Long Politicking Poems

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


Premium Member If Ever I Had To Have a Country Victim of Pedophily:Lxxxiv

If ever I had to have a country victim of pedophily : LXXXVI

[Note: 216,000 cases of pedophily, perpetrated by the clergy, have been recorded by the Catholic Church in France since 1950.]

If ever I had to have a country, would that it be a country where no infant boy or lad need ever fear of being the victim of pedophily 

Let it also be a country that sent no Albuquerque or Vasco de Gama, Drake or Raleigh, Cortes nor Dupleix to undermine the « street arabs » and « orphaned » heathens under seal of the Papal authority

For, remember how I was persuaded to assume the rôle of Ministre d’État Plenipotenciary without Portfolio or Duty, the Saviour of down-trodden Womenkind (O, « A Daniel come to Judgement ! »),
for I’d turn Torquemeda, revive the Inquisition, the Ace of Papacy

Will I let fresh-cheeked choir boys nor novice sacristans in strict page-boy linen, candle or Cross in hand lisping psalms disappear in the dense stench-filled folds of priestly « soutanes » behind pillars under Roman arches or polished teak encrusted encasements their stifled cries for help choked through holy promiscuity

Nor will I let Henry the VIIIth behead his wives in the Tower for failing to provide him with a male heir nor let no Archbishop lie bleeding at the Cathedral at Canterbury nor no politicking murder
stain some Florentian cathedral to foist the House of Medeci

You guessed right alright, I’ll take over the Tower of London as my foremost torture dungeon, call out the Swiss helmeted Guards with their spears and while I keep puffing at the Havana cigars (a chest-full gift from Fidel Castro, in grateful acknowledgement of inestimable services rendered to soft-ball gals in shedding excess weight on the ground) and keep crying out « Habemus » Pope to drown out the squeals yells and screams issuing from pedophiles pierced by Swiss lances in the rears of millions of priests found  guilty 

You bet that’s what I’ll do even if the entire Order of the Malte forgot about the Crusades against the Turks and Saracens - and poor one-armed Cervantes – during the Battle of Lepanto just to crucify me

And so what even if I never ever had no country with orphaned infants and laddies to pity

© T. Wignesan, Paris – Octobre 14, 2021
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Indices of a Loon

GOODLUCK 

Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Oozing pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes) 
On congruent grounds we let him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail, waiting substitute to end the reign of quack 
Lacklustre, insipid and a pervading naivety. 
Unvaried captain rocks this  boat, gagged by plunderers. 
Circles of death, twinge,  miseries the reign of a drab creek king
Kleptocracy adorning imposition,

EBELE 

Embezzlers on rampage, holes bequeathed for pillaging. 
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched  obtuse scamp 
Egregious craven shrieked at the sound of war “I am not a lion”.
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps 
Encumbrances from delinquent clan divide the love for mother land 

DAME

Damp squib's duchess & indecent tongue, devoid of restraint 
Audacious  domestic appendage ferrying funds  
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations, 
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
 
PATIENCE 

Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults. 
Adventurous nerve for futile globe -trot. 
Twitchy at state's affairs though never elected.
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity. 
Euphemistic drama, Scrappy curiosity with comedy. 
National dilemma by decorated buffoons.  
Crude verbiages to amuse eggheads “my Fellow widows” 
Encomium of  approval turned sour “Power” the pipe for thieves.


JONATHAN  


Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking ) 
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen 
Numbed as  "hoipolloi echoed NO to mistimed removal, 
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looting Criminals Lords over us 
Tyranny cloaked garbs, creek professor without a thesis. 
Higgledy-piggledy  a travesty called  democracy. 
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam, 
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured, while we die helpless
Form: Burlesque

White House Possibly In the Future

White House Possibly in the Future

When my wife had looked at her clock
She was in a complete state of shock
Seemed like the usual same old song
I again had been sleeping all day long.

After I finally found myself wide awake
Another nice nap I did decide to take
Which was restful, peaceful and sublime
That it had lasted until supper time.

Wrote this poem somewhere in between
And was never sure what it may mean
When the sun down soon started to creep
I again fell into one more very deep sleep.

Discovered that I had slept for forty years
And when all my hopes along with the fears
Were waiting there ready for me to greet
What should I do with them after I meet?

My destiny tried to choose and was picking
And I ended up doing was some politicking
That to do it all I had carefully planned for
When some said seven add ad to four score.

Which had been how many years ago it was
To memorize address in school everyone does
(Or else you wouldn't find your way home.)
And not only that I have heard some say
It all occurred in Gettysburg good old PA.

Imagine me marrying a good looking babe
Actually married none other than Honest Abe
And when we had looked at her picture again
Not only was she ugly but worse then sin.

Her ugliness caused bark to fall off of trees
For the whole winter were in a deep freeze
When all of the frozen water saw her face
It all melted and ran all over the place.

After we then had gone on a real long hike
To see what new first lady would look like
Abe was killed and Congress gave their consent
For his ugly wife to be the next new President.

Due to her lack of beauty we were thrown back
Then we heard someone else making a wisecrack 
God had visited Congress and He was hinting
Next women in White House should be a Clinton.

It have been a pleasant, nice day and also very
Which was on twentieth day of merry January
And adorable Hillary came to enter the scene
Now in new year of twenty and seventeen.

You will have to check out my math for me.
Also, can you actually believe that I wrote
all of this? James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Indices of a Loon

GOODLUCK

Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll, 
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes) 
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie. 
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty

EBELE

Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope, 
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion) 
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps 
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land

DAME

Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel, 
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations, 
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their  amity. 

PATIENCE

Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot 
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows) 
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails

Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015) 
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal, 
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop 
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless

Clocks Ticking To Politicking

(Read later stanzas for more of the humour part ; parody of politics)

I Can't think well of a democracy
if nepotism and false promises
are part and parcel of its idiosyncrasy
A system of governance can't appeal to me
if it forever stinks of the 'stinking' rich plutocracy.

The media the ravening wolves many times their puppets,
together they howl for our  divided attention
With wily words to win the masses of marionnettes
The nation's welfare merely their scheme in pretension.

Wonder why political power has to be the monopoly
of ambitious, vainglorious affluent power moguls.
Why can't they simply choose leaders
from any sincere poor yet wise and humble individuals?

The promises of a better world by 'em' politicians
are simply the oratory tricks of slick tacticians.

Demagogues come in all shapes and sizes
They come in 'perfect' future leader disguises
Pulling you and me to polling booths, luring us the dumbstruck voters
To amass as much power and wealth as possible in their limited quotas.

No wonder poor presidents are turned or burned
in the form of their rude and crude effigy cartoons
Comic sarcastic politics I say, since a caricature
it purposely lampoons!

Then the demonstrations, remonstrations
but they only invite riots and tear bomb gas
So if yah can keep your rallies peaceful
maybe you won't be such an ass.

And if yah do go ahead ranting, panting, slogun chanting
No seeds of discord nor weeds of hate be sowing, planting
for a showdown with fleshy arms, no metal arms can still be prancing, advancing
With sloguns not shotguns be ye protesting and demanding.

Thus I really wonder if politicos politicking
really do make the world tick.
Or do they simply in many places cause
timebombs to parallel the clock's tick?

(ok cast d ballot n vote 4 me as funny presidential candidate
 of no-man's land ;
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Panagiota and Nursing School Memories

                Panagiota and The Autopsy


An autopsy, I found, educational to the max!
Those sacred, holy,human body parts, being 
removed part by part.
Weighed on a scale, as if in a large supermart?


Really, truly, after all our human snickering and
politicking?
Is this who we are, simply meat on a cold slab?
And tell me, please, who is going to pay the tab?


Where will my Muse be when I lie naked on a table?
I can't scream "help" as the knife slices me from 
neck to navel.
No trophies in this inglorious space and no POTD either.
No, poet friends, not in this inglorious stable.


There is no talk here of skin color nor of crucial racial matters.
For on that table,insides of all humans are of the same color, 
Simply at peace,lying in tatters, I shout, all all lives matter!!


It's surprising, I withstood all this, being a young student 
nurse and all.
It was September in Evanston, at Saint Francis Hopital
I shall never forget, that colorful, most memorable fall.


I never became a nurse,instead, fell deeply in love, truly,  
a far more romantic deal! 

We moved to San Francisco, where hills, deep love and 
with poetry, my heart forever, he did eternally steal!
And the Pacific Ocean transforming from shades of deep 
blues to  the most enchanting teals!


                         July 5, 2023
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member If You Pull a Long Face - Part Xxi

IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXI

IF you pull a long Moon face
Watching our Earth clad in sparse swirling white sarée
Her aqua-marine waters cuddling her reddish brown body-surface
The dazzlingly rare Pearl now throttled by deadly débris

If you then pull a long Other-Moon face
Rolling weightless in a space-ship bathed in thermo-dynamic ray
You turn your thoughts on the marvels of the man-made science race
And then give the credit to Our-Nation GOD  Is this really okay

Then if you pull a long bright Sunny face
And forget the reasons why this World of ours has gone astray
Man's inhumanity to Man  how warring nations destroy Nature's grace
Pollute the depths of oceans  cancer in the bowels  flora and fauna sans say

If you continue to pull a long self-satisfied face
In the name of the Lord for every national achievement His blessings pray
Then repeat non-sensical myths and rituals in His Honour according to race
Reduce the United Nations to hypocritical inner politicking yeah-say

Thus if you must pull a long-travestied face
All through the Ages on the dictates of your incontrovertible DNA
Seek by every economic ruse power of class and caste on skins of race
Sing not of the beauty of this rare Pearl decorating space Put the blame squarely on Divine Lila play

© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 20, 2019
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

We Are Victims

We are victims
Tied with  common fetters 
Loosed in thoughts of varied choices and desires
Loosely searching to make ends meet:
The meeting at this spot,
Either to go or stay, is a choice.

We are victims
Of the policies of pain
Emitted to drive us crazy, 
We are on the street , though not crazy.
Destroying our common patrimony. 
In futility, our sweat squeezed and 
Mixed with our hot blood,
Spilled on the street’
The rampage against the policies that police our lives.

We are victims 
Caught in the web 
Of a cruel nation
Piloted by scoundrels
The apostles of destruction
Who roused our emotions,
Taking the only broken cup 
Left for us to scoop 
The dirty water in the pond:
The beggar’s choice!
Out of pain, we have  heaped mud 
To cover the pond.
 
Yes, we are victims.
Our pain boldly inscribed on our skin
Our  thick skin, the archive of servitude .
And every effort to initiate freedom,
The beginning of futility.
  
We are  pushed to the wall,
The dog must bark.
While it barks, 
Its kennel is sacred.
Let us not destroy each other, our lots and more.
Let us not engage the street to loot, 
Though we remonstrate ,
Let’s not pull down our commonwealth,
The acreages of government,
They belong to us.
We are victims of a beautiful nation stressed with stench politicking.

The Shakahola Massacre

Be Not Afraid 
When God Says so
everything is  permitted
The genocide on screens 
was sanctioned from heaven 
800 acres 800 graves
In the name of God 
Their Journey was hastened 
The heavens were opened
"I saw visions of God."
Ezekiel was preaching

Be not Afraid 
The Government has faith 
The chief was ordained 
His cup was brimming 
A  man Of God
His blessings revealing  
Death permits signed 
The Heaven Resort was booming
The word of the Lord came to Ezekiel 
There the hand of the Lord was dirty 
The Gospel of McKenzie

Be not Afraid 
The Politicians are cracking 
The politics politicking 
And Justice is coming
The God Of Israel fighting for Kenya
The God of Kenyans  sacrificed for favour
The house of God is a Morgue
DP said it is something small
800 Dead, It's no big deal
The dead are home 
Each one went straight ahead
Wherever The spirit Goes They Go
McKenzie was Mediating 

Be not Afraid 
Shakahola will repeat 
When the systems are broken 
The saviours are needed 
When  St Peter is corrupted 
The devils do sneak In 
When  your God is Imported 
Prosperity is Gospel 
And those desperate in need 
Forget even Christ Lost faith
When the creatures moved
To the appearance of the likeness 
But is easier to forget 
Than pay the price of reality
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Speechless

Chaos and riots
Epidemics and wars
Confusion like tornado hurricane
Confinement, speechless, quiet, calm, rest and unspoken words 
However people are drowned in the sounds of nature
Rattle of the rain 
Whizzing of the wind
Rustling of the leaves
Wheedling of the birds 
Chirping of the crickets
Echoing in the caves, jungles and mountains 
Roaring of the sea
Murmuring of the stream
Buzzing of the bees
Hissing of the snake
Quacking of the ducks 
Mooing of the cows 
Woofing of the dogs 
Groaning of the sick
Wheezing of the lungs
Humming of a lullaby
Grumbling of the oldies 
Mourning of the dead
Sighing of the loser 
Applause of the winner
Any other voices may be drowned 
During this political, economic and epidemic crisis
Stay speechless ,calm and cool 
As the ushering in of the Chinese New Year
Looking forward to a better year
Only melodies but no blasting or booming 
Maybe some sounds buried in the wind
That's the voice of your heart
Stop violation, politicking, trafficking and hegemony
As the world
Is a part of everybody's legacy in a will
Although all along the world is speechless and unspoken

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