to be your buzz kill
But anarchist are just conformist
With a little dash of black
And an individual is just another punk
Who says rap is dead and the 60’s are back
An emo kid’s just a prep
Who balks at social adaptation
And a gothic kid is just a meat head jock
With less hand-eye coordination
So you’ll all pick: Fad or Fad
And you’ll all be some kind of elitist
Remember however, no one is truly unique
…well…except for all us artists
Clowns at the Abyss
I’m not a communist,
I’m a Democratic Socialist
Cries the independent Elitist
It’s a right to have healthcare
It’s a right to have welfare
Yet, funding for these generous proposals is no-where.
The clown behind the podium is a saint with your resources.
He proposes everyone pay their fair share, but more so by titan economic forces.
He hails we all work hard, or maybe not, assuming he is a party to the class of workhorses.
But the political party leaders are less like workhorses and more like jackasses.
For they too look down on their Animal Farm with tilted looking glasses.
Under their more-equal-than other proposals, in time all resources will be exhausted for the masses.
We have seen in the last century the million on million dead from empty promises given with a kiss.
We witnessed the suffering. Excuse me but was there something I missed?
If we cannot resist repeating our mistakes, like clowns we be, looking up from the bottom of an abyss.
Coveting is not a virtue.
You can vote your way into Socialism,
but you have to shoot your way out.
by Martin Braun
3/2/2020
THE WEAK ARE BEING
PREYED UPON.
MOST DON'T HAVE A CLUE.
GLOBALIST HAVE A GOAL.
THEIR GOAL, CONTROLLING YOU.
BIG PHARMA HAS YOUR DNA.
WHAT DO YOU THINK
THEY'LL DO?
GENETICALLY MODIFY
HUMAN BEINGS?
THAT MEANS ME AND YOU.
TECHNOLOGY IS A DANGER.
WHEN IN WICKED HANDS.
ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE CONTROLLED
TO FALL PREY TO THEIR DEMANDS.
THERE ARE THOSE, WHO BELIEVE,
FREE WILL IS NOT YOUR RIGHT.
IF THE MASSES ELEVATE
CONSCIOUSNESS.
THEY WILL LOSE THEIR FIGHT.
THEIR FIGHT TO CONTROL
THE POPULOUS.
EVERYTHING WE THINK SAY AND DO.
THEY REFUSE, TO RELINQUISH
POWER.
WHICH IS AUTHORITY OVER YOU.
TRANSHUMANISM
ISN'T SOMETHING NEW.
IT'S BEEN AROUND FOR MANY YEARS.
NANO CHIPS INSIDE YOUR HEAD?
AN ATTEMPT TO QUELL THEIR FEARS.
WHEN THEY CONTROL THEIR TECHNOLOGY,
PLANTED IN OUR HEADS.
THEY CONTROL WITH A CLICK OF A
MOUSE IF WE LIVE OR SHOULD BE DEAD.
BIG PHARMA IS NOT RESPONSIBLE
FOR THE VACCINE RELATED DEAD.
TELECOMS AND COMMUNICATIONS
NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CANCERS
OF THE HEAD.
SOME POLITICIANS ARE BOUGHT
AND PAID FOR.
SOME ELITIST LIKE TO BOAST.
INTERNATIONAL CORPORATIONS
BELIEVE THIS DESERVES A TOAST.
POPULATION CONTROL
THROUGH GENOCIDE
IS A FORM OF EXECUTION.
ELEVATED CONSCIOUSNESS
WILL LEAD TO A REVOLUTION.
I TIP MY HAT TO THE TRUCKERS.
WHO DECIDED TO MAKE A STAND.
ATTEMPTING TO SAVE OUR
FREEDOMS OUR LIVES AND OUR
LANDS.
I AM JUST A POET.
JUST WRITING WHAT I SEE.
WHEN IT COMES TO FREEDOM.
FREEDOM IS NEVER FREE.
Michael E. Harris
02112022
…the seeds of neo-Nazism are germinating
Markus Nierth, former mayor of Tröglitz, Germany 2015
Germany’s rock candy windows and cookie like shingles make seeing the oven inside impossible. At first, the obsessive compulsive cleanliness of Nuremberg’s post-WWII streets is a joy. For a child of the melting pot, born after The Big One, it’s painful to recall the grimmer aspects of the Third Reich with their proposed eugenics. Nuremberg [rebuilt] roots in an elitist past hiding behind half-timbered houses of wattle and daub. Once the seat of the Holy Roman Empire seeped in power, then, a base for Hitler’s wunderkind rallies—now a soul-blighted bloom, a minor stop on the tourist trail.
Street walking pedestrians—the silent middle, staid, detached—stroll or bike along paths, immersed in white dreams. The pogroms of terror, stolen homes, and bridges made from Jewish Cemetery stones lie beneath layers of pristine paint and plaster. The Jews victimized for centuries, and the war trials, a mere subtext to tour guide chatter.
xenophobia
tamped down like an ash banked fire
waits to rise again
on a bellows breath of rage
spray painted on railroad cars
The site of my pilgrimage, The Palace of Justice—walled in panels of ashen mahogany—retains a dour mien. Judges, jurors and those to be tried, still use this hall. After-images of skeletal camp dweller and vain glorious generals rise wraith-like from the polished surfaces, paneling, pews, and copings. Greek God’s glower. A bronze crucifix castes judgment on all who pass: God fearing, or atheist. Justice is not present; horrors are not passed and conscience is now presented to the world as a fanatic in a suicide vest.
First Published in Artificium UK 2016
Above racism, nepotism, communism, sexism,
ambition, pollution, domination, seclusion,
God reigns!
Way above segregation, self-promotion,
physical illumination, elevation,
apartheid, genocide, cyanide, religious pride
God abides!
Floating above Coptic, Catholic politics,
toxic doctrine, elitist foolishness,
putrid imaginings,
God in His Omnipotent Majesty reigns!
Liberty is not a synonym for ravenous self-determination.
For every freedom to grow
there is a reciprocal freedom from incursion.
When our individual or national purpose
reduces self-with-other mutual determination
and reiterative processes of evolving redetermination
down to autonomous libertarianism
as freedom from infringements,
then our pursuit of happiness
is no longer concomitant with our hopes for growing health,
and our pursuit of wealth-hoarding freedoms
becomes idolatrously removed from unifying roots
of equal democratic liberties of and for all,
freedom to optimize wealth of health,
happiness through mutually nurturing freedoms.
Selfishly autonomous determination,
articulating cause for self-justifying violence,
delineating causes of nationalism's self-without-other exterminations,
is not the original intent of democratic healthy purpose,
is heading toward monoculturing degeneration instead,
the opposite of multiculturing regenerate freedoms
to pursue our mutually optimizing wealth
of health.
Beware economists and politicians who speak of growing freedoms
yet remain silent about both personal and public prerequisite investments
in history's nondual development
of healthy wealth
as wealth for regenerating health
of multi-generations.
Beware of those who advocate your freedom
to self-optimize,
freed of cooperative mutual tax investments
while hiding our collective responsibilities
to cooperatively own healthy authorities
for recycling Earth's most deeply resonant integrity
of health-wealthing democratic values,
Yang's ego-centric freedom to love
Yin's eco-centric freedom from oppression,
suppression,
repression,
depression
sunk by patriarchal hubris
of anthro self-determination.
Pursuit of global liberty
is not a safe cover story,
much less a synonym,
for self with other interdependent determinations
of and for cooperatively growing wealth,
further investing in Earth's culture of integral health.
Elitist pursuits of self-determination
disguised as synonymous with complex freedom networks
thrusting anthro-authority over eco-responsibility,
has brought us to this precipice of climate pathology,
and not shared integrity
of healthy global climates.
We see the distraction clearly
Thinkers research hidden truth
Exposing false values where moral ground stands priceless
Workers are slaves chained to the elitist purse
Not paid exploited by a few fact remains
Kept under control by the bankers
Mayer Amschel Rothschild said these words
Let me issue and control a nation's money
and I care not who writes the law
Have we as a planet become so brainwashed
Government is hiding facts robbing us blind
throwing us to the streets using our tax money
to pay bonuses to these so called robbers
Destroying countries without logic
through their actions all the time lying
creating more taxes
Thinking we are ignorant uneducated
I blame the hardships our world is going through
on the bankers and their cowboys
Who can buy soldiers or countries
World leaders are now all corrupt
with a lot of secret deals in their closets
They no longer stand with the people
Watching suffering every single day
Homeless rising we are all brothers and sisters
Our democracy is being undermined
Wake up and smell the roses
Ceasear's law is being enforced
Very few people smile these days
burdened by debts manipulated with low wages
Keeping the working class down
Society becomes a place of total control
a playground for the rich creating chaos
through war games keeping our eye on their goal
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
In the pout of the lips,
The curve of a shoulder,
Fresh flesh of the young,
Beauty’s elitist domain.
Eyes sparkling and huge,
Skin free from life’s pain,
No creases or lumps,
A complexion of smooth porcelain,
Ageing the ultimate crime,
The real woman’s shame
Beauty and youth are for sale,
Go under the knife, get some more –
If Beauty is only skin deep,
Ugliness goes right down to the core,
Look 50 when you’re 70,
No need to grow up or behave,
Perfect geriatric Barbies,
Pouting dead in the grave
Distressed, I attest,
Like not blessed,
A voice in my head,
Said out of bed,
So I was led to
A quiet church,
As owls sang out,
Midnight gone tombs,
And my tears appeared,
Death beckoned long
finger nails of distraction,
And so I gazed upon an open Abbey, with folk awake that caused a shake, God botherers with likely guitars, a melange of niceness where only grief was sat. So I drifted in, hiding behind tissues
of my own life lies, and sat prepared to run, quite prepared and scared, from that worse than death, the well meaning Christian. Then as I sank into the pews, staring up from rotten shoes, my woes, my blues, I saw floating in midair, a man, with dark blooded hair, and I knew then I was crazy within my distress, not blessed. But as that thought, which came to nought, crossed my elitist demeanour, I shared everything he felt, and at that moment, beyond compare, exquisite agony my problems became less than my being, now seeing Christ. Never one to take miraculous moments without scepticism, I stood disbelieving, a rescued Thomas who had seen, unseeing, still unbelieving.
So I walked with much chagrin
towards the font my eyes had
seen, to find rational reasons,
A reflection, some explanation,
for why of all people this soul
of mine, might be saved by
one whose face I had denied
for so long, that no song could
ever write my wrongs, and there
in a Pentecostal moment, I
gained insight into the wind
that came at night, where no
delight was held for me,
an agnostic changed now for
all eternity. A man unworthy
of that name, came to faith,
kicking, screaming at how
unfair, it was to find that God
was really there, and worse,
so much worse, he knew my
name, and despite my attempts,
cared enough to save my day.
@Andrew Carnegie, Bessay Lighthouse, 28th December 2016. A true story.
If you would like to know a bit about me and my poetry please click this link below:
https://youtu.be/Ic_V7aX4xbk