Best Primaries Poems
Pictures shared over the airwaves
Palm trees giving ever so gently
To tropical breezes are captured
As our forever moment in time.
With each sunrise comes the
Rich greens, soothingly calming blues
And gently comforting whites.
A breathtaking scenery of a canvas
Of unimaginable creation.
With each setting sun comes
Enriched hues of the primaries.
Blended reds, oranges,
Yellows and blues create stunning
Mixtures of color in and about the
Horizon slowly overtaking daylight
Seemingly setting the clouds ablaze.
The ocean mimics with darker tones
As the sky slowly closes its eye upon
Us holding our hearts just a bit longer.
Daily repetition allows us to
Visualize its blessing in the
Hopes of acceptance and
Appreciation of what we have,
Are given and are given in return.
Watching the sun set in Maui
Would be an unforgettable experience
But for now it remains as an
Instant snapshot of time and place
In present time zone’s past allowing
Visions of an everlasting
Memory bring a smile to my face
And peace in my heart
All in part due to the kindness of
A dear friend and his giving soul.
This in itself has been an
Amazingly wonderful experience.
Thank you for sharing with me
This beautiful sunset in Maui.
Thank you Jerry.
5/22/19
It is said that she only paints with primary colors.
Red for the thin crimson blood that pours carelessly out of her wounded thoughts. Thoughts
she never cares to express.
Blue for the gracious sky. Open and excepting, unlike the people that surround her,
smother her rather. She day dreams of becoming lighter than air; simply vanishing away, as
if she was vapor.
Yellow for Polaris, the northern star. It always seems to lead her safely back inside her
mind, when she subconsciously drifts away in a thought bubble.
They say she forgets about her secondary hues, because the memories are just dead weight.
Green because it surrounds her, closes in around her. It is a deception. The pigment fails
to remind her to look up; up for the true escape.
Orange because it devours her contented thoughts, and replaces them with burnt images.
Images of the rebellious flames that stole his soul.
Purple because she can't fight the temptation as she stares deep into the constant
reminder. Her violet veins crave her razor blade.
When she paints, she paints in primaries, because secondary sources always lead her astray.
I don't trust Hillary Clinton because of the allegations that she's facing.
A future with her as President is something I would have a difficult time embracing.
Bernie Sanders is the Presidential candidate for me.
I've contributed to him and voted for him in the primaries.
Many years ago Sanders opposed segregation.
That was awesome and deserved celebration.
Congress passed Sanders' first piece of legislation for the National Program of Cancer Registries.
All 50 states now run registries to help cancer researchers gain important insight because of the effort of Bernie.
He was re-elected to serve eight terms as a Congressman by the people in Vermont.
Bernie Sanders has integrity and that is the kind of president that I want.
Electioneering
Somewhere in the mind of America is the simmering consciousness of legislative morality… where the politicians and rhetoricians are more than magical magicians
I see you America, with your brains spinning and your eyes rolling
Fingers wagging in blame game naming and shaming
Hypocrisy is your middle name in misled Middle America where the Middle Class is lost in the shuffle of meddling rhetoric spewed by mewed misanthropic women and men in new pants and suits and suitpants
I see you looking out to the horizon, heading for the future and looking for the past on a TV screen where extreme left and extreme right don’t battle for Middle America…
– where Americans meet in the middle and talk sense to each other –
…they battle for radical ideologies that alienate the middle and satisfy the fringe who binge on the ‘beautiful’ chaos of the moment and the month and the electioneering year
Stump speeches, primaries, media polls, emails, and end goals – what does it mean?
Was it Goethe who told us to “speak a few reasonable words” every day? Do we hear them? When America takes his advice it may be too late – It is too late – Is it too late? Too late to satiate and placate the masses of Middle America?
Electioneering in an election year; engineering for a future too near…
The Candidate
The man with his wife wave and smile at the onlookers;
Then descend the escalator in the posh New York Tower.
Melania’s appearance flares of elegance befitting a first lady,
While her husband ‘thumbs up’ acknowledges the audience.
Her consort beams charismatically, business forte in custom suit;
Into which a US flag pin is inserted on the left lapel above his heart.
Amidst the exuberant crowd and cheering supporters,
Cameras flash and roll and reporters shout questions.
The golden, combed forward and over thin hair entrepreneur,
Somewhat overweight at six feet three with calculating vision;
Approaches the podium in bold strides of proud confidence,
Into the open arms of his lovely and charming daughter Ivanka.
Who is proud to welcome her father, Donald J. Trump,
A ‘Republican’ in the likes of Lincoln, Eisenhower and Reagan;
To announce his candidacy for leadership of the GOP in the primaries,
And seek office as the next, “President of the United States of America!”
There in the lobby in 2015, the nation tunes in listening:
His candor forthright, untainted by word mincing;
To deliver a pack punched speech setting out his agenda,
For the rigorous campaign required to win the election.
***
Notes:
1) Donald J. Trump formally announced his candidacy for the Republican Presidential nomination on June 16, 2015, in the lobby of the Trump Towers, New York City, New York, U.S.A.
2) GOP: Grand Old Party (Republican Party).
3 Primaries: The ‘primaries’ are preliminary elections held prior to the general election to determine the parties candidate’s name to appear on the ballot for President of the United States of America (POTUS).
It's six days since
the Hole was dug...
First frost clings now
to newly turned earth,
to shunted sod,
to stones, to pebbles.
A grave grows colder
today than yet it's been...
Hearts grow busy, too.
Supplanting last images
with happier ones.
The heart and mind curate
a story to tell and re-tell;
to tell ourselves. To hold back
the ghosts.
~~~
It’s a year and some four months
since its been six days,
today.
The field, once buttercupped,
had been for Iris to wander.
His field, unbuttered.
She ignored what he’d eat.
A square of yellow beside a square of green.
(If only you’d seen!)
Her white, stark, above the fresh-cut ginger yellow
field.
Then, in a month of summer, her field...
greened.
She a cloud above a lawn.
He a sienna burning in the
Summer sun.
His field daisied and hers green.
The yellow square now green.
The green square now white.
She in her place.
He in his.
Trading primaries.
Today, the buttercups began to return to his green-then-white
field.
The place where his grave is.
I notice,
through tears,
that none have grown over his grave.
Ghosts, perhaps,
are flowers.
The beauty returning,
from seeds buried.
yesterday
watched men try to ride
in some graceful fashion
a flying, spinning, gyrating, horned beast
for eight seconds
probably should feel sorry
for the exploited beasts
but none of them grimaced in pain
and limped away cradling
an injured limb
however
there was this weird,
hornless, white as snow "thing"
lurched out, fell back on the chute,
reeled and tipped, almost falling,
then it bucked, finally
too late for any good
red flagged when he stumbled
out of the gate
that sorry freak of an animal
is half the rider's score
if he can't do his part
it's a re-ride (on something better)
correct for me
to pity that poor creature,
I know–but––really?
his name was Trump Train
I'm gonna go find an election prop
and bet all I can wager
his namesake
doesn't survive the primaries
Trump Train
yeah, right
more like
Trump Train Wreck
The GOP Presidents Club
Nineteen Republicans have occupied the Oval Office since 1861.
Around the table gather GOP presidents from Lincoln to Trump,
Sipping bourbon and wine and diet cola.
Reminiscing times basking in each other’s company,
With smiles of approval, proud of their service and legacies:
Discussing politics and fishing, their wives and children.
A female partisan from afar stares through the glass pane,
Wishing she could join these gentlemen in their camaraderie.
She knows endurance, charisma, and a message are needed,
To win the primaries and then, the general election:
To become the next President of the United States of America
And join the inner circle with those who have succeeded.
Bigger than life, on a grand scale, their accomplishments shine,
From the abolition of slavery to the crushing defeat of Nazism.
With troops brought back home from Asian off-shore countries.
Where too many sacrificed their lives in ideological conflicts.
From ratifying the Nuclear Non-Proliferation treaty to ending the ‘Cold War,’
And defeating terrorist regimes in the Middle East responsible for 9/11.
From digging the Panama Canal and the St. Lawrence Seaway,
To building the Alaskan pipeline in answer to OPEC’s oil embargo.
They governed while the nation expanded in statehood and territories,
Through prosperous times of laissez-faire defending the constitution;
By appointing Supreme Court Justices sworn to uphold it as written;
And recognizing Jerusalem as the capital city of the nation of Israel.
***
Notes:
Grand Old Party (GOP): GOP (Grand Old Party) is the nickname for the Republican Party originating in 1875; in reference to the party's defense of the Union.
Laissez-faire: (Fr. ‘leave alone’) essential to free market capitalism economics.
Negative Politics
By Franklin Price
2/10/2016
Negative politics are more
Since primaries have begun
To say someone is worse than you
Somehow is much more fun
It's not what you've accomplished
How you've gotten where you are
But your opponents' negatives
That have gotten them this far
Doesn't matter when it happened
Could have been a fluke of birth
As long as it is negative
It has to have some worth
Negative preferred by media
They don't know when to stop
Underhanded insinuation
Will bring their ratings to the top
Blame it on the public
Who enjoy watching the fall
Murder, drugs and politics
Anything that will appall
Playing hooky when in high school
Cheating on a college test
Not voting for a foolish bill
Bragging on the family crest
Not being raised in poverty
To have to bring themselves along
Forgetting to place their hand on chest
For the national anthem song
For the many things they may have done
For which they might repent
Having nothing to do to qualify
To be our president
Voters, think of your exposure
Evaluate all you hear and see
Don't let the negative politics
Elect the president to be
Abstract artist Burgoyne Diller
made 3d reliefs when at the tiller
Simple shapes primaries on white
thus De Style came into sight
I take comfort in being dead one day
Cold and cozy in the coffin
Snug in the grave paid in full
Sadly this is not true for me and you
Just because you can't see me
Doesn't mean I am not there
Just because I am not there
Doesn't mean you can't see me
See! All dead people can pull a lever
With some clever political maneuvers
Even if you are not inclined to be alive
Rise to the occasion of persuasion
Be reborn, re-registered as a Democrat
Vote the liberal agenda in disguise
Free will is meaningless when deceased
Leave the cemeteries for the primaries
No one ever really dies to be dead forever
It serves no useful power pleasure purpose
Why not be dead and alive in several states at once
With the snap of a political finger it is done
God gives eternal life and so do politicians
All you need is a name and place of residence
“The Cemetery” will do for ever lasting registration
To vote over and over again for the agenda
*Authors note: Sadly it is true. It is a reality that hundreds of thousands of deceased people will be voting in this upcoming and future elections. There are no laws or the will of the people or politicians to change this practice.
Reckless desire midst the lack of composure in words
I'm lost in an infinitely vernacular coloristic state of bliss
Where words are seen only in the primaries
As I see you in you in colors that don't exist
Form:
To Hell with Party People
By Franklin Price
5/5/2016
To hell with all the people
Every woman, child and man
The establishment Republicans
Have ignored us all they can
In the primaries we have voted
For the one who's not with them
Who we want for president
Has the established party on a limb
Of course they do not want him
He never was their choice
What were we voters thinking
They're supposed to be our voice
They're standing on the outside
With the saw against the trunk
Won't be long 'til they are falling down
To the ground with all their bunk
They should see the large handwriting
Is on the wall to get them out
Our votes now should have told them
If there ever was a doubt
We selected them some time ago
They promised us a lot
In the end they were quite useless
Now what they caused is what they've got
The Parties
By Franklin Price
2/23/2016
The Parties, and what they represent, are such a sight to see.
What they've done, this election time, seems very strange to me.
Allowed a presidential seeker to run as one of them
But when he starts to win, moves to rid themselves of him
The Democrat is Sanders. The Republican is Trump;
Both taking party thinking down the drain and to the dump
What these two believe, is not what the parties sought
Yet the parties rolled the dice for the notoriety they brought
Should have looked at what they wished for; looked ahead for consequence,
To win is not the only thing, what was done should make some sense
Both parties good examples of winning at all cost,
If either of these seekers win, their party will have lost
There must be something to these two; not the parties but the men
Allowing we the people to think someone cares for us again.
Polls and primaries show, that we're giving them a chance,
To get out on the dance floor, give us hope and dance the dance.
The Party bands now playing are so sadly out of tune,
Not playing for the people, let us fly them to the moon
Don't think we could be worse off, listening to a different band,
May find we like to dance again bringing joy back to this land
Marching
By Franklin Price
3/1/2016
Marching into Super Tuesday
Just after Leap Year Day
Many States are having Primaries
The voters have their say
Looks like things have gone crazy
There's no rhythm and no rhyme
The Republicans are up in arms
Don't like it's Trumping time
Didn't mind the market share
When Trump was but a joke
A political apprentice
A piggy in a poke
He came out guns a blazing
Not politically correct
A breath of fresh air speaking
With voters to connect
Not one of the establishment
Who made the traffic jam
He spoke against them everyone
He didn't give a damn
Now that he's standing on the top
The party puts him down
If they had just had half a brain
They would not have let him come to town
Don't say I'm voting for him
Not saying that I'm not
Just saying that the Elephants
Deserve all that they got