Long Politician Poems
Long Politician Poems. Below are the most popular long Politician by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Politician poems by poem length and keyword.
Depart from your accustomed
typically usual routine.
Specialize in being a generalist.
Immerse yourself fully in the whole entirety
of the complete volume.
You’ll be surrounded on all sides
by a myriad and multitudinous plethora
of permanent and long-lasting linguistic verbiage.
Feel like a pedagogical school teacher.
Have an impactful influence on events.
Fly above the earth.
It’s deceptively mendacious,
and fine as French champagne!
Here’s a sneak peek advance preview of
Colonel J. D. Waxwood's Harmonious Concordance
of Repetitive Redundancies, Sufficient Enough Tautologies,
and Irrational Non-sequitors, from BadSeedPress:
AKBAR THE GREAT
AMERICAN INDIAN
ATM MACHINE
CENTRAL CORE
CHICKEN COQ AU VIN
CONCISE SYNOPSIS
CORRUPT POLITICIAN
FLESH COLORED
FREE GRATIS
FRESH FROZEN
GUEST HOST
HAWAIIAN LUAU
MORE PERFECT
ORIGINAL COPY
PIN NUMBER
PIZZA PIE
PRE-REGISTRATION
SELF-CENTERED NARCICIST
SILENT MUSICAL
TINY LITTLE [ANYTHING]
TUNA FISH
WISE-ASS SOPHOMORE
When we were children, he played half a part in growing.
He was always sure of himself, forever knowing
that if he worked hard, and devoted himself for us,
he would be sure to provide a life that’s fabulous.
There’s one Sunday in June that to all of us is dear.
However, we should honor him every day this year.
The man may be a lifesaver as a physician,
or hold any other quite important position.
He may be in government as a politician,
or keeping all records straight as a statistician.
Whatever may be his life’s goal, or his vocation,
we’re sure to owe him great amounts of admiration.
He may negotiate until a deal has been struck.
He is a Teamster’s Union member driving a truck,
or in a Chinese restaurant cooking Peking Duck.
To have him for a father, we have all been in luck.
Whatever he does or accomplishes in living,
he has been a great father, and he keeps on giving.
So if it applies to you men, here is what I’ll say:
I wish all of you the happiest of Father’s Day.
So, what is the best theme for
a poem? No guarded secret, all themes --
Freely to Roam! And what, the prescribed
destination or direction? Wherever the poet,
himself, deems worthy of fond or pertinent
affection –
Poetic Theme (extended metaphor)
So, what is the best theme for
a poem? No guarded secret, all themes –
Freely to Roam! And what the prescribed
destination or direction? Only those fond
and pertinent, giving affectionate-justification as
reason for procrastination – to linger in a moment's
subtle discovery – the courses followed only those
which the poet deems entrancingly divine – he seeks
heartfelt permanent encampment – or just an
amicable pause, in a neighboring field, fertile for
blooming enchantment; with his companion pen, to chronicle
canorous visuals, fervently inspired – or simply folksy,
lyrical rides; for the poet, alone, decides where his poetry lives
or temporarily abides –
(his muse, never far off – nearby, perhaps reflecting in the shade of a flowering
fruit tree: heaped in petals, not trying to hide – more enjoying the velvety feel of an
apple before the outer peel, though colorful, would be far too bitter for his present
aromatic meal) – muse and poet, composing through a single eye. Writing as one:
sharing new sights – sounds with scent – their mind dutifully toward poetry
bent – shades of detail, mellifluously transcending common scheme and rhyme –
incanting verse worthy of a brief performance, or immortal, blessed shrine –
It's all fair, such dulcet affair! All subjects! All seasons! – preferring spring, in which to self-lavish and spiritually entwine. Therefore, his paths are fanciful, never truthful as definitive
would define; often choosing glitter over harsh realty, yet can be a prophet and oracle if a troubling-time -- though never, a ruling class mime; – in this sense, he is a likable charlatan, a chimerical rebel...irreconcilable passion his soulful crime, therefore not ever exhibited, an atoning-word or act of sorrowful contrition – so loved by God, who gags at his counterpart, the lying politician.
Little Reina in the midst of a dream
Hands holding her cheeks like a beam
What’s in her thoughts, you wonder?
Can it be about lightning and thunder?
A serene expression is on her face
She’s enlightened and full of grace
May be dreaming what she’d be as a teen
Perhaps an actor on which she is keen
No chance of becoming an actor, says granny
Soon she would be doing roles of a nanny
Maybe she’d be a scientist says grandpa
What! Attending conferences to talk blah!
Then what would she’d be, pondered mummy
With all her teachers she is so chummy
Says daddy, it’s a perfect case for a politician
She can make money in crores from any mission
Reina awoke from slumber with a yawn
Said, she was dreaming about a big white swan
Who once lived in a castle as a handsome prince
When a magic spell cast him into a swan ever since.
END
For R . L
What you really want
Political Poetry Contest
26/03/2021
Politics L.M.H
Learn from your elders
a wise old Q-tip
When veryone gets treated equally
as an individual based on
this fact or premise
That one's deeds and actions
meeted out to other's are reciprocal
in kind
So cometh the day the good and
caring aretruly blessed and 1st in
every que
And those of opposite persuasion
hopefully have eye's to spare
Or in the back of their head
Answer the question
What i really want
Is like what Martin Luther King said
I also have a dream
For when the day comes when
a single politician or political
party
Makes and turns this vision of utopia
into a Boniface reality
And this question poses becomes
redundant
I hope this clears my politics up
First and foremost respect and
learn from your elders
And put to good use and
utilize their experience
and worldly knowledge
As it can only benefit future
generations to come
If god willing they have the
humility to listen
Rather than name and shame
oblivious to the facts
Street Vendor (Shouting): Fresh fruit! Mango, papaya, all ripe and sweet!
Executive (Dictating): To whom it may concern, regarding the recent...
Teenager (Texting): OMG! Did u see the new meme? LOL!
Grandmother (Humming): A lullaby from a forgotten time…
A child's delighted shout: “Look, Mama, a rainbow coming out!”
All (Clashing): A cacophony, a symphony, a market of tongues!
Scholar (Whispering): Heteroglossia, the chorus within,
Each voice is a thread, a social spin.
Highbrow, lowbrow, a vibrant fray,
Meaning shimmers, born of the play.
Politician (Booming): Together we stand, united and strong!
Activist (Chanting): Whose streets? Our streets! Fight the wrong!
Lover (Sighing): Your name, a whisper on my lips tonight...
All (Clashing): A cacophony, a symphony, a market of tongues!
Poet (Observing): Discord and harmony, a tangled song,
Where language dances, righting and wrong.
A tapestry woven, rich and alive,
The human chorus, forever to strive.
All (Fading): The voices mingle, a murmur, a sigh,
Heteroglossia, the voice of all in unison, beneath the open sky.
According to his scientists’ age and serious calibration
This half-ass earth life is merely a fleshly demonstration
To test each and every crooked politician and nation
To see where they like their minions in mass to vacation.
According to the king’s ambassador’s correction
We are going in a complete and opposite direction
We need to think about a heartfelt revolution
Before we are all smothered by our own pollution
If our bunkers are not built of plutonium construction,
We might soon be feeling a bit of underlying obstruction
For this is not a mere simpleton’s warning demonstration,
But rather a call for you to use your imagination.
If things continue environmentally in the same direction
You can throw away all thoughts of any kind of true affection
For we will be too busy trying to breathe as a gas-masked nation
To communicate, laugh, love, or take selfies, let alone vacation.
Electorate on tenterhooks until...
outcome of 2020 presidential election announced
Polling places slated to open seven o'clock
in the morning November third two thousand twenty
heightened tensions will strain patience
to breaking point concerning
extreme anticipation common joe experiences
(biden his/her time)
regarding which candidate trumpeted
as de facto commander in chief of United States.
Carpe diem the echoing refrain
heard and seen dispensed and broadcast
across telecommunications medium
cuz the very survival of democracy at stake
ruthless political machinations employed
to seize inalienable codified rights
couched within Declaration of Independence
and Constitution, written ethos, dogma, credo...
compiling aggregate of fundamental principles
or established precedents that constitute
legal basis of a polity, organisation
or other type of entity and commonly
determine how entity governed.
Understanding North American government
inextricably found yours truly agape
when chance occurrence brought hefty tome
into self assigned reading material
which storied author David McCullough
wrote engrossing John Adams biography
I read aloud with measured deliberateness
clearly enunciating each syllable of every word
despite runaway enthusiasm
to acquire historical premise
whereby original thirteen colonies
teetered on brink of immediate collapse
soon after majority representatives
swore fealty among themselves
despite ragtag soldiers
easily overwhelmed courtesy
fighting force of British Empire.
As a staunch affiliate of democratic party,
one veritable common joe
just biding his time,
I trumpet how crass
deleterious, egregious, fractious...
usurpation of power
jackknifed, kickstarted and linked
endemic flood (gushing) hatred
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious putrescence
laid down at the feet
upholding seventy five inches
of corpulent doughy flesh
regarding one conceited, haughty, and obstreperous
politician orchestrating machiavellian leitmotif.
Mark my words, that bull headed incumbent
will clamor, foment, incite, loose chaos
if Democratic candidate garners more votes
at the ballot box nsync with absentee citizens
casting their lot with the worser of two evils
otherwise put head between legs,
and kiss tuckus goodbye,
cuz hell in a handbasket looms on horizon.
I am a bad, bad, BAD boy
*** and NC-17 qualified,
I frequent the easy streets in leisure zone
and walk with a swagger.
I own my time
I own my dreams
I have my own plans,
I am the center of my domain--
I, Me and Myself,
I don't waste my time
to appease nobody,
I know what I want and
ain't afraid to go for it,
I don't just sit and mope
I got to get up and get going.
I am a bad, bad boy,
I don't suffer fools easily
Nor a politician or a priest,
I'm impatient with small talks
wading through friendly BS.
I am honest and don't beat around
the bush – foreplay is a waste of time,
I go for the main show!
I am cocky and like to tease--
A lighthearted back-and-forth
keeps a relationship passionate and fiery,
I engage in verbal swordplay.
I am a bad, bad boy
I don't want to get caught praying
or coming out of a confession,
Neither would I like to be seen
drinking beer or champagne,
A Jack Daniel's on-the-rock kinda guy,
Hair messy and a slight stubble,
least to smile, chewing a dead cigar,
Twinkle in my eyes, a gold tooth,
adorned all over with pledge-of-love tattoos
I'll stand up for my girl and fight,
For I am a bad, bad, BAD boy
But, a good, good, GOOD man!
~Casarah Nance contest, Prompt 2
He preached a pious excrement like any other politician.
Her smut seemed poetic until she took her knickers off.
Her light burned all night, but her heart was always dark.
His evil odiousness soon ran out of gas, but never his bowels.
Nothing is sacred if dog poop and daffodils are not.
There is more sexuality in one word than in ten brothels.
His reality was a bad dream and we all lived in his mind.
Seraphic activists will hunt you down with a righteous frown.
If you are a jerk
then the order of holy men, is your sacred calling.
Dorothea, put that sacrificial knife down!
I am always alone in a crowd, fortunately.