Best Parliamentary Poems
I don't know what you're really thinking off me.
If this is real thinking I'm not thinking properly.
Everything inside me fights and tries to stop these warnings in mind, was fine and now they got me locked up in my divided mind of conflict.
In my declining life I'm rock bottom and forgetting my problems.
They want me better, I hear it commonly suggested though I'm exhausted of my efforts I've waisted on attempts.
Spent far too much energy on it and never getting ahead, watching thunder.
Reluctantly under thumbs of this system where parliamentary wickedness judges every movement.
Abusing their power, final hour they're losing vital signs, leave them clueless so there's room for improvement.
Some remain loyal and accept their horse ****, yet I predict our government will get a quick kick to the ribs for their fibs.
Lies and cheap disguises so why am I obliged to fight beside this nation.
When the devastation came rampaging like a hurricane over their stage coach show, I'll crack the cases open then stroll like a Roman soldier no tolgien and when I expose these vocals unspoken, no joke it'll explode then we'll watch the commotion.
Then to them we're out focus when we brew up mad potions stewed like hocus pocus and I'm in total involvement like when I'm holding a microphone flowing a rhyme with words that may upset and turn ya perpetrator.
My brain splits like a glacier when my pen hits the paper and scripts murder and hurtful things in rhyme violence to beat riots, I'm defining mad science.
Temperatures off the gauge it raised up to the max, the glass cracked open, I'm breaking the stats.
Crazy devil dance out weighs your heavy stance, the landscape shakes when my mental state slams.
Nastiest override of your entire mind. I'm the supplier of rhymes the sets ya head on fire and ignites you on the inside.
Time to end denial and since I was a child I swore never to break a vow and saw mama pass down thoughts like the day after my father died she cry laughter....
Harvard, Princeton or Yale?
I'll take some courses by mail
Engineering or Mathematics?
I'm majoring in Acrobatics
Piano, Violin, Flute or Clarinet?
I'll play my music on the Internet
Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton or Dickens?
Give me a J.K. Rowling tale of Wiccans
Pheasant under Glass with Caviar?
Slice of pizza and fries with that, sir
Sparkling wine, Liqueur or Pink Champagne?
Make mine tapwater -- plain
Mansion or Penthouse Condominium?
A dreary shack, the bare minimum
Representative or Parliamentary Democracy?
Socialist Republic, where everything's given to me
Life offers you choices, let there be no doubt
The worst thing you can do is take the easy way out
Written by Gail DeBole
Phillip Buster could fluster a room -
Full of men whose anger ballooned
When came his turn to speak,
Congress snored for a week,
All dreaming he'd peter out soon.
Note: Illustrated in Coloring within the Limericks available on Amazon.com and other retail websites.
Gail's note: Filibuster - Type of parliamentary procedure.
Right of the individual to extend debate allowing the lone
member to delay or prevent a vote on a proposal. -Wikipedia
Clowns bickering over bullying allegations
Imagine the hyprocracy
expressed inside these certain voices
claiming they are defending the indefensible
When they stand totally ignorant
in favour of killing babies
Truth has a backbone to every word
within that which takes away
the value from human life
Water rains the philosophies of mums each morning plying jeer can with tough
faces because the taps have been experiencing months of loneliness in it
gush.
The waking of sleepless mums gluing their hope to the taps gush, merely
believe this city certain to save the mums from slavery of their own. Owed
the boredom drenching in strings water to the songs of birds close the
window to the windmill.
The nights become longer to the size of river Nile wishing the night to
swallow the day, their pace can be heard in parliamentary to the voice of
the kettles rumbling in the morning
Their sweat determines the pain they have been through to ignorant of the
truth the pipes are like dead snakes on the roads biting us with fear.
It gushes no water that too melancholy on milky tooth of incompetent man
hovering his wings to the nation and attribution regretted.
She colors her behavior to spit the crowded of women around the well to
the crisscross that wills the nation to notion active only by the title of
competency if imagined.
The cascade of the city to scent of village with tantamount hope boiling no
interest to glue in city that with no sign of before, but backwardness
rumble to the dumbbell in the morning to mothers cry.
The dampness of their clothes to the scent of cockroaches well being, the
fake manifesto entertains poverty and glue the water collectors to
colloquial gossip in the morning hoping to ram the messed up and the big
mistake ever nation has cried that circulated in short saga.
Dumb in parliament to the palatable junks of protruding stomach shining
gown to the shake of lizard to the fall of Julius Cesar by the sword
And by the oath of power to the pointless of being a President to the
resident overdue of coalition of poverty is fence of blunders on the frying
plate
by then the imagination of mums fetching the tinkling of water enshrined
them each morning to months of lamentation
They rallied you to paint their faces with hope of impregnated oath to
breath of thief with heavy sombre spell diction's where we must defend to
the arrival of Jesus by jumbling solutions to fix broken ideas to the
weight night.
2 Terms Of Political Office
A political leader of a country successfully managed to extend his term of office...
Brings up the question of the wisdom of the previous curb imposed to 2 terms in office....
Bolehland has on record the incredible long tenure of 22 years by Premier Dr Mahathir...
And plans are afoot to restrict succeeding premiers to only 2 terms is service....
2 term may be too short for long term overall development.....
Besides the problem from the surplus of such pensioners ...
And atypical of Bolehland mentality, ad hoc programs will proliferate...
A merry go round of contractors, hangers on for part of the economic pie....
Hohoho...
Too frequent a changing of the guard....
Brings on too many a zealous new broom to sweep the room clean....
Hohoho....
On the other hand, a misguided head at the top....
Even a single term can have dire consequences....
Democratically there should be preventive measures...
To checkmate the slide into mediocrity...
Dr M helmed Bolehland for 22years....
Despite the many shortcomings, those were exemplary years....
Of prosperity, stability and high paced development....
Though with the benefit of hindsight...
Bolehland was tethering towards a gaping abyss...
Created by many policies and practices that have outgrown their noble objectives..
What was once a visionary and innovative initiative to correct a shortcoming....
Becomes a yoke of suffering and abuse once it's objectives are achieved....
Question of the day is when to review and to improve an initiative....
Before misrepresentations and abuses set in to abuse the system....
Then the need for change has to happen, a step back in order to move forwards 2 steps...
The Europeans were pioneers in coming up with parliamentary checks and balances...
But history too bears witness to the many atrocities and disasters they created...
The world wars, the religious crusades, the bullying politics of apartheid and slavery...
All faulted and wreaked by the overwhelming influence of supremacy of race and religion ...
What Bolehland is undergoing, it is nothing new nor revolutionary...
The only positive, we could be on the path to maturity...
All the existing abuses and clamour for better governance....
Could just be manifestations of growing pains of a young democracy...
Dislikes
Blow dislikes in the aired balloon
Soar high and high in firm alone
Space even will not greet you fool
Why are you behind in the childhood of noon?
Where were you born no one known?
All die in time faith is fun
Dawn awakes to see you’re gone
Evening awaits you to see in tomb.
Crawling hopes have been shone
Don’t find place even in moor to bloom
Shrink yourself in the hell soon
World has united to ditch you gloom.
Villain you are align your self
Mind your business in the black hole pace
Light years cannot glow you the way
Here will be happy when you are away.
No one escape are tuned to you
Land is barren wind is foiled
Water cannot irrigate, your brain is dead
Depth is low wherever you go.
Sometimes you cry in the moor, we hear
Your ghost is there to scare for dear
Hearts are barren to cultivate you here
Vanish from earth throttling the air.
Have arisen mind to shred your bile
This is the message to elope your vile
You are barred to appear in aeroplane air
Parliamentary house is now most dear.
Hotel and rail way are far from your access
In towns and cities you can’t famish
Come appear let us know your gist and dearth
Humanities have heart to understand your fear.
Civilisation wants to fructify all
We secure the earth for the laughter sure
Baptize yourself to save from fall
Why are you short with bomb and gall?
( Completely fiction not solid to hurt anyone. )
With such precious thing as freedom
heaven granted us at once in millennium
or if your people lucky one
in half of this time schedule.
So why on earth our governs,
president and parliamentary body,
so disposed to quench all
our attributes and bases of freedom,
Look out to world from your luxury caverns!
Stop selling our country in market!
Again these men comes to mind,
Paid to say yes and nay,
Lame duck,
Canker, ***** rapscallion minds
Incorrigible,
Political impostors detached from the humdrum of street cries
Maggots in honor
Damp squib temples of legislators
Dishonorable honorable,
Rotund circles of rascals
Fellows fit for the gallows
Clamping on huge figures,
While masses groan in penury and misery
These men,
Myopic spendthrift
Guilty of our nation’s scraggy state
Yet so confused to order the path of the clueless dummy
Who imposed tax on all, by military orders
Ignoring the pleas, and rightful protesters
Turned tyrannical with marching murderer on Lagos Street
Their gains is from the pain of myriads of unemployed
The beggars,
The homeless,
Hungering and the dying,
Yet, these,
Profligate band of quipster
Queasy brains,
Feigning parliamentary proceedings,
Though,
Benighted of procedural skills,
Bootleg insane scoundrels
Go to now, you dunce,
Senators are no thief
Legislators are honorable men
Your reputation!
Mud eaten,
Ask the people, they know so well,
Your inscriptions are carved on the web
The insignia of corrupt men
You pride faded,
Honor, a high price you must pay to regain,
Not with money
You banter and wade it off,
Glory in these,
Your temporal pride,
Your mansions outlive you,
Your coffins called cars
Your billions in Zurich,
Your fears to face the people
And the mockery of Truth
When your time is over,
Time shall mock your reigns of folly,
With sicknesses of nameless brand,
Retrospectively,
Sufferers will call to mind, the avoidable denials,
Their pains, their poverty in your pride against your master- THE PEOPLE,
Welcome to your misery
as the masses will watch you die
rascal of usurps seats of honor, don’t call them fools.
Many a flame, brightens the sky
Such events to re-enact
A plot in vain that would underlie
A pre-determined pact
Brought up as a Catholic child
Beliefs that would not wane
The distinct view of Protestants
Reflecting royal reign
The disapproving treatment then
Catholic Priests and all
Of secret church services
Hidden holes – no fall
A venture to the land of Spain
Discover and to fight
A brave and learned soldier
Gunpowder to alight
Plans devised, against the king
Thomas Winter’s plot
Fawkes informed and now assigned
Such tales were not forgot
A secret meet within the Inn
Robert Catesby lead
A gang adjoined as one to swear
Our plans will go ahead
A parliamentary opening
Imminently placed
For barrels rolled into the night
Hidden without trace
A letter sent to Monteagle
Reward for such a warn
Uncovered act, to light a fuse
The truth of which be sworn
Hidden in the cellar below
O’ Guy to now arrest
A plotters display of guilty heads
The ending of their quest
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
I pause from painting a canvass of opinion, brush strokes colouring a solid red
across the blank faces that warily observe. A compass points to the right (a dead
end) yet with no direction, escorting a stained brain in reverse: an unnatural place to start.
This taste is always freshest in the mouths of the hungry, which are forced to part
from an honest working voice to focus solely on the next meal. Who will stand
up to write THIS IS WRONG on Parliamentary walls to clear blinkered eyes? A hand
can paint and sculpture, but will also make a fist.
A better world is open if we walk on through the mist.
Prime Minister’s Question Time
That Wednesday morning farce
That starts with the sycophants
Verbally kissing the Premier’s ****,
Followed by the Opposition Leader
Who begs and implores
Answers to his questions
Which the Prime Minister ignores,.
To indulge in propaganda
And very personal attack
When the Opposition Leader
Vey quickly bites back.
Those present in the House
All bay, yell and scream like fools
In way that would bring exclusion
From most decent primary schools.
Democracy in action
There for all to see
The Parliamentary equivalent
Of the The Goon Show on TV
Prime Minister’s Question Time
A misnomer indeed
Behaviour more fitting those
High on skunk, roofies or weed.
A most unedifying spectacle
But thats just how it looks
When any nation is led by
Hypocrites, spivs and crooks.
The honourable resignation
A thing of the long long past
As those in power cling on
Until the very very last.
And loyalty is rewarded,
When the opportunity affords,
By the lifetime sinecure of
A seat in the House of Lords.
We treat politicians with deference
In a manner that confounds
Forgetting they work for us
And not the other way around.
Happy Birthday to the Queen!
A royal celebration
Will be the order of the day
Within the British nation.
From fireworks and gun salutes
To Parliamentary praise,
Her subjects will commemorate
With glorious displays.
As for the Queen, she’ll take a walk
Then spend the day at home
Paying just as much attention
To the hoopla as this poem.
The turbulence of a tube in a rusted bowl is akin to a striped sky. Acronyms are quite quick to jump over a lake at dawn. And districts discussed dominatrix in an iron ball. Cavitation clapping in a vest that is pink. And five hundred lemons laid out bare. Interesting how a slug does have no flippers in a watery drift. And a biscuit melting in a cup. Bits. Misused. Miscellaneous page of itemised devolution. Require no more. Thirst is a barrel. And a barrel in a chest. Young. Factions form filled. Gone gone gone. In a honey comb drip. Good. Exemplorary examples. Hahahaha beer bread. Hahahaha fortification fortified fries with forks swinging. *** parliamentary z
India is a country of diversities
People are accustomed to adversities
Inhabited by a pluralistic population
That still survives as a nation
The landscape contains mountains and rivers
The high peaks of Himalayas give climbers shivers
Rivers flow past forests with rich fauna and flora
The majestic tiger makes visitors awed by its aura
Spoken languages differ from one state to another
But the soil is considered sacred, like a mother
Customs and habits are different, too
Depending on where one was born and grew
Religious festivals are held all round the year
Devotees flock to temples from far and near
Priests commemorate numerous deities
Practice rituals ordained by religious societies
Clothes are worn with various hues and styles
People exchange greetings with hugs and smiles
At the congregation of different religious orders
There are many guests from across the borders
The form of government is parliamentary democracy
Numerous political parties ensure there is no autocracy
Months before elections, the political weather is hot
Battle of abuses, lies begin, each giving the best shot
Elections are held periodically to fill the seats
Winning party forms the government, celebrates with treats
Before election, sobriety dies as each party gives a clarion call
The verbal fight continues often ending in a brawl
This country was inhabited by great sages in the past
Who preached tolerance among all religions and caste
Common people love the prevalence of peace everywhere
Greedy politicians plant discord to enhance their share
End