The leader lead the masses
The masses listens to the leader
The leader come out there
Campaigning and mobilising
Some Ignorant and Ignomarus
Selling their votes for nothing than peanut
Organizing touts and miscreants
Shooting, looting, cracking
The people suffer in pain
Gnashing of their teeth
While the leaders;
Sit there
Eating of the National cake
The people arise in group
Protesting and crying
Both old and young
Together they say
One Nation, One People
Green spray paint splattering is all I see on the wall
It’s not art that I see, it’s vandalism! they scream to all
They can’t or they won’t let themselves imagine what truly is presage
Beautiful and unique and of greater importance, graffiti with a message
Sprayed on the concrete walls, is the vibrant green verdant artwork
Campaigning for humanity and natures creatures,
unshrouding harsh realities covered in murk
Mural’s paint disheveled meanders along itselfs esteem
Yet reliant dearly on a lifeless tree standing dormant unseen
You see it looks sadly leafless, branches dry and its greenery gone
A passerby felt Banksy’s vision left an impression is clear, strong
"d e s t r o y i n g the f o r e s t s, d e s t r o y i n g the g r e e n e r y"
And I feel certain that her words bare truth, it’s in the scenery
Willy Brandt was the German Chancellor
Who mended fences after the Second World War
A journalist during the war who fled
To Norway and Sweden campaigning against the Nazis instead
There were many things he did to make amends
For the blood the heartache and dead in the end
On 7 December 1971 he visited the Warsaw Ghetto
Where Polish Jews were pushed together with no where else to go
A hell on earth where death was a normal show
A place where the Nazis killed and destroyed in their flow
The world looked on as he went to his knees
Praying forgiveness for these horrible deeds
Later in 1971 he was given the Nobel Peace Prize
As the world looked to cut these deeds to size
It is said the Brandt knelt for all Germans
To pray for these souls lost at their command
As the years make these memories fade
We should remember such men and hail them in our bade
And when evil is set to dwell on this earth
Hope that we have such leaders to deny them any girth.
© Paul Warren Poetry
It is an impressive break up.
The maestro conducts a symphony that
crushes eardrums with locomotive rumbling,
thumping, bumping, and dumping
of large chunks of cracking, crackling
crystalline ice pushing down river.
Hundreds of tons of ice come together –
hopefully without devastation.
It is an environment of change.
In soto voce, soft rippling rivulets,
icicles dribbling, dripping droplets,
the slushing of crusted, melting snow.
Snowshoe hares, squirrels, and wolverine
emerge into full Spring activity.
Mush dogs’ serenades ride the winds,
yipping and campaigning for dinner.
Time to secure Winter’s store of firewood,
move boats and fish wheels to higher ground.
Time to hunt and gather fresh food for stores.
Time to begin restocking fresh meats of
muskrat, beaver, duck, goose, and swan.
Time to rebuild and repair.
Break up –
one of the best times of the year.
Mr. Bernie Sanders is talking smack
C'mon! The geezer just had a heart attack!
He's 78 years old, campaigning for a socialist revolution
Proof that presidential politics doesn't obey the laws of evolution
I tried to listen to her complaining
But I was too far from time remaining
Soon the train would be waiting
With time would be debating
Upon a cork that should be campaigning
November 22, 2019
Five Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Beth Evans
You look at me with eyes big,
begging for sympathy,
campaigning for your side
like a seasoned politician.
I'm sorting memories,
like fingers through boxed photos,
noting moments where
trust has been misplaced.
When our eyes meet
there is only
stony silence as angels
fall off their pedestals.
This is how a friendship ends.
Truths To Be Self Evident
Found their truths to be self evident;
Horrible President we have been sent;
Stubborn as moron mule,
Playing with loose tool;
Never understood what he may have meant.
James Horn Political Poem Series
He is in such bad shape he has started
campaigning knowing he has to repent.
Never done before by any prior President
So this sad message to him must be sent;
Of mercy out there have you seen an agent?
.
Another Compunction
What I have is another compunction;
Make chart measuring Trump's destruction
While we started singing same old song;
In a nut house he really does belong;
Builders have to do with construction.
Now he is insulting someone else by
calling himself a builder. All that he
builds is a bunch of hot air and still
thinks he is campaigning.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Campaigning must be very laborious
For democrat Hilary Clintorious
Folks say she’ll oust Donald Trump
Enthroned when taking a dump
These nasty rumours are so darn spurious!
May God Bless America - she sure needs all the help she can get!
Thanks to Duke Beaufort for letting me use his line 'Hillary Clintorious'
1st August 2016
Poorly Behaving Politicians
By Franklin Price
3/5/2016
Poorly behaving politicians
Wouldn't want to be their mother
Their wife, their father, sister
Or especially their twin brother
Wouldn't want to show my face
Out on the street on just a whim
Not where is he was campaigning
Someone may think that I was him
Who Should Pay
By Franklin Price
2/24/2015
Who should pay for those who run? Keeps running through my mind
The answer is so very clear and this is what I find
Super Pacs should not exist; are based within the rich
Without them certain candidates could never make their pitch
Senators and Congressmen should not receive their pay
When campaigning takes them from their jobs for even just a day
They are not working for us when they are on the trail
What they should be running on, should be received within the mail
If the people don't support them, should give up and not begin
Government funded by the people means we are the ones who win
The U.S.A. was built on risk; that's how it should remain
Those who run should fund themselves with the interest that they gain
They must have believers to start the ball to roll
To convince the population to vote them at the poll
Donations should be limited so the people have their say
So big business and the very rich do not always have their way
The people are the government; at least supposed to be
The rich are not the populous. They are not you and me
“Election Day”
by: Eric L. Boddie
By plane, train, bus, car or boat
I’ll travel the Earth to win your vote
I can’t say when I’ll finish, but I know when I’ll start
From this day forward, I’ll be campaigning for your heart
If elected, I’ll serve you well to the best of my ability
I’ll deliver your heart to a state of tranquility
There will be no new taxes on your emotions and things there of
I’ll do everything within my power to erase your deficit of love
I don’t have a foreign policy, you are my only concern
Home always comes first, that’s what the other candidates must learn
And in the event of war, you are mine to defend
For your honor I will fight until the very end
Healthcare will be provided, and your economy is sure to flourish
I’ll work my fingers to the bone to ensure that you are well nourished
Your soul will be educated through love, respect and dedication
I’ll declare everyday a holiday for you to show my appreciation
So when Election Day comes, just who will you choose
I’m the best man for your heart, with me, you can’t lose
In the future
Elections will be
Every 10 years
Held on TV
A One Night Spectacular!
No pre-election campaigning
With phone or online votes
After the leader’s debates
Only those permitted
To call themselves ‘Citizens’
Can participate
Polling stations
Are a thing of the past
Mixing in public
At such a sensitive time
Will now be a crime
Those no longer Citizens
Held under tight control
By the National Guard
Candidates will present as before
Like they are fighting to get
Through that winning door
Each stating that only they care
For our country
And for us ‘all’
No studio audience will be there
The event will be filmed
Beforehand
In a secret location
Probably a bunker
Underground
The safest place around
Now that, Post-Blair
Wars and suffering
Blight our lands
There will be nothing
To choose between them
As change is no longer planned
Each part of the same
Business led conglomerate
Determined to keep control of our world
Anna Archichek
Tomorrow’s an election;
All the platforms are the same
And with many in contention,
Who knows who will gain acclaim?
All these leaflets, mailings, handshakes
Have been driving me insane.
‘Til the voting season’s over,
This campaigning is a pain.
But I know for whom I’m voting,
‘Cause she called me on the phone
And it wasn’t a recording,
Something I would not condone.
But she also left her number,
Saying I should call her back,
Rare for any politician,
Even one who’s right on track.
With so many in the race,
It must be hard to stay afloat,
But it only took a phone call
To secure my needed vote.
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