Long Mccain Poems

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Requerimiento

(The Spanish conquerors of the
Americas read out their legal
document, the "Requerimiento",
to the Indians.  Failure to comply
meant the Spanish were free to
do what they wanted.)

Conquistadors in Vera Cruz 
found themselves a radical ruse. 
If pillaging was muy, muy lento, 
they just whipped out Requerimiento. 

Composed in fifteen seventeen, 
this document was ultra-mean. 
It won more scraps than Robert E. Lee, 
was deadlier than DDT. 

Suppose you met an Aztec mob 
that wasn't happy to be robbed, 
and far from handing on a platter 
its gold and silver, wives and daughters, 
was minded to contest the matter, 

Requerimiento got unrolled. 
In legal Latin, gooks were told 
with lots of quid and quod and quaem, 
exactly what was sought of them. 

The royal writ was read aloud 
to help the puzzled Aztec crowd. 
So none may later look askance, 
the dinks got every sporting chance. 

All the Aztecs had to do 
(clause forty-nine of section two) 
was pay the pope an entry fee, 
accept infallibility, 

and send some gold to line his coffers. 
Who could baulk at such an offer? 
Clause fifty-eight - the Spanish king 
must get his cut of Aztec bling. 

They're hazy over "king" and "Spain"? 
We'll have long decades to explain. 
They don't respond? It simply means 
we blow them all to smithereens. 

The finer points can wait till later. 
Non-compliance means they're traitors. 
We've read the thing, so now we're free 
of all responsibility 

for theft or damage, flood or fire, 
and if perchance it should transpire 
that they don't dig what's going down, 
why, take it up with Cross and Crown. 

Thank God it's not like that today. 
Before we step into the fray, 
we tell them they're a "conflict zone", 
and send in laser-guided drones. 

If they accept their crude religion 
is now a dead and pointless pigeon, 
and take divorce and teenage moms, 
then we won't use our cluster bombs. 

There's other stuff here, on our list - 
like Coca-Cola, lobbyists, 
The Dukes of Hazzard, John McCain, 
obesity and acid rain ... 

at least we don't do like before, 
and sell them, as we wade ashore 
to occupy their ancient land, 
some junk they'll never understand.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Senator Mccain and Prayer For America

Dear Lord, look upon us graciously I humbly plea. We need you desperately in this home of the brave. Lead us from our cave of disunity in this land of the free. Contrary to what some may have thought, there are some heroes who sometimes get caught, and often don't live to tell of the battles they've fought.                                                                                         
We must not forget the many lessons they have taught.                                                                                            

Your son, The Christ, comes to mind who was captured,                                                                                   
unjustly accused, and tried without mercy. He was condemned                                                                     and nailed to a cruel cross of pain and shame by men full of                                                                               
hypocrisies and drunk with their own corruption and power.                                                                          

Heroes should be defined by what they did rather than by                                                                                              
what was done to them, whether they fell in combat or                                                                                                  lived to be tortured by their captors in a prison camp.                                                                                        
Perhaps the death of Senator McCain can draw us together.                                                                                  Perhaps it's time we all pause and allow our hearts to be revamped.                                                                 
Perhaps it's time we still ourselves and be healed of our self-inflicted torture.                                              

Dear Lord.  Bring us to the realization that only you can restore and bring our nation together.  "Unless the LORD builds the house, They labor in vain who build it; Unless the LORD guards the city, The watchman keeps awake in vain. Psalm 127
08282018PoSoup
Form: Couplet

Senate To Win It

10 29 08

Senator Obama said it's time for a change
While Senator McCain lashes out about his age
Obama's cool-calm and collected
He never let's his opponent see him break a sweat
Athough McCain says that he's still a babe and not ripe enough yet
Obama has proven over and again that he way pass getting his feet wet
McCain is disturbed when his buttons are pushed out of whack
Obama shows no remorse toward his actions 
When he brings up the issues at hand and what they lack
He wears well the intelligence, experience and education of his well thought out plan
Senator Obama believes in his heart of hearts that God is the true leader of our land
But no matter what McCain tries to reek havoc on 
His feed back on issues are always so weak and bland
McCain has shown us what he’s made of when he agreed with President Bush, OH MAN!
He shows his emotions outwardly, he expresses himself in bodily ways
He’s a republican leader that went along with our present leader, by continuing having our 
innocent troops fight in someone else’s war
How misguided and divided, how much more disappointment is in store
From the same nominee, the man that wants to introduce more taxes to the senate floor
Mr. Obama’s stripes while debating has never ever changed, and the majority of cities cast 
their nominations on him, they bet
He’s cool as a cucumber he has never let McCain get to him at least not on T.V. yet
Mr. McCain is part of the old school rule that harps on wisdom before age
But did he and all the others ever contemplate on Dr. King’s dream, 
the same vision that  President Elect Barrack Hussein Obama envisions today
He’s not enraged, it’s not a radical issue or a self proclaimed fact
It’s about the best man for the job to run our country that’s failing 
Because of the know how that all others lacked
Both of our candidates have different views about fixing all the mess in the 
White House Wing
But free at last-free at last is what all of the heaters should sing.
© Ida Dianne  Create an image from this poem.

This August 26th 2018 Rendition Part I

This August 26th , 2018 rendition 
regarding previous literary endeavor
Wick End Up Date, Snippet Sans... 
...The Deadly Scourge   
...One Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder

(Never abating infiltrating 
writing material e'en superceding 
the death of John McCain, where
Munster monster rears gnashing 

undermining marriage with ambivalence.
Anorexia nervosa absent bulimia 
nadir of onset schizoid behavior,
which agonizingly slow suicide 
self starvation maelstrom within 

psyche of self prepubescent lad
(particularly devastating  
immediate family members)
emaciation pitted existential 

ghastly revulsion unseen,
wuthering heights wrung death 
knell annihilating fragile entity 
christened Matthew Scott Harris 

obvious preemtory imprimatur 
yieldeing covalent bond to die starkly 
horrified kith and kin helpless  
Zorro slashed signature profound 

perilous depressive psychological gouge. 
Now at about two plus score years 
attaining centenarian rank perfect 20/20 
hindsight supreme advantage swift under 

currents alluded drowning, when das 
scribe juiced started  to nibble puberty, 
whence devastating emotional crisis 
tripped, trilled, and tricked chronological 

clock theorizing numerous educated 
guesses within mindful middle progeny, 
and sole son (of Boyce and late Harriet Harris), 
why I willfully hurtled flesh at light speed
 
down abyss toward death. Literal and 
physical lightness manifested within 
nooks and crannies prior to full blown 
symptoms to eliminate sustenance 

drawing curtain on brief residence be
fore high noon of life. Metamorphosis 
from boyhood into man found solace 
attempting to keep at bay natural cycle,
 
which trans formation grieved me
pining nostalgic childhood’s end 
(one fraught with romanticism) 
vengefully interpreted attempt to halt 
deadly tracks intervention of mother, 
whose nursing experience helped fend  
passive attempt promulgated silent...

Cost of Obama

We only got lies for proof
Tag bodies of who we don't know
They can take the blame
And we'll only charge them the cost of changing their names

If you want unlimited healthcare
IOUs pour from Wall Street like Niagara Falls
Opening up the South of the border so out of order

And you can't take a vote
We'll just go for the throat
Silence critics with bullets of ended liberty
Got a passport but no photo to show
A birth certificate arriving after the April fools joke 

We can blame whoever we like, the media made him a Jesus case
But we can't say his name because its racist even if your black or white 

We got a few more years to count down
History channel already got the rights
He'll take his family on a permanent holiday
The wife and kids practice nearly every day 

And if we didn't vote him in
They would have said we let the racists win
But he tore down the things we loved and cherished
While little by little our freedoms he began infringing 

We lost the right to freedom of speech
When they decided our children's lessons weren't PC enough to teach 

So many people walking in circles
The pied pier got them hooked SNAP menus
I guess we only got ourselves to blame
When the best we could offer was Palin and McCain 

Kill our American dream
In too deep he reached
Tearing out a heart
Beating since 1774
He just goes out all day playing golf
While our finest are killed everyday from Kabul to the Gulf

He thinks he's another Martin Luther King
But he made a nightmare of our American dream

We got a few more years to count down
History channel already got the rights
He'll take his family on a permanent holiday
The wife and kids practice nearly every day 

And if we didn't vote him in
They would have said we let the racists win
But he tore down the things we loved and cherished
While little by little our freedoms he began infringing

He takes while your back breaks
He takes while your back breaks
Form: Lyric


Epistle To Barack Obama

this epistle per mine choice of heir apparent presidential throne
composed from one liberal minded non-conformist rolling stone  

prompted awareness that one voice can affect which contestant will win
and occupy the white house after the votes get tallied from political spin

aware thy missive from an anonymous fellow  and a self anointed scribe
will be carefully screened no matter opinion already cast with nada bribe

personal opinion of this sole american male of two score and nine years
that barack obama possesses that je ne sais quois diplomatic state craft
   despite disparaging broadside starring paris hilton plus britney spears

the land of lincoln candidate exemplifies (to myself) a charismatic charm
in tandem with a relaxed persona and gait akin per a commoner on a farm

that nonchalant easy going affinity speaks nonverbal volumes to this chap
cringes when espying or hearing from opposing challenger whose lips flap
   meaning john mccain whose hidden motives and agenda include his trap
to plant seeds of doubt per un-decided electorate causing lead to get a zap

unknown how trials and tribulations rival democratic senator from  Illinois
will weather local nor global challenges and said solution he might employ
i opt for said captain to steer ship of state and exclaim to drop anchor ahoy

if via cosmic divine intercession the galloping newcomer in this horse race 
ushering biracial as nominal winner televisions would show a beaming face
the political ramifications analogous to betting square outcome on this ace

i gently beg, decry, fulminate counter attack advertisements fast and quick
against those subliminal sly messages that at first blush appear airily slick
and please reach deep in that magic bag resorting to retaliatory artful trick
lest burning from the madding crowd extinguished like jack’s candle wick!

Eulogy For An Unsung Hero

Eulogy For An Unsung Hero ©

The late John Sidney McCain III,
     now flies with Arrow Smith,
     Babbitt, and Jefferson Airplane
five days shy of his
     eighty second birthday,
     taken down (to his demise)
courtesy, sans metastatic cancer of brain
defeated by an aggressive
     
deadly linkedin chain,
yet still earns kudos
     no matter 1967 USS Forrestal fire
     (during the Vietnam War)
     his life source did
     nearly completely drain
though purposeless prevails,
     asper absolute zero gainsay,

     no rhyme nor reason
     can even feebly explain,
when approximately
     a quarter million young men
     (oh...yes, perhaps
     some women too) perished
     at sea, on land, or floatplain
sacrificed their lives for nought,

     zip, nada nothing to GAIN
(my bald, billed,
     and bold assertion,
     a mere minor tirade
     subpar class 1 hurricane
non-veteran civilian personnel),
nonetheless afflictions by said
     United States veteran and,

     subsequent Senator from Arizona,
what posthumous praise me expresses
     merely mildly silly putty,
     piddly, paltry and inane
as anti septic (of danger) 
     such as books
     for children star
     ring Dick and Jane

does disservice, injustice offends,
(perhaps descriptive word choices
     might smack of hyperbole,
     my humble apology if in apropos),
thus a more app pealing appellation,
could be Citizen Kane,
whose corporeal being got lain
to rest on a grassy hill

     adjacent to the main
starting point of his storied existence,
     the burial plot (right next to
     lifelong friend Chuck Larson)
     amidst a plain

extolling grandeur and solemnity,
     where grim reaper didst slain
of Arlington National
     Cemetery in Virginia terrain
concluding mine poetic epistle,
     that didst wax and wane.
Form: Elegy

Tribute To the Twenty-Ninth Titans

If it were only me, I will be doing anyhow
Nobody would have been there to challenge me now

Now I look back into the face of the future,
What I see, golden grains, people of peasant pictures;

Red roses rooted in the soils of 29th August,
Some still sailing other down in the dazzling dust;

Blessed blueprint on earth pages by sincere sages,
Firm footprint by men with messages for all ages:

Ingrid Bergman, the mother of motion picture
Won worldwide awards, with firm face and features.

Michael Jackson, king of pop, sensational singer,
Dances and drums, thrilled the throng with Thriller*

Isabel Stanford, first African American, actress- leader
To win Emmy Award, Guess who is coming to dinner*

William Friedkin, award winning American producer,
The French connection*, the exorcist’s*… super screenwriter.

Richard Attenborough; British born, powerful TV producer,
Multiple Award winner for Gandhi *: a daring drama.

Rebecca De Mornay; an American film and TV actress,
Thrilled in the Testament* and her roles in Risky business*

Oh, Lauren Collins; an alluring actress, a colorful Canadian;
Thrilled in The Next generation*; she shares my day: a Nigerian.

John McCain, an ambitious American politician, a senior senator,
From Arizona, lived a lively life, formerly an active aviator.

Thom Gunn, a passionate and multiple award-winning poet, 
 For priceless poems collections…the man with night sweats*

Charles Kettering, American, an inspiring, intriguing inventor,
Invented automobile self starter and engine-powered generator.

Too many to mention: poets, actors, sportsmen and philosophers
Men and women: wise, wild and wonderful; lively, not loafers.

 
Adeite Adeleke, see the soaring stars who share thy dear date;
Learn from their fame, faults and frailty, focus on faith and fate.
Form: Couplet

The Westerns of Tv Land

I was watching the TV the other day
When a certain Rerun began to play.
It brought me back to one of my brain's stifled bans
Because it was about Lucas McCain...the Rifleman.

All of a sudden I was drenched by a flood
of Western Shows that have been long since dead.
I'll just begin with a few you may remember
Like Marshall Dillon - later Gun Smoke as it came on one September.

But I remember The Cisco Kid
and how Poncho always did what he did
we can't forget the masked stranger
who of course turned out to be The Lone Ranger

Then there was Wyatt Earp, Cimmaron Strip, and Rawhide too,
The Guns of Will Sonnet and a Wagon Train rumbling through.
Will anyone ever forget Paladin in Have Gun - Will Travel
or Trackdown or Wanted Dead or Alive with Josh Randall?

Can we ever forget The Big Valley,
or the Ponderosa's size when Bonanza came on the tele.
There were Tales of Texas Rangers and even an F Troop,
Let's not forget Rin Tin Tin and how down on the bad guys he'd swoop.

I still can see Lash Larue and Hopalong Cassidy with his black hat
There were Three Mesquiters to watch when I sometimes sat.
Do you remember Yancy Derringer and his friend Pahoo
or Johnny Yuma, The Rebel who never yelled "Yahoo"!

Maverick, Sugarfoot, and Cheyenne were favorites of mine
There are too many more here for me to rhyme.
Many a big star began on that little screen
If it hadn't been for the Westerns...What would they have been?
 
It can be fun thinking about some of those shows
Because they are a part of TV nostalgia as everyone knows.
They have come and gone like the heroes they'd portray
I remember the Westerns...and their horse's neigh.
© Dan Cwiak  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

My Ge-Generation

Don't go calling baby-boomers no heroes
Our legacy won't be much above zero
What GRAND contributions we've made
We blessed you with cocaine and aids!
All pop wanted when he survived the war
Was a quaint little family of four
But reality busted their bubble
What they got was truck-load a' trouble
We grew up too coddled and cozy
Running rings around po' little Rosie

Whatcha' get for paid college tuition?
A spoiled brat who can't do addition
Staging sit-ins to protect the masses
With pillows for tender little asses
No Vietnam or bust for THIS Joe
(My congressman will intervene, you know)
So go stuff your damn draft notice order!
(Later dude, gotta' run for the border)

Welcome back Sarge, here's your homecoming prize
How 'bout the finger and spit in both eyes?
We stand PROUD may God bless our sweet flag!
(You SALUTING?? Good lord what a drag!)
How we LABORED to set the world free!
Hey, wanna' check out my new SUV?

***Vietnam was of course a tragic mistake and there were many injustices during those times...However many of the protesters and draft dodgers were privileged, insulated rich kids who had no clue about the real world...The ultimate insult was Jane Fonda's visit to North Vietnam in 1972, where she proudly posed on an enemy anti-aircraft gun while POW's were being tortured practically next door..One of those POW's was Senator John McCain who was offered release but refused because those imprisoned earlier were not offered the same...now THAT'S what I'd call a Baby Boomer hero!
To her very small credit, 'Hanoi Jane' later apologized calling her visit a mistake and a betrayal to the troops...ditto to you, Ms. Fondue....
Form: Couplet

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