Mumbling, stumbling, inaudible rambling,
The pity, the pain all but Biden now feel,
A spent man bereft, resorting to grumbling,
The fishing line out for opponents to reel.
How did we now reach this insufferable place,
Where a once wily Joe spun his fine web,
Enticing, enveloping with street gotten grace,
His mock Irish banter making folks fall in step.
The ravage of age, that indiscriminate scythe,
Lacking compassion, blind in its grasp,
Cutting down poppy's both lowly and high,
Never once stopping to ponder or ask.
So it falls to the man, with loving advice,
To know when to pen those few final chapters,
Leave it too late and it's a roll of the dice,
A legacy lost and good name in tatters.
Blind pride a sheer folly at most times in life,
Obscuring the path that shows us the way,
The one to traverse with safety not strife,
Avoiding its grasp, not falling its prey.
Country the goal before lowly ambition,
Wisdom and service the call for each day,
This is America's greatest tradition
The foundation from which no leader should sway.
Categories:
bidens, angst, integrity, pain, patriotic,
Form: Quatrain
He walks the halls with illusions
then Hunter makes a blunder,
then sniffs a neck in wonder,
which flavor ice cream to conjure,
as a ventriloquist strings him along,
lost and uncertain where he belongs.
Left or right he walks the halls,
up or down, he is lead all around.
all know he is too old and has to be retold,
With trains stopping and wars rocking,
Green is a scheme and all are flocking
To fill their pockets with gold.
Contest: the Biden’s
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Date Created 11/21/2022
Categories:
bidens, presidents day,
Form: Rhyme
I'm senile, demented, a has been, a dud,
At least that's the story, the Republican fad,
Yet little they know in their haste to throw dirt,
That they're helping my cause with their views so absurd.
Each arrow they fly with anger and speed
Is akin to a child that as yet doesn't read,
It has no direction it lands off its mark,
Its aim misaligned, a shot in the dark.
But let them continue, this path suits me fine,
For while they're distracted I follow my line
Of making great changes, passing new laws,
Pushing them through despite the known flaws.
My ace up the sleeve I've yet to pull out,
The one that will make my enemies shout,
Trump’s just my ticket to another 4 years
Flooding Republicans in a torrent of tears.
So let him continue to posture and shout,
Instilling in voters that lingering doubt,
The choice never clearer between him and me
And just like the last time I’ll win out you'll see.
Categories:
bidens, angst, appreciation, humorous, political,
Form: Quatrain