Best Political Satire Poems
Dr. Seuss-style-Mister Obama Please Tax The Rich Man!
Mister Obama please tax the rich man!
The cost's are up.
The pay is down.
Tax.
TAX!
All over town.
There is tax on GAS!
There is tax on tan.
Mister Obama please tax the rich man.
There is tax on CARS.
There is tax on trees.
There is tax on our food.
No
More tax.
Please!
We can't pay.
There is tax
On LAND.
ROCKS, DIRT, SAND
There is tax.
There is tax
This I know
On tobacco, too.
But tax, tax, TAX!
The rich do, do, DO!
Mister Obama
Please tax the
Rich man!
There is tax on pills.
There is tax on HEALTH.
There is tax on insurance
Just for wealth.
Just for wealth
There is tax
On telecom.
And on low tech
And CD-ROM.
Mister Obama
Change the queue.
Tax the rich man.
Just do, do, DO!
Now start this show!
Please Mister O.!
There's even tax on electricity.
There is tax on our dog...
Ducks and hog.
There is tax on our water
And imbibements we drink.
There is tax on our underwear
...and clothes.
Middle class has floundered.
It shows!
Mister Obama!
Tax the rich man.
Mister Obama!
Please tax the
Rich man!
It's time
For
No
More
Drama!
Tax the rich man
Please...
Mister Obama.
deborah burch©
4/30/2012
Book: "Marvin K. Mooney will you please go now!" by Dr. Seuss
In times like this it’s pertinent to stroke the longest cord
for hummer is impertinent and seldom brings discord.
Each slippery politician who runs yelling, “Come on Board!”
is asking for some hummer from constituents lapboards.
He wants them on their knees paying, for taxing fills his hoard
Just a little hummer raises bundles and gets Johnny Boys accord.
And, if you think it just ain’t right to make a joke of Nancy*
then let me tell you baby, your hummers just not fancy!
Hell, you have to laugh at what they say, and their fancy stroking
for if you took them seriously, even Heimlich would be choking!
So, just remember next time your party yells "Come on Board!"
that if you do, you must expect the meaning is untoward.
*Nancy / Nancy boy - It is the opposite of being hard.
In cold weather a nancy boy would dress up in a coat,
hat, gloves and scarf and a hard guy would wear a t-shirt.
*hummer a slang word for a type of sex
** humour/hummer it's a play on words
I came upon a tribe one day
in a land not far away
where everyone gets what they need
from juices of an orange seed
Some who drank the juice had died
and so the tribe felt satisfied
that they had weeded out the weak
with the help of orange seed
Some fell asleep the whole day long
for orange juice was very strong
and never felt an ounce of pain
with not a care to cross the brain
But others would feel more awake
with every little drop they’d take
They’d run and dance and twitch and shake
and never need to take a break
Still others would get sick and green
like a flu they’d never seen
The only really certain cure
was “Never touch the juice no more”
For some, the drug would change their mood
to dumb and brutal, cruel and rude
But even those would find their use
in the tribe of orange juice
Of course, a few got very wise
had visions right before their eyes
Surely, God chose them to lead
with blessings from the orange seed
So anyone made dull and tired
were rounded up and all required
to work all day or face the noose
and never touch the orange juice
But those the seed would energize
were thereby made to supervise
the work so tedious and tough
while sipping on the orange stuff
And those for whom the seed caused harm,
were duly trained to run the farm
All day to sneeze and cough non-stop
yet trusted with the precious crop
And anyone turned cruel, it’s true
got plenty of the orange brew
you could guess what jobs they do
and who they really answer to
Not leaders who hallucinate
that everything is going great
nor all the rest who get their dose
(except the ones that need it most)
Not any man or myth or god
nor any beast of sea or sod
but just a noxious little weed
with a toxic little orange seed
There may be some as I suspect
for whom the seed has no effect
I doubt that they’re allowed to stay
they wouldn’t want to anyway
a purveyor of pretend promises
duplicitous diatribe
fountains of false forecasts
----------------------------------
April 22nd 2017
The warlock said to the witch,
Man, ain't it grand living large like Oz,
being bigly Emerald City rich
The witch crowed back,
I get paid good for giving speeches
that have no policy incantation glitch
The warlock laughed hard and long,
then chortled with maniacal glee:
I like the way you got a huge fee
for selling that "Deal Me In" dirge song
The witch returned the faint praise
with a piercing scowl and a sinister smile
You got those lemmings running thru a maze,
chasing your tale that it's all rigged anyhow
The warlock started getting miffed,
and his hair began to burn with an orange glow
He mockingly said, Endora, all the polls show
that you're a walking political gift
The witch angrily retorted: What spell did you use
to make yourself become 50 feet tall
Oh yeah, that's right. Should Humpty Dumpty lose,
it won't be much of a fall off that stupid wall
The warlock let out a sigh, and said:
You know we have to spit venom
at each other on the campaign stump
That's just how it is, and has to be
The witch let out a sigh too, and said:
Since our youthful days of wearing denim,
it's something we can't tell the voting chumps
That we're really friends, you and me
Then they both hugged each other,
and said goodbye to one another privately
The witch winked at the warlock, and cackled this:
No matter who wins,
I'm offering well wishes to you
So don't forget to send me a mean tweet
The warlock nodded back at the witch, and bellowed this:
Once the results are in,
I'll reply with well wishes too
But of course, don't you forget to delete
Catwalks
Crowd gawks
Wont style
Forced smile
Strike pose
Fake nose
Weird strut
Flat butt
Scant curves
Unnerves
Small-hipped
Lunch skipped
Stick-thin
Chagrin
Faux tan
Pecan
Plucked brow
Used plough?
Long lash
Bleached 'tache
Plump lips
Veiled nips
Waxed mound
Astound
Forebear
Despair
Sweet girls
Morph churls
Sly pout
Grim trout
Taut thighs
All lies
Make hot
Post-shot
Airbrushed
Not hushed
Mere gaud
Defraud
Model?
Twaddle!
- - - - - - - - - -
25 November 2017
For the "Footle Form - Sequenced or Stand-Alone" contest, sponsored by Brian Strand.
The puppet pranced
The strings frayed
A jackass brayed
As poppin’ hoppys
Sat and rose
In ballet dance
Of well browned nose
Applause and “clapture”
of Stockholm rapture
A mocking strut
Of failing stature
Overseers jaundiced eyes
Pundits seeking pulitz prize
Dissect the metaphoric frog
Wash it down with pints of grog
Amidst the spin of liars din
They shout pick me let’s ride again
Update quickly twitter feeds
Sating lustful twitter needs
Condense a two hour monologue
Into a twenty-five word blog
Check the facts, don’t be a chump
It’s just another “word soup” dump
John G. Lawless
©2/8/2023
a scandalous secret gnaws
at the epicenter of my being
threatening to unearth
score pillars of dirt
upon which my world is built
gilded in reverence,
vaingloriously lauded
and parlayed to ascend sacred rungs
beyond the license of minions,
the legend grows
and grows
and grows
and though I know
my storied steeple,
as all things crooked,
will surely crumble someday,
I pray that it shall stay
erect
an irreverent crown;
a reaming tower of pisa
steeped in piety,
the envy of my faithful throng
preserved
to shatter the innocence of your delicate young…
~ Pablo
A slice of Americana
love their Mar-a-Lago cream cheese pastry
immorality a lot
They crave their leadership cake ...
spin-sugar batter laced,
full of vulgarities and obscenities
in a profanity pot
Call truth to them:
this is guaranteed to give your soul gut rot
Response be a fork crooked limb:
give us another slice please, we love it a lot!
Politically incorrect gluttonous fake bakery eaters
admire a misogynist strong, dictatorial leader
Someone who demeans women,
flush their feminine dignity down the toilet
Strip their honor bare and sewage transport it
Mar-a-Lago Café got a line out the door
that adore the pungent immorality smell of this
Let Trump blow freedom a snot rag kiss,
Mr. Booga Man do autocratic Aryan insist
Sour cream de la spoiled cheese,
oh how they love it so ...
Begging the Prez Fuhrer’s pardon, yo —
they’re neo-Nazi-ing for another slice please
Getting soul gout ...
selling their empty calories
conservative principles out
Mar-a-Lago decadent immorality
served by the hateful spoonful, no doubt
Cream cheese colored bigotry
Very Berry White crooning
on the karaoke vanilla jukebox grapevine
Take one last slice before democracy closing time
But you didn’t hear it from us black raisins,
standing in the back of a separate cafeteria line
Executive orders signing spree
Quite a start for old JB
Killed off the jobs of myriad employees
Put a chokehold on the oil industry
But in the name of his pitch for unity
Lets look at JB's orders with impunity
Rejoining the 2015 Paris 'dialogue-ees'
He's eased up on our good friends, the Chinese
Plus he's helped so many radicals smile with glee
Like Ms. Omer, Ms. Tlieb, Bernie and AOC
Not to mention old pros like Schumer and Pelosi
Now on to re-engage Iran, Obama's lose-lose strategy
Canceling rents and student loans in late February
Open the borders ~ Here comes amnesty
The Congress it seems had no bathrooms.
They just held it or country was doomed.
They passed regulations
for eliminations
then out of both their chambers they zoomed.
So many words, such boring waffle
Posturing peacocks, whispering snakes,
Actions so twisted doubtful if lawful
A bunch of connivers, dithering flakes.
In the House which they rule
They pointed and frowned
Lectures unending as if back at school,
Comments unwelcomed, arguments drowned.
Then to the Senate the matter was sent
Pelosi's grandstanding the Media in tow,
Swaying opinion her only intent
Her hands animated, her face all aglow.
But Mitch was just waiting,
Lurking, knives drawn,
Biding his time skillfully baiting,
For he had the Queen, they just the Pawn.
Here comes their bleating
Lost sheep wailing foul
They accuse us of cheating
Which makes me just howl.
Boy I like winning
It's such a huge high,
I so can't stop grinning
While watching them cry.
Now the deal's done
This farce put to bed,
I'll continue to stun
As I forge way ahead
They thought they could win
By playing the part
But if acting's a sin
I've mastered that art.
Another four years
Of me and my tribe,
No matter their tears
To me they'll subscribe.
Quis? Ego
~ on the anointing of Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson
So what if it was just a drunken dare
Quis? Ego! Made at Eton long ago
I dub thee Boris of the Golden Hair
Servus, servum, servi, servo, servo
So what if afterwards they went to town
and ordered tiny sparrows stuffed inside
six rare exotic birds and chased it down
with virgins' tears in mouths so open wide
one could believe designed to fit the poor
in at such times there are no partridges
Amo! Amas! Deus! Deum! and more
Dom Perignon! To Boris! Boris is
The Chosen One! So long ago, the dare
At Eton, or more probably, elsewhere
© Gail Foster 24th July 2019
Whoa! My cabinet's 'not diverse enough!'*
This identity stuff is really tough!
Greeks, Poles, Nepalese
Turks, Finns, Congolese
You do it, Kamala ~ You're no creampuff
_________________________________
*'Biden's Cabinet not Diverse Enough'
was the top story on Chicago news
stations at 5:30 p.m., Dec. 09, 2020.
Cock got virgin spouse
they spent nice times together
she sang melodies to boyfriend
but soon she was pregnant
labor moment came with pains
Cock went to maternity ward
asking for space to labor the child
but one child it was not
One, two, three, many children
girlfriend gave birth
midwives were tired, not Cock
eyes- babies did not have
mouth- babies did not have
nose babies did not have
body- babies did not have
only round oval they were
But cock was not moved
he consoled spouse on and on
“21 days we shall be happy”
It happened; beautiful babies
came from manger
hail-storm gathered, kite licked its lips
and mongoose wagged its tail
the Cock never worried
he kept on scouting and crowing
alerting all that he was super power