Long Parliamentary Poems

Long Parliamentary Poems. Below are the most popular long Parliamentary by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Parliamentary poems by poem length and keyword.


2 Terms of Political Office

2 Terms Of Political Office

A political leader of a country successfully managed to extend his term of office...
Brings up the question of the wisdom of the previous curb imposed to 2 terms in office....
Bolehland has on record the incredible long tenure of 22 years by Premier Dr Mahathir...
And plans are afoot to restrict succeeding premiers to only 2 terms is service....

2 term may be too short for long term overall development.....
Besides the problem from the surplus of such pensioners ...
And atypical of Bolehland mentality, ad hoc  programs will proliferate...
A merry go round of contractors, hangers on for part of the economic pie....
Hohoho...
Too frequent a changing of the guard....
Brings on too many a zealous new broom to sweep the room clean....
Hohoho....

On the other hand, a misguided head at the top....
Even a single term can have dire consequences....
Democratically there should be preventive measures...
To checkmate the slide into mediocrity...

Dr M helmed Bolehland for 22years....
Despite the many shortcomings, those were exemplary years....
Of prosperity, stability and high paced development....
Though with the benefit of hindsight...
Bolehland was tethering towards a gaping abyss...
Created by many policies and practices that have outgrown their noble objectives..
What was once a visionary and innovative initiative to correct a shortcoming....
Becomes a yoke of suffering and abuse once it's objectives are achieved....
Question of the day is when to review and to improve an initiative....
Before misrepresentations and abuses set in to abuse the system....
Then the need for change has to happen, a step back in order to move forwards 2 steps...

The Europeans were pioneers in coming up with parliamentary checks and balances...
But history too bears witness to the many atrocities and disasters they created...
The world wars, the religious crusades, the bullying politics of apartheid and slavery...
All faulted and wreaked by the overwhelming influence of  supremacy of race and religion ...
What Bolehland is undergoing, it is nothing new nor revolutionary...
The only positive, we could be on the path to maturity...
All the existing abuses and clamour for better governance....
Could just be manifestations of growing pains of a young democracy...


Water In the Morning

Water rains the philosophies of mums each morning plying jeer can with tough 
faces because the taps have been experiencing months of loneliness in it 
gush. 

The waking of sleepless mums gluing their hope to the taps gush, merely 
believe this city certain to save the mums from slavery of their own. Owed 
the boredom drenching in strings water to the songs of birds close the 
window to the windmill. 

The nights become longer to the size of river Nile wishing the night to 
swallow the day, their pace can be heard in parliamentary to the voice of 
the kettles rumbling in the morning

 Their sweat determines the pain they have been through to ignorant of the 
truth the pipes are like dead snakes on the roads biting us with fear. 

It gushes no water that too melancholy on milky tooth of incompetent man 
hovering his wings to the nation and attribution regretted.  

She colors her behavior to spit the crowded of women around the well to 
the crisscross that wills the nation to notion active only by the title of 
competency if imagined. 

The cascade of the city to scent of village with tantamount hope boiling no 
interest to glue in city that with no sign of before, but backwardness 
rumble to the dumbbell in the morning to mothers cry.
 
The dampness of their clothes to the scent of cockroaches well being, the 
fake manifesto entertains poverty and glue the water collectors to 
colloquial gossip in the morning hoping to ram the messed up and the big 
mistake ever nation has cried that circulated in short saga.

Dumb in parliament to the palatable junks of protruding stomach shining 
gown to the shake of lizard to the fall of Julius Cesar by the sword

And by the oath of power to the pointless of being a President to the 
resident overdue of coalition of poverty is fence of blunders on the frying 
plate

 by then the imagination of mums fetching the tinkling of water enshrined 
 them each morning to months of lamentation

They rallied you to paint their faces with hope of impregnated oath to 
breath of thief with heavy sombre spell diction's where we must defend to 
the arrival of Jesus by jumbling solutions to fix broken ideas to the 
weight night.

Revoltee Protestation Amnesia


America was born in protest violence,
but Lady Liberty now has
postpartum memento — 
A colonial, hypocritical condition called:
Revoltee Protestation Amnesia

Wavy umbilical vanished memories,
of destructive actions   ~   Terrible justification deeds
needed to break the bond of perceived tyranny

Swaddled in a dissent slogan banner,
her Revolution baby
first words uttered were:
“No taxation without representation”

Shedding musket tears 
of colonial employ,
the charter tyke was weaned on
East India Company tea

But the parliamentary shackles 
of free speech 
assembly oppression 
hurt America Revolution baby’s
neck too much

She couldn’t breathe liberty
as fetter such

Swift economic growing pains
bare witness how
the colonial child's voice changed

Words of pretty mild dissent 
turned protest ugly
Her juvenile behavior
developed bosom rage violently

It kindled a revolt-tea dumpster fire

At the righteous protestation
adolescent phase,
the Revolutionary young lady

riot-tossed 
into the Boston harbor
the British tea
Utter-ly destroying property of the E. India company

Oh, how the Revolution woman-child’s 
anger burned — 
Torch subtle as volatile voices often be

In Native American disguise,
she killed collaborative officials, 
who worked for 
the England government subsidiary

And when the fiery rage of her
riotous vexation
died down
This famous act of violence
subsequently became
protest 
praiseworthy
renown 

My, ooh my: Violence never was so romanticized! 
What a violent birther story,
wouldn’t you agree

But now a few hourglasses
filled with Crown Royal ambrosia:
America has drunken pride,
blackout deeds of protest amnesia

At the ripe age of whine maturity,
the Revolution contrary woman now do flag foreswear
she’s peacemaker toting as can be

Cursed be her revolt-tea dumpster fire, blackout memories

So don’t you darkie dare,
with grievance sidearms raised,
try to protest violently

Ain’t it funny how,
with memento frowns,
hypocrites forget so easily
Form: Narrative

Is This Me

I don't know what you're really thinking off me.
If this is real thinking I'm not thinking properly.
Everything inside me fights and tries to stop these warnings in mind, was fine and now they got me locked up in my divided mind of  conflict. 
In my declining life I'm rock bottom and forgetting my problems.
They want me better, I hear it commonly suggested though I'm exhausted of my efforts I've waisted on attempts.
Spent far too much energy on it and never getting ahead, watching thunder.
Reluctantly under thumbs of this system where parliamentary wickedness judges every movement.
Abusing their power, final hour they're losing vital signs, leave them clueless so there's room for improvement.
Some remain loyal and accept their horse ****, yet I predict our government will get a quick kick to the ribs for their fibs.
Lies and cheap disguises so why am I obliged  to fight beside this nation.
When the devastation came rampaging like a hurricane over their stage coach show, I'll crack the cases open then stroll like a Roman soldier no tolgien and when I expose these vocals unspoken, no joke it'll explode then we'll watch the commotion. 
Then to them we're out focus when we brew up mad potions stewed like hocus pocus and I'm in total involvement like when I'm holding a microphone flowing a rhyme with words that may upset and turn ya perpetrator. 
My brain splits like a glacier when my pen hits the paper and scripts murder and hurtful things in rhyme violence to beat riots, I'm defining mad science.
Temperatures off the gauge it raised up to the max, the glass cracked open, I'm breaking the stats.
Crazy devil dance out weighs your heavy stance, the landscape shakes when my mental state slams. 
Nastiest override of your entire mind. I'm the supplier of rhymes the sets ya head on fire and ignites you on the inside. 
Time to end denial and since I was a child I swore never to break a vow and saw mama pass down thoughts like the day after my father died she cry laughter....
Form: Lyric

Canopies of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality

Canopy’s of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality 

A botanical canopy of human emotion 
The preservation of the wildlife inside the ocean 
A consecration of sacred vows that culminate your devotion 
The invitation to contemplate as you consider abstract notions 

Turquoise reflections beneath an enlightened sky 
The pain of the dejections that protected you from a lie 
The rain clouds of perception that pierce your heart to make you cry
The unbelievable interjections of thought that constantly question why

Supernatural gifts pushing the boundaries of what we know 
Factual shifts in how we represent the information we want on show 
A lover lifts his head in the melted light of the afterglow 
A state of constant dread as we interrupt the natural flow 

Firmaments of shimmering beauty raining down from a sunlit morning
Wonderments of time unfolding before your eyes as a vision is forming
Achievements of unheard of refine only to serve as a constant warning 
Of the imminent decline we’re facing when confronted with Global Warming

Divisive opinions colliding on the parliamentary floor
Incisive decisions deriding as we wonder what all this conflict is really for?
Indecisive teenagers contriving their image while they’re constantly seeking more 
Derisive divisions forming at the Presidents front door 

A culmination of considerations that challenge the status quo 
An invocation of alliteration as we express more than we think we know 
A consummation of deliberation as we form conclusions that just won’t go 
A formation of imitations as we reveere those who rose above the low 

Don’t perpetuate the societal state of heirarchical exclusion
Or deliberate on what we venerate to reduce the mass confusion 
While we consummate the virtues we rate that break through the universal delusion
We invigorate the fierce debate that seeks to eviscerate illusion
Form: Rhyme


Canopies of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality

Canopy’s of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality 

A botanical canopy of human emotion 
The preservation of the wildlife inside the ocean 
A consecration of sacred vows that culminate your devotion 
The invitation to contemplate as you consider abstract notions 

Turquoise reflections beneath an enlightened sky 
The pain of the dejections that protected you from a lie 
The rain clouds of perception that pierce your heart to make you cry
The unbelievable interjections of thought that constantly question why

Supernatural gifts pushing the boundaries of what we know 
Factual shifts in how we represent the information we want on show 
A lover lifts his head in the melted light of the afterglow 
A state of constant dread as we interrupt the natural flow 

Firmaments of shimmering beauty raining down from a sunlit morning
Wonderments of time unfolding before your eyes as a vision is forming
Achievements of unheard of refine only to serve as a constant warning 
Of the imminent decline we’re facing when confronted with Global Warming

Divisive opinions colliding on the parliamentary floor
Incisive decisions deriding as we wonder what all this conflict is really for?
Indecisive teenagers contriving their image while they’re constantly seeking more 
Derisive divisions forming at the Presidents front door 

A culmination of considerations that challenge the status quo 
An invocation of alliteration as we express more than we think we know 
A consummation of deliberation as we form conclusions that just won’t go 
A formation of imitations as we reveere those who rose above the low 

Don’t perpetuate the societal state of heirarchical exclusion
Or deliberate on what we venerate to reduce the mass confusion 
While we consummate the virtues we rate that break through the universal delusion
We invigorate the fierce debate that seeks to eviscerate illusion
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Scoundrels of the Senate

Again these men comes to mind,
Paid to say yes and nay,
Lame duck,

Canker, ***** rapscallion minds
Incorrigible,
Political impostors detached from the humdrum of street cries
Maggots in honor
Damp squib temples of legislators
Dishonorable honorable,
Rotund circles of rascals
Fellows fit for the gallows
Clamping on huge figures,
While masses groan in penury and misery
These men,
Myopic spendthrift
Guilty of our nation’s scraggy state
Yet so confused to order the path of the clueless dummy
Who imposed tax on all, by military orders
Ignoring the pleas, and rightful protesters
Turned tyrannical with marching murderer on Lagos Street
Their gains is from the pain of myriads of unemployed
The beggars,
The homeless,
Hungering and the dying,
Yet, these,
Profligate band of quipster
Queasy brains,
Feigning parliamentary proceedings,
Though,
Benighted of procedural skills,
Bootleg insane scoundrels
Go to now, you dunce,
Senators are no thief
Legislators are honorable men
Your reputation!
Mud eaten,
Ask the people, they know so well,

Your inscriptions are carved on the web
The insignia of corrupt men
You pride faded,
Honor, a high price you must pay to regain,
Not with money
You banter and wade it off,
Glory in these,
Your temporal pride,
Your mansions outlive you,
Your coffins called cars
Your billions in Zurich,
Your fears to face the people
And the mockery of Truth
When your time is over,
Time shall mock your reigns of folly,
With sicknesses of nameless brand,
Retrospectively,
Sufferers will call to mind, the avoidable denials,
Their pains, their poverty in your pride against your master- THE PEOPLE,
Welcome to your misery
as the masses will watch you die
rascal of usurps seats of honor, don’t call them fools.

Parliamentary

I sometimes sit and try to wonder
What life would be like without the thunder.
A challenge comes with each new day
More bad than good I cannot say.
I take them on one by one
I think I forgot life was fun.

People in suits seem to decide for me
What they think is my destiny.
Sat like school kids bickering and fighting
How come they never feel the lightning.
Both sides of the house has become corrupt
Their plans we can't interrupt.
Two sets of wings from the same bird
We argue and fight while they laugh at the herd.

Sheep we have all become 
A two party system we must be dumb.
They do not care for our sick or old
Only filling their pockets with gold.
We follow along with hope and we pray
That something will change one day.
The only way to change a damn thing
Is to fight them in their ring.
Show the people the truth and their lies
Lay it bare before their eyes.

In 60s the people, they surrendered
It was almost a time the world remembered.
Of what it means to be a human being
Peace and love they started feeling
Now we're back at square one
The elite are still having their fun.
Start some wars for power and gold
I'll tell you the truth, it needs to be told.

But now we have the internet you and me
The power of the world we all can see.
Over a million faces all looking the same
They've had enough they're fighting the game.
Join earths army you really should
We do what we can, we done what we could.

Tho against their laws we act
Their not lawful check this fact.
Agree you must for these acts to be in forced
Their only parliamentary endorsed.
Our people have fought for our rights before
How much more do we have to endure.
Form: Couplet

My Country

 India is a country of diversities
People are accustomed to adversities 
Inhabited by a pluralistic population
That still survives as a nation

The landscape contains mountains and rivers 
The high peaks of Himalayas give climbers shivers
Rivers flow past forests with rich fauna and flora
The majestic tiger makes visitors awed by its aura

Spoken languages differ from one state to another
But the soil is considered sacred, like a mother
Customs and habits are different, too
Depending on where one was born and grew

Religious festivals are held all round the year
Devotees flock to temples from far and near
Priests commemorate numerous deities
Practice rituals ordained by religious societies

Clothes are worn with various hues and styles
People exchange greetings with hugs and smiles
At the congregation of different religious orders
There are many guests from across the borders

The form of government is parliamentary democracy
Numerous political parties ensure there is no autocracy
Months before elections, the political weather is hot
Battle of abuses, lies begin, each giving the best shot

Elections are held periodically to fill the seats
Winning party forms the government, celebrates with treats
Before election, sobriety dies as each party gives a clarion call 
The verbal fight continues often ending in a brawl

This country was inhabited by great sages in the past
Who preached tolerance among all religions and caste
Common people love the prevalence of peace everywhere
Greedy politicians plant discord to enhance their share
 
End
Form: Rhyme

Year Zero Uk Style

They’re not coming here to nurse us
Because of the approaching Brexit day
But it doesn’t really matter because 
There’s no money for treatment anyway.
After buying planes for the carrier
And replacing the Trident deterrent,
That’s a great big whack
Of our taxes spent:
Then there’s  repairs to Buck House,
Cash for our own dear Queen,
Westminster Palace renovated
To smarten the Parliamentary scene,
Tax cuts and perks
For the very wealthy,
Just no money left 
For the poor and unhealthy.
If they were patriotic
They would understand why
It’s in the National interest
They just crawl off to die.
So long as we’ve enough
To provide a Servant class
We really don’t need 
A a larger proletarian mass.
Large profits coming
From our new railway track
And with Brexit looming nearer
We’ll soon have our Country back.
We can look forward 
To a future bright and new
With our nice passports
Coloured nicely Tory blue.
The  possibilities are intriguing
When we go our own way
Great Britain once again
All Hail Brexit Day.
If prosperity is slow to come
There’s no need to wait
Our little offshore island
Can become  fifty first state,
With a capital renamed Trumpton,
Farage as the puppet head
Not God Save The Queen
Just Stars And Stripes instead.
Pull up the drawbridge 
Turn the clock back to zero
Fiddle while Rome burns
With our modern Tory Neros
Written over two years ago
Enough to make one swear and curse
Really hard to credit but
Unbelievably things have got worse
Form: Rhyme

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