Best Rallies Poems


Premium Member Sophie

Sophie Scholl was raised a Christian in a Lutheran family
Born in the town of Forchtenberg in south west Germany
For standing defiant against evil with her young life she'd pay
In a country that was in deep turmoil and had lost its way.

She was a young teenager in nineteen thirty three
When a new leader offering hope, emerged in Germany
Adolf Hitler was an Austrian, who came to power
And for many it was the start of their darkest hour.

To unite the German people the Nazis held rallies
In some of the larger towns and all the big cities
But something dark and sinister was taking place
The evil Nazis were plotting to create a master race.

All the youth were encouraged to join an organisation
Hitler youth they were known all over the nation
Sophie and her brother together, with some of their friends
Turned their backs on the movement and vowed to make amends.

Word was getting around about death camps and persecution
Together they decided to form, a small non violent organisation
Known as the 'White Rose' who urged the people to renounce Hitler
They handed out leaflets telling the truth, about the Nazis slaughter.

One day at Munich University where Sophie studied as a student
She was seen distributing leaflets on what  Nazi ideology meant
A janitor intervened and confronted her, and wouldn't let her go
She was arrested and then handed over to the notorious Gestapo.

They interrogated her to find out, who her accomplices were
But she wouldn't give them their names, as they tortured her
They charged her with high treason and sentenced her to death
To die by the guillotine and the date of execution was set.

They executed twenty one year old Sophie for making a stand
And they had accused her of being a traitor, to the fatherland
They eventually captured the others, five of them in all
And they too walked to their deaths standing proud and tall.

It’s people like Sophie who want to make the world a better place
And not supporting some twisted ideology like a master race
The Nazis were eventually defeated and their leaders tried
But not before Sophie and millions of other innocents had died.




Written 15th May 2021.

Premium Member Time Machine

Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place
Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face
To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white
To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night
Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee
Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day
Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween
Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean
Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer
Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer
That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance
Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance
Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree
Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see
Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent
Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent
Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car
Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar
Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat
Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet
Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear
Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year
News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts
Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts
Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day
Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May
Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool
Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school
Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul
Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.

Clocks Ticking To Politicking

(Read later stanzas for more of the humour part ; parody of politics)

I Can't think well of a democracy
if nepotism and false promises
are part and parcel of its idiosyncrasy
A system of governance can't appeal to me
if it forever stinks of the 'stinking' rich plutocracy.

The media the ravening wolves many times their puppets,
together they howl for our  divided attention
With wily words to win the masses of marionnettes
The nation's welfare merely their scheme in pretension.

Wonder why political power has to be the monopoly
of ambitious, vainglorious affluent power moguls.
Why can't they simply choose leaders
from any sincere poor yet wise and humble individuals?

The promises of a better world by 'em' politicians
are simply the oratory tricks of slick tacticians.

Demagogues come in all shapes and sizes
They come in 'perfect' future leader disguises
Pulling you and me to polling booths, luring us the dumbstruck voters
To amass as much power and wealth as possible in their limited quotas.

No wonder poor presidents are turned or burned
in the form of their rude and crude effigy cartoons
Comic sarcastic politics I say, since a caricature
it purposely lampoons!

Then the demonstrations, remonstrations
but they only invite riots and tear bomb gas
So if yah can keep your rallies peaceful
maybe you won't be such an ass.

And if yah do go ahead ranting, panting, slogun chanting
No seeds of discord nor weeds of hate be sowing, planting
for a showdown with fleshy arms, no metal arms can still be prancing, advancing
With sloguns not shotguns be ye protesting and demanding.

Thus I really wonder if politicos politicking
really do make the world tick.
Or do they simply in many places cause
timebombs to parallel the clock's tick?

(ok cast d ballot n vote 4 me as funny presidential candidate
 of no-man's land ;


Premium Member Monsters of the Sea

A contracted seafarer...concerning no servile rank, 
kept e'er involved watch...away from menial daily tasks top deck,
while steadfast wary of...the diligent taskmaster's whip.

A dawn swift gust...brushes the ship from a rocky pillar, 
duly rallies from rest...aids calamitous bellows from crow's nest,
witnessed by crew...rose an angel disguised with devil horns.

Seawater laps feverishly...against ship's wooden hull, 
as panic over breed minds...once sturdy legs go feebly about,
cascading thoughts grips privately...every man for himself.

Another abrupt action...frees a churning sea expounds,
and an opening hole...devouring anything within its midst,
as desperation consumes...a ship has long met its doom.

A lone selfless soul of limited else...moved past the lost,
and hastily clutched a burdened javelin...and hoist it upwards,
with his petitioned combined strength...released the deadly blow.

Her dying scream...was drowned out by restored happy voices,
and a wealth of well-wishes and praises...honoring accolades,
as lone eyes of a humble sort...gaze a siphoning pass.

The Spirits of the Parrots

SPIRITS OF THE PARROTS

Two parrots, one red, one blue,
share one large, rotund zoo cage,
just the two of them.
There are plenty of perches,
yet they sit on the same one,
close together,
looking over a feast 
of fruit and seeds to share.
They make no noise,
as if in silent prayer
before their meal.

Where are those parrots today?
Where is the cage?
Can we see their spirits
flying past the zoo, over the city,
up and down the state, across the country?

When they fly through clouds
and rest on phone wires,
can they see rallies on street corners,
counter-rallies opposite,
each group waiting for the other
to offend them, just so they can lash out
with swear words and name-calling,
refusing to even look for common ground?

No, most likely, they stay in heaven,
flying close together,
exploring the new Jerusalem,
eating fruit from the tree of life,
the red one and the blue one.

-Jennifer Fenn

An Infant's Bitter Cry

What did you see in me uncle?
How could you even hold me tight?
I was born just a few months ago
My tender body still didn't grow.

I slept by the side of my mom
You have shown her the smell of chloroform
You took me away from my lovely home
You made sure that we are all alone

I opened my eyes to the harshness of your touch
I realised that I'm no longer safe and sound
I cried in pain until your palm closed my mouth
I shook with fear and my eyes searched for mom 

You didn't just squeeze my skin but crushed the puny bones beneath it
You didn't just kiss my lips but caused my tender tongue to bleed
Your fingers ran across every corner of my shivering little body
Your pricky moustache irked every bit of my trembling nudity. 

I tried hard to shout but my voice melted in the fearsome silence of the lonely night
My eyes searched for my mom's arms but I couldn't realise that they were beyond reach
My breath choked to survive under your violent paws
My life helplessly moaned beneath your wild claws

Who are you to pluck this mom's little flower?
Who are you to burn down a father's happy hour?
Who gave you the right to vandalize my unborn future?
Who advised you rack my bones to showcase your musculature? 

Goodbye world, I'm leaving.
Your retribution on him should serve others, a learning
Don't just do a few candle rallies and forget me
For, within no time, another tender stem falls out from a green family tree.


Premium Member Law and Order

So, it starts years ago, with protests in the streets
People allowed to lay on the road, block traffic
Then, start fires, attack police, as they’re told to stand down!
Criminals with 18+ offenses free to roam as they please
Thousands others were released from prisons by Obama
Illegal immigrants were allowed to surge into our country
All while violating laws, without consequence!

Now, we have a new president accused of obstruction
While Congresswoman Pelosi, obstructs congress
Withholding articles of impeachment, after the vote!
Hollywood actors and actresses are threatening our president
Even offering to accept money to assassinate him, take his head!
All of this without consequence!

We have the group ANTIFA attacking supporters at rallies
Assaulting people, spitting in their face, without consequence
Then, we have sanctuary cities protecting illegal immigrants
They don’t even allow ICE to do their job accordingly!
Instead, they release them onto our streets to be free,
With prior records of rape and murder!


Now, we have all these problems with Iran happening
But if you look back in time, Obama sent 1.7 billion dollars
He sent the money on pallets to Iran, funneled to terrorists!
All of this was without consequence, no accountability!
This is only touching upon part of what is happening 
These are things happening in the United States!
We are losing law and order and without it we will fall!

Heidi Sands

1/7/20

Premium Member The Face of America

   The face of America not long ago
     an immigrant hard at work
   has undergone a dramatic change
     immigrants have gone berserk

   From sea to shining sea
     from California to New York
   they make fists and scream at rallies
     voicing opinions incredibly warped  

   Anti-American as they can be
     protected by our own laws
   it seems to me ~
     out to destroy our great country

Land of the Free

Land of the free???



Give me your tired, your poor
Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shores,
Send those, the homeless,
Tempest-toss to me,
I lift my lamp besides the golden door
Enter welcome to liberty
Come enjoy this land
A nation built by the sweat and blood of immigrates
A chance for freedom
A chance for the American dream
We come along a way from that statement
From embracing arms to protest rallies
Hate spells from the top down
Laws passed to shut down the boarders
If the dream is to live America
Like those who came many years ago
Why is it now
That we do no longer want 
The tired, the poor, the homeless
The children who suffer the most
Scared of the mob formed
Chatting slogans on hate
It is the norm to make fun of this situation 
Who will do the work Americans will not do?
They are stealing jobs from Americans 
God’s presence is sprinkled over the founding fathers
From their beliefs 
To our constitution
Where has the love gone?
Why do we now not practice what god taught us
Love thy neighbor as you would love thy self
Are we now a loveless nation?
Are we now a Godless nation?
Here in America you must speak English first
If that is the case 
Then why do I not hear us speaking the language of Native American 
Go back where you come from
We do not want you here
Send back lady liberty
We seemed to have forgot her message
We have Forgot the nation that embraced the lost.

Premium Member Mein Kampf My Struggle

…the seeds of neo-Nazism are germinating  
Markus Nierth, former mayor of Tröglitz, Germany 2015

Germany’s rock candy windows and cookie like shingles make seeing the oven inside impossible. At first, the obsessive compulsive cleanliness of Nuremberg’s post-WWII streets is a joy. For a child of the melting pot, born after The Big One, it’s painful to recall the grimmer aspects of the Third Reich with their proposed eugenics. Nuremberg [rebuilt] roots in an elitist past hiding behind half-timbered houses of wattle and daub. Once the seat of the Holy Roman Empire seeped in power, then, a base for Hitler’s wunderkind rallies—now a soul-blighted bloom, a minor stop on the tourist trail.

Street walking pedestrians—the silent middle, staid, detached—stroll or bike along paths, immersed in white dreams. The pogroms of terror, stolen homes, and bridges made from Jewish Cemetery stones lie beneath layers of pristine paint and plaster. The Jews victimized for centuries, and the war trials, a mere subtext to tour guide chatter. 

xenophobia 
tamped down like an ash banked fire 
waits to rise again 
on a bellows breath of rage
spray painted on railroad cars

The site of my pilgrimage, The Palace of Justice—walled in panels of ashen mahogany—retains a dour mien. Judges, jurors and those to be tried, still use this hall. After-images of skeletal camp dweller and vain glorious generals rise wraith-like from the polished surfaces, paneling, pews, and copings. Greek God’s glower. A bronze crucifix castes judgment on all who pass: God fearing, or atheist. Justice is not present; horrors are not passed and conscience is now presented to the world as a fanatic in a suicide vest.
 

First Published in Artificium UK 2016

Premium Member Pitcher Deals

Pitcher deals.
Center snaps. 
Forward volleys.
Captain kneels.
Wing traps.
Road team rallies.
Runner steals.
Driver laps.
Bookies watch at O'Malleys.
Coach jaws.
Goalie paws.
Mothers pray.
Midfielder moans.
Winners eat macaroons.
Fathers look less gray.

Refs tally the time left
'Til the moon rises.
Fans leave, bereft,
Searching for further surprises.

Progress and Preservation

Exhaust fumes and flower blooms
Acrid smells, gentler scents
& pungent decay
Hot molten gold flows out of a clear 
blue sky
Cars rumble down streets made into 
alleys through the trees that tower
over them like Eiffel
Or Freedom
With the rain age old mud mixes 
into the seams of recently laid 
concrete
My city is a cyborg 
With kudzu wrapped telephone wires 
weaving away from its heart like 
veins through body
Carrying life-lines to its extremities
Steel office buildings rise from the 
ground alongside the trees that we 
plant on the sides of downtown streets
Because we don't want to forget 
what the land was like before we 
came
And our quarries carved down mountains
and our progress intruded on mother nature
We don't want to forget what things were like
Before the South started to 
become "new" and king Cotton lost 
his right to rule to the steel mills, quarries and commercialization and 
became a peasant
Before industrialization changed the landscape
And Birmingham earned the nickname "The Magic City"
Civil Rights demonstrators marched
some of the same streets we walk
And the  16th Street Baptist Church 
has an exhibit that reminds us that 
sometimes progress comes with a high
price
right across from the Civil Rights Institute
Part of Martin's dream came true in some places
Black and white children play 
together now
But you can still see the Confederate 
Flag hanging from a pole at the side 
of the interstate as you go down 
towards Florida
The Klan still holds rallies 
and buzzards can still be seen eating 
road kill in the middle of the suburbs
This is still the south
What some call the country
....and minders of the past are 
never that far away.....

Premium Member When We Wore Blue and Gold

It was September of 1960 and we were growing
Elvis sang "It's Now or Never" anticipation showing
New kids in town for our Freshman year
Our last at St. Jerome's, adulthood near.
We hung out at the Coffee Cup on Berwick Street
Five Point Diner and Palma were sweet
We never dreamed of growing old
Back when we wore blue and gold.
Sophomore year brought us to Saint Ann 
Not old enough yet to be called a man
Hitch hike to the My Place and Bowling Alley
Travelled around the Panther Valley
Weekends looking for a brand new thrill
Going to the Coffee Shop in Summit Hill
On the Juke box "Runaround Sue" and "Cathy's Clown"
If "Rumble" came on we'd quickly leave town
Building memories as each day would unfold
Back when we wore blue and gold.
62 saw the Four Seasons singing "Sherry"
Our next two years would be with Saint Mary
Pep rallies in the court yard, who could forget
Sneak down to Henry's for a cigarette
Laughing, joking, we were only sixteen
Drop another nickel in the pinball machine
Flip a coin for a pool game, choose who will rack
Fan buses for away games, have a smoke in the back
Lou Christie sang "Two Faces Have I "
"The End of The World " made Skeeter cry
It was 63 and our time was near
We were starting our senior year
Unsure of what our future would hold
Back when we wore blue and gold
November came and some of us cried
The Friday President Kennedy died
Before the storm there is always a calm
Trouble brewing in Vietnam
In 64, invaded by another land
The Beatles wanted to hold our hand
The school would be one next year we were told
Back when we wore blue and gold
June arrived, graduation day
A time to rejoice, a time to pray
To change the world, thoughts so bold
Back when we wore blue and gold.

I Am An African Farmer

I wear a toga bigger than the life I live
I know who I am so I scream aloud, clear
My name means unlimited abundance
Cultivating the earth is a blessed calling
Transcending generations even unborn 
For man, food must be, for life must be
I know who I am, a facilitator typified 

Learning in life has made man conquer forever 
My contemporaries smile, they chose to learn 
Like they sow, the more they keep reaping

My shepherds are led by their noses and stray
My portion varies wildly from existing branding
I reap with the pests and weeds and back ache
Years of manual tilling has tilted my pose
The sun has melted my swagger, resistance I am 
I have never seen tractors only hoes behold 
Monies for farms fund party rallies, orgies
Agricultural subsidies strictly for city men
No knowledge of chemicals and plant food

The human factor beats them all 
The little harvest must be shared to bear 
Streams of humans surviving on tiny bits
To share for us is tomorrow lived and beyond 
While the bourgeoisie wallow during filthy wealth  
These calloused hands they are bent to tear

Premium Member Promises

In opposition they criticize all that is wrong
and all that is good, according to their agenda.
They put clogs in wheels, aided by defiant unions
and often bringing the country to a standstill
with senseless strikes and organized protests.
Mud is thrown at government and individuals;
much of it sticks; the end justifies the means.
During the run-up to elections they use the media 
to their advantage; the message drummed over
and over during house visits and heated mass rallies 
rousing the rabble with heartfelt oratory.
They promise transparency and accountability;
fair sharing of wealth, help to the homeless and 
to the needy; curbing favours to friends of friends 
by resorting to the ideal concept of meritocracy; 
lowering taxes and bills and introducing new social 
benefits that would put all on an equal footing.
Most of all they harp on the eradication of corruption.
They hold roadmaps to solve all the country’s woes. 
They promise heaven on earth; they promise Utopia.
Glittering manifesto is presented with much fanfare.

The gullible, switchers and uneducated are brainwashed.
As expected, election produces the desired results and 
the party in opposition gets in power...on promises!
Promises that cannot be kept. The devil wants his due. 
He grins, pointing to the small writing on the manifesto...
The majority had failed to notice it. It reads...SUCKERS. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Contest: I Can’t Breathe
Sponsor: Cyndi MacMillan 
Placing: 1st

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace