Long Political party Poems
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Time for New Campaign Year ReSolutions,
perhaps informed with some new political economy
discernment questions.
Why is a free market
most accessible to those with the largest investments
in marketing?
Could this be the same question:
Why are our free political elections
most accessible to those who invest most heavily
in self-partisanship?
Why does suppression or oppression or repression,
some kind of taxing expression,
of the free cooperative-barter labor market
feel related to the rapidly increasing disecological cost
to Earth's formerly free commodities,
elements,
communionation,
co-arising intelligence,
ecosystemic integrity,
and possibly some cooperative research
hunting and gathering nutrients,
while avoiding toxicity?
Why does it cost so much
to competitively market the economic policies and political procedures
intended to evolve healthy cooperative free markets?
Why does freedom from fearful need for
--debt forgiveness
--redemption
--absolution
--ever more effectively voiced competition
to avoid untimely divestment
feel so much like freedom to give
mutually cooperative compassion
--for being merely human,
--for not being humane enough for our own SuperMonoTheistic
Awareness,
--for not being unnaturally spiritual enough
for our EgoCenters to entirely forget
our ubiquitously shared neurosystemic
empowering political
and enlightened economic
RNA regenerative roots?
Why do I feel
and not think
free of participating in competing
racist
sexist
homophobic
eco-political networks,
structures,
systemic trauma
When I buy groceries and clothes,
every time I support an
--overly anthro-indulgent,
--over-commodified
--overly toxic
--overly carbon-footprinted
--overly LeftBrain dominant
corporation
Including political party corporations
competing for market shares in votes,
and how do I feel free to support overly incorporated candidates
for overly-commodified public offices?
Why does an independent multiculturist
sound like an oxymoron?
while a cooperative polyculturing network
sounds like deep nurturing
nutritionally healthy
resonance?
I am an elephant or Republican I think
After a couple of drinks
If memory serves me I'm pink
When not frolicking on the savanna
Pushing down trees for a snack
I work in a circus act
This place smells like a zoo
I'm getting too old and put on some pounds
It is hard to climb trees these days
Or ladders to success
Pole vaulting is out of the question
Circus food sucks
They say you are what you eat
I must be very tiny from the stuff that they feed me
Peanuts are very nutritious but small
My keepers want to keep me lean
They think that I'm stupid and make fun of my feet
If they are small than something else must be small
Accusing me of peeing myself on stage is the last straw
They say my brain is the size of the food that I eat also
I'm sick of them too
Vegetables and fruits are delirious…. or is it delicious
I forget how I got in this circus zoo mess
Why do I have a big E on the pajamas
Perhaps to identify me while in bed
Or to avoid common confusion with them
I know you think that I wrote it myself
But my feet are too large for that
Someone must have printed it
A political party perhaps
If you ask me what I think
The elephant in the room not called Trump is me
Much to my chagrin
barely discerned, noticed above
the celebratory Republican din
the commander in chief
all smiles with engined
haired cohorts evincing
ear to ear tousled grin,
feather in cap for apprenticed
president and kin,
which exemption, sans suspected
collusion deflated balloon,
asper impeachment with figurative pin,
hoof foresees unbridled spin
and reluctantly I admit a win
for oval office occupants,
now crowing with dens zen
of Democrats nemesis,
sought after cat in bag
to snag the 20/20 election - dag
nabbit, now suddenly hands off
to hot synonymous to a burning flag
infuriating an angry red bull,
whereby kicked up dust dost gag,
no doubt Donkey Kong doth lag
behind Elephant given boost
regarding race to occupy Oval Office,
(bout 18 months hence) with swag,
yet partisan bickering
promises divisiveness about
conclusion Robert Mueller,
political party in power will flout,
and hammer home (sic) cull
doughboy Putin on Ritz with nary a pout,
and suddenly a shoe win victory...
finds this average Joe
Biden envisioning a rout
as campaign soon begins in earnest
unwise to toss in hat, and tout
positive opinion billionaire tycoon barren
glistening pearly whites, and smug Darren
any naysayer to cross
twittering account Heron,
now that his ego the size of Taj Mahal,
where head honcho rear in
to pull out all stops with
unsheathed claws tear wren
into every mass media
to disseminate latest twist,
deflecting opprobrium
with many voters pissed
and disillusioned at unsubstantiated list
of purported high
crimes and misdemeanors,
perhaps taking cheeky liberty,
viz various sundry gals tubby kissed
rapidly punctuating exhortations grist
for milling potential resurgence
with pumping fist
feeling on top of the world,
no doubt glad to exist.
She gives me her ideas, none of them mine.
I nod my head, but my soul is dancing in time.
The hippie wagon is coming for me today.
With a smile and a wave I yell hip hip hooray!
She is a member of a political party I abhor.
But this does not keep her away from my door.
She hates liberals, she tells me, and I keep quiet.
She sees the hippie wagon; I think it’s a riot!
But why would you go with those people? She asks, a bit dippy.
She has no idea but others know I am totally a hundred percent hippie.
I give her the peace sign as they carry me away.
Seeing her astonished face has kind of made my day!
America has been GREAT, great for the last two centuries.
All right, America has been the greatest among all countries,
For a long time. MAGA is a cheap pleonasm, which just
Won the most contentious election in American history.
The problem, as widely reported, Trump is corrupt, unjust,
Sexist, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, vociferous, and nasty.
This is the first time that we have such a hyperactive loose cannon,
Who is despised by his own political party. He is an orchestra
Of unusual lyrics and melodies. The man is like an untamed lion.
As a reminder, money, strength and power are not everything.
Humility, wisdom, decency, and common sense, in America,
Are extremely crucial and important, to make the dogs sing.
A president should be a role model, a beacon for children;
A fighter, a problem solver, a savior for the entire electorate;
A leader, a giant not a bully, a diplomat for the world to emulate.
The jury will be deliberating; America does not need to be 'great again';
We need an improved economy, mutual respect, controlling the flow
Of immigration, money, illicit drugs, and put our ducks in a row,
To be a haven for all, regardless of race, color, gender and ethnicity.
America is the greatest, I am not lying; simply ask the Statue of Liberty.
Copyright © November 11,2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Choosing a favorite President is quite an arduous task
Given that most politicians usually wear a spurious mask,
but as a student of History, there was one that I admired;
" the scrappy kid from Kansas."* So many he has inspired.
In his biography there's a plethora of interesting information.
'Ike" was a 5 star general, besides leading this great nation.
A war hero, selected to be America's Commander and Chief.
A man of great integrity, who did not cause his country grief.
In his honor, a Washington Memorial was dedicated.
His bravery in war, and acts as President are celebrated.
After the war, he commanded European NATO forces
and overthrew communism from it's evil courses.
Voted U. S. President in 1952, with the slogan, "I Like Ike,"
Richard Nixon was his running mate; they were nothing alike.
In two terms served, he created a grand legacy for his name.
A President for the people, to him the office was not a game.
There are many valuable quotes that Eisenhower left behind
and I'll end with a few that I feel worthy for us to keep in mind;
none more appropriate than this one, I was happy to find...
"Some day there is going to be a man sitting in my present chair who has not been raised in the military services and who will have little understanding of where slashes in their estimates can be made with little or no damage. If that should happen while we still have the state of tension that now exists in the world, I shudder to think of what could happen in this country."
"The middle of the road is all of the usable surface. The extremes, right and left, are in the gutters."
"Leadership consists of nothing but taking responsibility for everything that goes wrong and giving your subordinates credit for everything that goes well."
"If a political party does not have its foundation in the determination to advance a cause that is right and that is moral, then it is not a political party; it is merely a conspiracy to seize power."
February 11, 2021
Your Favorite President Contest
Sponsored by: L Milton Hankins
*Inscribed on the Eisenhower Memorial
There have been eleven presidents in my lifetime
and all but one has acted “Presidential.”
I recall, as a child, listening to adults discuss
politics and presidents, as if they were in a class
above the norm, living in a white house reserved
for the very elect.
As a young adult, I recall how presidents
ignored criticism, while lieutenants attacked enemies
with a vengeance each night on radio and television.
But then western culture changed, slowly at first,
replacing suits with T-shirts, canvas shoes for leather.
The wealthy relaxed and lived simpler lives, pretending
to be middle class.
Formalities gave way to new conventions.
Mothers use words that make grandmothers blush.
Personal honor is obsolete and materialism ranks
higher than spiritualism.
Finger food and paper napkins dominate menus,
while china cabinets collect dust.
And then a president was elected, reflecting this new
culture; one who flaunts old customs and is self-absorbed.
It matters not what political party is represented.
It was inevitable.
Critics decry the loss of tradition.
Many are offended that the president fails to reflect
the dignity of George Washington,
who is now detested by many for owning slaves.
Turmoil surrounds an office that retaliates,
denigrates and pontificates hourly.
Calls for more “Presidential” behavior go unheeded.
And then the unexpected happens.
A previous president is sucked into the mire,
begging the question,
“Is it unpresidential for an ex-president to criticize
a sitting president for being unpresidential?”
Where this ends one cannot tell,
but as society sinks to lower levels,
elected leadership follows.
Never mind one's feet of clay, for not one soul is perfect.
Never mind what political party one swears allegiance to.
Never mind all the crazy things one says from time to time.
Never mind what sex one comes home to, or makes love to.
Never mind what name one calls God; if one knows God or not
What matters above all; one's inner humanity. We're all flawed yet special!
Submitted for...
Bite-Size Poem No.9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Date written: 06/26/2021
When the ability to write manifested itself among the many learned minds, accounting, and recordkeeping too, had manifested as what has become known to be called, history.
The routine breakdown, and the frequency in some reflective properties via some periodic order post-prehistory, as the assorted is gathered and assembled for review and interpretative insights, thus creating the effects and all that is belonging to that particular portion of history.
Remembering and placing events, people, and places, all of that, sorted out history.
The discoveries that were established, explorations of findings, investigating quests, and figuring out enigmas, such became part of history.
A miscellany of items and artifacts of life during any given period is a form of physical purpose to history.
A common source becomes noticeable and formidable as an organization, a religious order, a political party, a civil association, an action group, or a school recital, whether they be big or small, they are all part of history.
When events present themselves, as to how it is articulated and expressed, the wherefores and whereof, are indicators given to history.
How we treat some exceptional thing, our rendition of it, and our particular point of view, like understanding its artistic values, are intricate matters for the basis of history.
The changing of the nexus, fads, styles, precepts, and concepts; specifically, for this writing, nowadays interpretation concerning one's gender, meaning, 'Herstory' too, makes history.
The Trojan of our heroic struggle
The heroic struggle against chains
Which beckons with pains
That tends to make us insane
For we are already stained
As they offer us disdain
Nowhere but in the scorchy rain
From the cradle lipping with light . . . of wisdom
Grew to be part of the struggle against the kingdom
Clenching fisticuff against the host hoarding our freedom
For the student movement’s struggle against the fiefdom
Reigned like others that thinketh not of the days of doomdom
Whilst the 80’s have those that have seldom
Bothers not about their selfishly accrued freedom
And bear brunt and boredom:
The late Chris Abasi
The late Rotimi Ewebiyi(RE)
Lanre Arogundade,Emman Ezeazu
Olu Oguibe, Labaran Maku
Ogaga Ifowodo, Bamidele Aturu . . .
Who scrawl their sobriquet in the Ingrained
Annals of the Nigerian student struggle
Those whose names sends
Cold and shiver to the Military junta
Chima, a born Trojan
Had no laurels and medals to display
Except for broken ribs and
Bruised lips with a bloodied head
For a cause he believed in
Ubani, a masculine Amazon
It just occurred to me that your demise has left
A big lacuna in the revolutionary kingdom in Nigeria
You remain the unassuming link amidst
The ultra-leftist, the progressives
The right activists, the social critics
The liberals and other change seekers
All along, you raised the slogan of
System change and Regime change
Craving for a working class mass based
Political party to take over
So that we can move over
Whenever we see the sign of cross over
In order not to spill over
In our quest to possess our possession
You remain a Trojan in the gully
Having kept your head above murk
In the human right trenches
You have scribbled your name boldly in
Gold on the sand of history
The road claims another Trojan
Unable to lose us out of your life
We gain from the blood and pains
A living testament to earn us new hearts
And firm us on the more
Forever in the struggle till we wet out
The blood of our tormentors and oppressors.
Alayande Stephen Tolulope
September 27th 2005
4.45pm
Form: