Best Leadership Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Leadership poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of leadership poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Leadership Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Leadership poems are below this new poems list.

Leadership by johnson, edward
Monorhyme On Leadership by Jain, Sanket
Through Corridors of Leadership by Roper, Eve
His Leadership by Hamilton, Patrick
From the farthest lands of leadership rules we become fools by Tate, Anna Sabrina
WE NEED STRONG LEADERSHIP by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Healthy Leadership Climates by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Leadership by grant , James
Leadership of Trust by Rogers, Cheryl
Leadership by Davies, Ivor

View all new Leadership Poems

The Best Leadership Poems

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Diamond Cut

"A Broken Demo"

In a desperate cry for help
She hires every jeweler
A cheap sheep crying, Wolf!
Using old repeating politic
utilizing lies * manipulation 
To cover the Glass Paste on her face
     Diamond-like - Stonecold and Crooked!

Her true shape -- unveiled -- predictable 
    A Thief Among The Mines
In a world where certainties are few---
Promises! Promises! 
A shallow cut - with high class
   no shape --- no spark, a dark mass
Smashing success when opportunity hits
The worst gem in disguise
The diamonds in her eyes -- gone -- expired

If you look, you will see
A twisted reflection in her evil grin
A sinister smile -- waiting to win
Her Vice - a victim --- her puppet
  blind * believing her lies
Cutting the light performance -
   -Without realizing most see past her history

We the people are more than a cubic step
Lighting the madness of her soul
Just remember, every day she sits on her pedestal
Without a twinkle --- she stares into night
Knowing nothing she stands for is right
 
Innovation - incomplete 
A man-made she-demon trying to wear white
Like the swan, dying every night
She refused to hear the trumpet play
A new moon soon will open our eyes
EXPOSED  ---  Diamond CUT
Hillary Will Not Be President 

#The Poet Destroyer


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016


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President for a Day

-Dr President Lady, please  launch the nuclear war button-

I'm packing up my girdle; I'm heading up state 
Where society thinks only men should run for president
Chill with Bill, on the side show Hill
Subsequently, he got tripped up with his hand in the biscuit jar
This poem is not about me... It's not about, Hilary 
I'm here to cheer and throw off an early vote voluntarily
I'm numbering my days with the aces 
Until the 2016 U.S. Presidential election
Only in a woman, you’ll find confidence and determination, 
Someplace out there is our leading lady in disguise
A woman who sits down and pee's with pride
A woman Like Hilary, whose place was denied in the sun

I will vote for a woman who is not afraid to lead,
Grab up her crotch, and fight for all the right reasons
Repaint the town white and her fingernails red
Blue lipstick in the breeze, a tommy gun in her possession

A million dollar diamond ring, 
A mink from all cultures of the globe
Sing hallelujah, Amen Praise the Lord! 
Pink ribbons of freedom, 
China can test all her might,
It's time to feel the empowerment of a woman's delight

There she’ll be’, sit down and enjoy,
When it’s time to hear her voice, 
The bullet will miss her beautiful mind, 
She'll Raid the Democratic Nomination moment of the blind
Her ego on the side; when it's time to reason with society
Feel the shattered glass feeling when sharks attack whitey 

Cop Out the Republican Bully
Black Ops the Democratic Liar
For women can reach, preach, and teach,
Nursing a world, collaborating with every mind
A barrier to be breached, a blessed moment to come,
If you require a true hit, vote for a woman in the Oval Office
Who said Mrs. Wonderbra can’t launch the nuclear war button 

By:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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I Am A 4


President Barack Obama
Credited for getting Osama
Now along comes Isis
"Lord help me, another crisis!"


path - 12/1


Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014


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Self Doubt

It is a fact that before I wrote True Colours,
I was stuck in a world of black and white bipolar,
encaged in my seat on a non stop rollercoaster,
eating one meal a day cooking bread in a toaster.

Do you know if from here I should.....
Nope wait, if it was you then would....
No I hesitate, before I wasn't sure I could
write so shall I carry on with doubt I'm good.

Should I continue to write?
Stick at it and improve I could?
Would I get better each night?
It's tricky to know if I'm good.

I wish for a talent but it's not apparent,
it's something I want but maybe I haven't.

I'm a thoughtful fighter
with a physical dominance,
who puts pen to paper
with a mental confidence.

The anxiety causes stress
and that makes me a messy mess too,
nonetheless I guess all I can do,
is pursue hopelessness whilst I continue
to harness this writing skill and improve,
while I remain myself and stay true,
or I could give up what do I choose?

It's amazing how the praise can make me lazy,
and all because the bar was raised. 
To think that that's where it remains is crazy,
without the application my skill decayed.

Living off past glories and falsely self assured,
hides the fact the present leaves them bored.
The reward is forgotten without consistency
and the reputation plummets into history.

You need to bounce from test to test like a ball,
contest with the very best and prove you're no fool,
then you must not allow the standards to fall,
you must allow a new hunger to be installed.

I continuously doubt what I am all about,
I'm a drought that sprouts limited amounts,
it's the same bounce of the ball in all my bouts,
my mouth shouts in repetition and I've lost count.

I continuously doubt what I'm all about,
I'm constantly worried and living in doubt,
I'm in a black hole will I ever get out,
I continuously doubt so that's what I'm about.

Why would I refuse to continue after I didn't refuse to begin. 




Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


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All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.


Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014


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Letters I Never Sent


Earth is a building
A crowded house covered with thorns 
donated by peacemakers

A building
Showered with endless tears washing sad feelings
Tears that fill holes to shape the planet with goals
It shelters those that shelter themselves
Shame poor souls
Pass them free suicide ropes
This earth is a shack overcrowded with souls hungry for 
reality’s accuracy

A construction that shield competitors for God’s recognition
This earth is a round promised lie
Circled to circulate exclusions
A bunkhouse burning from the heat of human insults
Group hugging insects 
Voice planning impacts 

It glows echoes of reality’s limping lips and confused vintage 
Glorifying gruesome goals
The third house amplifying fear as a choice 
The next door neighbour to your borrowed smiles

A building 
A freak round building 
Earth is a tornado moving bricks from one mind to others

My heart married the future with all its dimples
Holes piled up with fables
War of voices in ties and suitcases
 Killing the already dead in word visions
 Picture pictures painted in demonic paint brushes 
Bunch of hands group shaking greetings 

Earth is a building
A crowded house covered with thorns 
Donated by peacemakers
A building that let loose diseases for business   

Some letters i never sent

(c) Ray


Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2014


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Poet's Heart of Gold

Giving Thanks 

In advance, I wish to heal the mind, body, and soul
Thanking all God's creatures
Coating all my expressions from-
-Yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Conceal every worry, 
Focus on the goodness that fills my spirit with thankfulness
And, well, honored comments. 

This is a rich tribute to:
All Poetry Soup Poets, with grateful and appreciating hearts
Enjoy the time, you give each and every Poets

:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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Destiny's Clutch

The dawn spoke her name like a silken secret
carried carefree by the tradewinds of lust and larceny
imported from the traderoutes of paradise and pandemonium, 
sequined with violet venom she venerates the virtue of volition
her love is unlawful, unequalled in unrest, righteous in conquest,
tender in temptation, torrid your surrender, her beauty a will bender,

Queen of Empire Passion, warrior unknown to submission
her kingdom was not inherited, glory and throne ungifted,
the treasures, stables and territories, battles and crown all won,
rich in intellect, endowed with rare resources, affluent in original passion
bejeweled in natural beauty, she bewitches beasts and men alike,
Poets pen her preciously as Woman Total, Priests implore her pardon,
male servants pander to her anger and ardor, satisfaction she commands,
Sisterhood the symbol and soul of her mission,

I was just a man, a wanderer wading through her reign,
from the unsubdued North I came, a curious traveler with ancient name,
my tribe unfamiliar, underestimated, a Chieftain of steady pulse,
tresspassing towards her roots my aim was direct knowledge of her
woman of renown cunning and learning, woman of exotic ability,
seeking teaching and romance, though I would not be her Subject or victim,
this she knew, this she abhorred, a challenge to her dominance,

I agreed to meet her alone in the open morning of war,
in an abeyounce of gliding fire she comes riding out of the sun
regalia of black roses against red tears flying above her shoulder,
our horses begin a battle tromp, breaths heavy with moist mania
she has leopards in her eyes
poinsettias and death's palms painted on thighs,
scalps of exlovers and enemies slung on sadle
we acknowledge one another with ritual yell
I exclaim, Warrior Poetess, she screams Poet Warrior!
dismounting with mutual vigor our combat erupts
cutting my cheek with her blade's lip
kicking me in the ribs
I clinch her collared throat
and heel trip us to the ground
she snarls, I growl,
a glimpse of rescue in eachother's eyes -

J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014


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THE PARENTS' ROLE

Blame
yourself for
the things your 
children say and do; 
they got them from your 
nasty looks, gestures and unkind words...
read them some stories from the Bible!
Mothers more than fathers should be their teachers;
no vile words they should speak, good manners count:
clean and obedient upbringing pave the way for future success,
discipline and behavior makes them stand out from other naughty kids!
All parents must play an important role in their children's lives,
if they do stupid things, correct them, not rebuke them;
nicknames aren't that funny and they will resent them,
have patience, teach them all the right ways
by allowing them to make some mistake!
Isn't perfection so hard to achieve?
Does that perfect one exist?
Human Nature has flaws, 
fall and rise:
glory is
yours!

Entered in Shadow Hamilton's contest,
" Double Reverse Etheree "
Written on 9/ 20/2014


Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014


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CONQUERING THE BLIND SCALES OF PATRIARCHY

CONQUERING THE BLIND SCALES OF PATRIARCHY Crystal cold are the pupils of some men staring red to jailed porcelain dolls skin dowered for the title of chastity, your curves, your swell, they treated like machines. You can be the light midst darkness, woman yet why they see your body as gold mines, your face displays no favor from their sight. Fruits of labor you bring harvest nothing your virginal flesh dead ere blossoming suspended by sharp claws of ignorance? Aged with grief but rising from conquered fears, woman today shake white-walled home of kings to trumpet-loud the darkness in her feet... Wounded is her heart but still she will stand, her message free flying high without wings She will fight even with the threats of death balancing blind scales of patriarchy, Fears foregone, her bravery stifling pain, peace and justice, equality to all the rights for women her ever after toil! ______________________________________________________ Patriarchy - Poetry Contest Sponsor Name - Thomas Martin ~~Placed 1st~~~ Olive Eloisa Guillermo 10:41 pm, July 16, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015


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The Minions

The Minions Minions Contest Sponsor: Silent One A versifier indeed, crowding the tiny city dwellers, above the rest flying with the strongest propeller. In day he disperses many tiny pieces of torn up paper, at night he sits on his throne as an intimidating dictator. The little people do as told following the confused story teller, after all, they were treated as undesirable city dwellers. If they don't run past the finish line they get reprimanded, If only they knew following him was never recommended. Early afternoon he leads them to a walk in his park, little does he know when running they wish to disembark. The dwellers know better than to follow him in his maze, the more they learn of him, the more they feel crazed. Some stay and some go, but no matter what the decision, there is so much conflict, the town turned into a division. Separated qualifications in regards to frugal injustice, There may be more than one leader, a dedicated accomplice. Beneath the caves and in front of the chair of the monarch, he leaves trails of empty promises leading into his landmark. Finally the city dwellers learned that it's time to be righteous, and the look upon their faces was stunning and priceless. The old versifier ended up living to an old age of grey, he wondered why in the end they didn't want to obey. Date Written: February 16, 2016


Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016


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Owl's Requiem

The rising sun has set.
Night has fallen.
The plow rests,
tillage and toil finished.
The corn ear withers,
but seeds are saved.
The scrolls are opened
event recorded;
the news spread:
"The sun has set,
the old Owl has flown
into the Heavens."

Yet, the sun will rise
and peek over the horizon,
the tractor will roar,
a new crop will sprout,
Green hands will turn brown
the flag will wave,
financial accounts recorded,
hospitality offered,
and the light of brotherhood shared.

Your torch has lit fires
that flicker and flame;
The fledgling will grow
and, hopefully, become wise;
New eras and life-chapters
will begin, 
continuing the credo
as a Legacy to you:
"Learning to Do, 
Doing to Learn,
Earning to Live, 
Living to Serve."*


*National FFA Organization Motto


Copyright © Jaycee Cervenka | Year Posted 2015


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Noise

In Chibok,
An IED finds it way 
Into the mind of a savage sect
And made good use of the emptiness.

In helplessness,
Some school girls are bundled up
From their school compound; 
Taken for a noisy ride into Sambisa;
From where they will forget 
Their mothers’ voices.

On the tube,
There is a very loud lady 
Anathematising the “sharing” of blood 
In Borno.

When she is done,
The media is awash with the sound of
‘Na only you waka come?’ 

As if it is a joke 
To snatch young Nigerian girls 
From the four walls of their classroom
Into the coldness of the wilderness
To dwell amongst wild beasts.
To learn new lessons; 
Weird lessons.

In bed at night,
My wife talks of
Church bombings; 
Internally displaced persons; 
Slaughtering of citizens 
And the role of government in all of these 
And the security of our country 
And I pulled at the hairs 
From around her second mouth
To make her change the topic
And she falls for it and changes the topic.

The white bearded Mallam
On the rickety bus to Yola
Fixes his eyes on me 
Like some foreigner 
And I feel the fire 
All through the trip 
And I burn and burn and burn 
Like the victims of Nyanya motor park blast 
It feels good though to know 
What it takes to 
Be burned into countless degrees. 

But after three weeks 
I am back to normal again 
I can feel again 
My senses are back again 
Working optimally 
And I can hear again 
As the presidential pit-bull 
And the black parrot 
The one that used to be 
In the fourth estate of the realm 
Begin to met and dole out 
Slippery speeches, speeches you can’t hold 
That comes upon our ears 
To push out every substance 
From our heads 
Everything except this load of hopelessness 
This bitter bite in our mouth
This unwanted fetus
That no one would claim 

And then the hash tags;
The media craze; 
The count down 
The women in red 
And the men that joined 
The bring back our girls 
The Michelle Obama
The celebrities from across
The noise, the sweat, the blood 
The bloody thighs of those girls 
Their torn underwear 
Their wails, their sobs, their pains 
To say the least 
The echo, the deafening echo
And how we wave them all aside 
And look the other way. 
Like it did not happen at all 
Like it was just a movie 
Directed by a director 
That must be a sadist  
We sweep it under the carpet 
Like our other numerous
National issues

But I won’t write another story on betrayal 
I won’t write another poem 
On how a nation 
Could forsake her innocent children 
Instead I would write of a country 
Stealing, stealing, growing 
Growing resilient to emotion; 
Becoming many times dead
To any feeling 
Tearing its tissues to pieces 
And building new ones 
That will be senseless 
Lifeless 
Bloodless.

And the noise 
And the noise 
And the noise.


Copyright © Divine Friday Idiong | Year Posted 2016


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The Great Puppeteer

The Great Puppeteer

The CEO wore a six hundred dollar wool-silk blended suit
and he stroked his tie as he counted his loot
10 million for me
10 million for my stockholders if you please
and that leaves
7 dollars for my employees

leaning back in his leather chair
he muses
thinking of the people he uses
we’ve got to stop raising minimum wage
if we’re to go on living in this golden age

the great puppeteer
he knows he’s got a good thing going here

so with a little hocus pocus
he gets his employees to focus
on poor people who live in despair
he gets them complaining about people on welfare

it’s called divide and conquer said he
you see
the poor are so naive
they’ll never see the card I have up my sleeve
I’ll get them fighting over the scraps I leave
and they won’t even notice
I’m having a feast no one would believe!


Copyright © Wally Flint | Year Posted 2015


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If I were the President

If I were the president,
in our fatherland, no citizen will be a bastard
and mutual respect, our networking web.

If I were the president
the people will be my senate
and their satisfaction my template.

If I were the president
all sectors will be cycled with excellence
all human needs will be met with kindness.

If I were the president
cremation of human disasters fully executed
our mentality will be built in love.

If I were the president
good ideas, I’ll romance
into reality, I’ll convert.

If I were the president
life will be a comfort zone
with every compatriot a beneficiary.

If I were the president,
the simple flow of Life would be applied;
basic made basic, luxury made luxury.

If I were the president
health, mobility, literacy and justice
would be rights, not privileges.
This third world I see
would be transformed to the first, I dream of,
so God……… Make me the president that we need.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015


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TIME FOR 'ENOUGH'

Are we not tired yet?
When will we feel it is time?
Time to put our feet firmly on the ground
Call ‘enough’ boldly by its name
See - 
We stand proud under the sun’s daring heat
Unmoved by the rain’s beating-
Like sheep we follow convoys of our shepherds 
90% of all that time-
‘Voices with echoes of complains and blames is all we perceive – 
Thrown from this camp to another  
Not solutions backed by actions
And all we do is acclaim by cheers and standing ovations
To statements that represent anything but unity
Anything but development utterances 

Are we not tired yet?
When will we feel it is time?
Time to put our feet firmly on the ground
Call ‘enough’ boldly by its name 
See – 
We don’t need the opposition or the official
For disunity but not unity are the results many a times
We don’t need one keeping check on the other
Rather see one and all coming together
To not only talk the talk
And not only walk the walk
But to talk and walk the talk and walk hand in hand
For the common good

Are we not tired yet?
When will we feel it is time?
Time to put our feet firmly on the ground
Call ‘enough’ boldly by its name
See –
We don’t need taking sides
But standing side by side 
For the times we’ve done so, a bitter pill it’s been
North, south, east, west-
The centre is where we all are
Our tribes, our religions and cultures are the genes-
That give birth to us Kenya


It is time to put our feet firmly on the ground 
Call ‘enough’ boldly by its name 
Our situation can be a win-win
For our country is much bigger than our bruised egos
And deserving more than the verbal insults we like to share 
Or the physical beatings we’ve turned on each other 
Let our fight be for each other and not against each other
Our leadership ‘now’ be emulation for better regimes in future  
Leaders we need you undivided-
Fellow 'wenyenchi', we need us undivided 
For a people that are divided are a struggling lot
And we’ve been a testimony to this gospel
It is time for enough. 


Copyright © Grace Mutindi | Year Posted 2015


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Why Hillary Should Wear Flame Retardant Pantsuits

It was as wrong as it was illegal
and may yet in the courts have a sequel:
  seems like the FBI
  thinks it's OK to lie
and deceive the American people!


             July 2016




Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2016


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You are THE EYES OF THE WORLD

You, poet, poetess...
ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD!

Now that I've got your attention... let's sail to avenues where few too many 
cooks infuse attitutudes, burn britches in the kitchen.
Let us wave banners and quake fault lines of the masses, generate public 
interest bigger than entering contests, so the future wins as we arrest eye 
sights of their asses.
 
We've got something special in here; everyone sharing and caring and staring 
at screens like queens stare in the mirror. Hey, I've got an idea dear, rather 
it's more like a scattered ideal, real rednecks call "Idears, ya' hear!" 

So put down yir' sweet tea, turn off Duck Dynasty and come fly with me. 
We've got a whole generation of people sleeping through myriads of poetic 
songs. I contest we kick 'em in the ass with something true, something 
strong. 

We've got a beautiful community begging to be read. But right now, the only 
ones reading are those who should be writing instead.

We need to reach out, feed the needy, there's so much to teach. We are at 
the beginning of something huge, but I need YOU to see there's a universe to 
reach.

Look in the mirror, understand where you stand...
---------------
Note...
This stage could be HUGE!!! Poets are the last line of defense. But, here we 
are limiting our song, SARDINES IN THE TIN. 
We must think bigger, and 
generate vibrations for the whole world to see. 
Poetry is so much more than a club.

WE ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD! 

There is no communication more true than this....what we live, what we give, 
what we do--- It's up to me and you!


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014


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A Perfect Circle


Calm eyes, steady hands, I join my palms and pray,
	Where am I, who are you, Please make everything ok. 
Two feet on the ground, thru dust and dirt I travel.
	People, thoughts, Illusions, my existence to unravel.
So many forms of different speech, to each other we are one,
	Feelings of spiritual goodness, under the same bright sun.
Cultural tools we carry, souls dance forward in time,
	Connecting thru our goodness, detours evils relentless sublime.
Be careful what you give or better what you do,
	A portrayal of one’s existence, a test signifying you.



Date: 09-22-2016


Copyright © Chelcie Darling | Year Posted 2016


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POLITICS

                             POLITICS


Propriety demands - we do not speak
Of others, either strong – or weak
Lest in the foray of the quest
Insiders, fall from grace, of safety’s nest
Take residence alongside taloned beast
Intent on making you the winner’s feast
Cloned puppets denying there are strings
Surrendering their truth to cell phone rings.


John G. Lawless
8/26/2014
for Judy Konos
How’s Your Acrostic? contest


Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014


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Acedia

Idle hands scorching a trail
Through the Capitol
Closed mouths and hearts turn daggers
Biting our own tongues

And the streets are red rivers 
Through which they drive
golden chariots over the backs
of their forefathers

Words falter, slave and master
plebeian and patrician
And whips silence in return
They dream of a revolt
While breaking their necks to bow

We do protest hotly
In secret chambers
Tear down the throne!
Hang the tyrants!

A bloody revolution!
Let's  then schedule it for the 
King's convenience

Hear she comes, most lovely
She'd slit our throats 
With pleasure
O Gods save our Queen!
She'll pluck this acedia 
from our cold dead hands!

Slaughter the innocent
Distract us with wars!
O Brutus save us from 
our apathy!

What will it take
for our walls to break?
O give us liberty
or at least grain at
our own price!

Give us our tribunes!
There can be no
Republic until
the people speak
themselves


-------------
Inspired by my research for a story. This deals specifically with the establishment of the 
Roman Republic, but plenty of this still rings true to me. Acedia = apathy.


Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014


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Election Misdirection

a purveyor of pretend promises duplicitous diatribe fountains of false forecasts ---------------------------------- April 22nd 2017


Copyright © John Michaels | Year Posted 2017


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Facebook Conversation

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Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018


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Boot Licks

slithering snakes run silent

sleeping snakes lay deadly

awakened venom ready

while reigning as prone giants



breathe upright fools gather tolls

exhale hate and hued discord

bow in ranks to thy dark lord

ascending dust; marching trolls



march riotous foolery

spew venomous rhetoric

slither fork-tongued heretics

confess inflamed schoolery



o’ taste and see politics

halls unjust, wall-smears dark read

blood-soaked tiles seep pus instead

walking snakes hiss for boot-licks



Copyright © Sona Wilae | Year Posted 2017


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The Snowman with a Political Agenda

		

		I love bright outside Christmas sights,
                especially colorful lights
		on evergreen trees
		that sway in the breeze
		and snowmen on clear, wintry nights.

		I just witnessed something quite strange,		
		a snowman so wrongly arranged.
		He stood on his head.
		I guffawed and said, 
		“Your butt’s in the air. Quite a change!”

		Then to my surprise, Snowman spoke:
		"You think my existence a joke?
		I’m planning to run
		for office—such fun!”
		I thought I was having a stroke.

		He boasted, “I’ve got a good chance
		of doing that victory dance.
		My stance draws a crowd;
		I’m bold, loud, and proud.
		I’m getting much more than a glance!

		My butt you see up in the air,
		in plain view and totally bare,
		is where my thoughts form,
		though that’s not the norm.
		My head’s not why folks stop and stare!”
		   
		This weird snowman should make the news,
		but I heard no journalists’ views
		on what I’d just seen,
		but what I did glean
		was proof that some folks have the blues.

		They’re saying some leaders don’t lead
		consistently. So many plead
		for those who won’t show
		their butts, those who know
		each vow must be sealed with a deed.


Date Written: December 23, 2017

Contest Title: Upside Down World

Sponsor:  Eve Roper


Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2017