Best Politicalmen Poems


The Fools Who Stole Our Trust

How unfortified are favored mystics; 
ripened men devoid of backbones, 
ladies with bogus analogies,
others, their nuisances known.

Some put fools on pedestals,
without attention to outcome, 
but things are much different 
when dealing with intellectuals.
If recollection tallies,
them old folks always let us remember: 
“Self-praise is no recommendation.”

We do as the good book bids us: 
“Answer fools according to their follies.”
There are more charades than sound guidance. 
The throng was never us to ensue,
so we reject the king’s meat. 
Truth is, we are what we eat … and drink.

How warped is their integrity.
Let them cast the first stone; 
I’m balanced high on clouds from cannabis, 
while their brains swim in mugs of Ethanol. 
The bloody republicans suffer 
from lack of … 
lack of everything 
except delusion of grandeur, 
and the rich men have a strong-hold on America’s carotid.

My sister, college professor, asked:
“Where is the people’s guardian?”
Her expression eagerly awaits reply. 
While estimations differ, 
time (unbowed) will render true chronicles, 
but while we tarry for time’s revelation 
we yielded to trepidation; 
what nincompoops are in charge of the people’s care?

Premium Member "useless Sources, Political Fleas, Stench Isn'T Cheese"

“Useless Source”

I know some men called, big shots,
Who are filled with much bull snot.
Be careful of it’s use,
For of it there is no spruce.
A men of substance, but no real plot!

“Political Fleas”

Most all of strife’s parasitic forces,
Most always found driving their Porsches.
Poor seen of lesser degree,
Haven’t a pot to pea.
For common good vote out useless sources.


“Stench Isn’t Cheese”

Useless sources, political fleas,
Men of means, pass the bailout please.
Poor have given it their all,
As Uncle Sam called .
The stench on the hill, is not cheese.

For Shame

For Shame
Their cold bronze eyes stare out at us from busy thoroughfare
 Heroic gaze and presence met with apathetic  stare
The marble plinths now stained with piss record with misery
Of truth and Kings and Glorious dead condemned to history

Graffiti ‘s witless scribbles stains and mars our heroes stands
and thuggery runs feral in multi coloured bands
No shame no pride encumbers they our landmarks here defile
Like pigeons stains on marble heads they vent their acid bile

What now of Nelson, Churchill, Drake, of Wellington and more
How are our Heroes memories served, by smearing them with gore
What spawned this breed of British men devoid of care and shame
Who know nothing of the Greatness of these bronzed men of fame

If Hero's could for just one day return as what they were
And take in hand these untamed brats, these craven little curs
To throw them onto Flanders fields or stand at Agincourt
And know the price of honour, these giants paid and bought

And when this generation pass, as car parks gain the ground
Our Heroes plinths will be condemned to underpin the mound
On which will stand graffitied towers our apathy displayed
Whilst from the past great men look on with countenance dismayed.


Dark Our Sky

Flock of Birds darken sky
foreboding thoughts, and I ask why.
I raise my eyes, find darkness bleak,
This country ours, has grown quite weak.
I wonder when we'll make a stand,
wrest our land from silver-spoon hand.
I wonder if again truth shall reign,
silver-spoon-fed-folk feel not our pain.
Corrupt ones rule this land we loved,
into corner common folk shoved;
for oil black our young men die,
illusions fed us, for them we cry;
for loot they strive, and fight for Power,
while in fine Mansion's our leaders cower.
The rich get richer, while strive we must,
and Politician's ours make fools of us.
It's not too late to make a stand,
wrest power from corrupt one's hand;
as did founding Father's in days of old,
let's take a stand,  we must be bold;
'gainst English Tyrant Forefather's strived,
their blood, spilled, countless brave men died.
We stand not for blood revolt,
for freedom gained, we can not halt;
Bold boys' blood in Iraq is spilled,
far too many ours have been killed;
for reasons, vain, not noble 't'all,
riddle me that, you stop the fall.

America

this is our country tis of thee' were people are alike yet divided into groups.we ahve the poor 
the middle class the rich and the non existed.who is AMERICA.we are the homeless man 
under a bridge covered with newspapers.we are the prostitute on the corner turning a trick 
for a hit.we are the police man who got shot trying to arrest a murder.yet we are the murder 
who lost his mind and killed his whole family.we are the children in the schoolyard running all 
around yet we are also the bully in the hallway pushing young kids around.
we are the man on the corner slinging his drugs all day to the people who fall victom to this 
evil everyday.we are the nurses in the hospital who help the doctors save our lives yet we 
are the doctors who give a pill to a dying soul to end their suffering.we are the pimps on the 
corner who sell their woman for a price yet we are the men and women who pay for sex 
disregarding our on morals.
we are the men and woman fighting over seas dying everyday to protect this land of liberty 
home of the free.we are the people who build the bombs that take lives away yet we are the 
judges who took the oath to put them away.we are the men and women who sit on the jury 
to decide someones fate yet we are the ones who make the choice to take their freedom 
away.
who are we?we are AMERICA!

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