Long Read my lips Poems
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Here's a little trip
down Presidential elections'
Memory Lane
where the slogans of yesteryear
may seem rather inane
Give 'em Hell, Harry, but Dewey or don't we (1948 Truman vs. Dewey)
All the way with Adlai, but I like Ike (1952 Stevenson vs. Eisenhower)
Experience counts, but we can't stand Pat (1960 Kennedy vs. Nixon)
In your heart, you know he's right (1964 Goldwater vs.
In your guts, you know he's nuts Johnson)
Come Home, America: Acid, Amnesty
and Abortion for All (1972 McGovern vs. Nixon)
Why not the Best --- Not just Peanuts (1976 Carter vs. Ford)
Good Morning America; just Trust Me (1980 Reagan vs. Carter)
Keep Hope Alive; (1988 Jesse Jackson, Sr. vs.
Read My Lips, No New Taxes George H.W. Bush, Sr.)
Putting People First, and
Down with King George George (1992 Bill Clinton vs. Bush, Sr.)
Compassionate Conservatism, but (2000 Al Gore vs.
Prosperity and Progress George W. Bush, Jr.)
Change we can believe in, though Country First (2008 Obama vs. McCain)
Make America Great Again, yet Love Trumps Hate (Trump vs. Clinton)
Some of theses were pretty good
Others were just awful
Whether they moved us or not
At least they were lawful
Read the room and wind your scrawny neck in, Mr Putin
Mark my words, the West are gonna stick their size ten boot in
No-one here has fallen for your good-for-nothing plan
So pop your pacifier in and get back in your pram
Heed the world, the Bulldog and the mighty Uncle Sam
We’ve seen through your bravado, it’s all arrogance and sham
You brag about your weaponry to stifle our rebukes
But you won’t get your way by simply mentioning your nukes
For that's some twisted logic just to get what you desire
When if you blow the place apart and set its bones on fire
The only prize that you will win, as far as I can see
Is a massive crater where your hopes once used to be
There’s bullets with your name on, any one could leave you dead
Should a sniper plant one in the middle of your head
Perhaps a comrade soon will smear your door knob in the night
But read my lips you cretin, it ain’t gonna be Marmite
There is another option that you could attempt of course
Which is whipping off your shirt and then cavorting on a horse
You tried that once before and looked a proper numpty then
I have to say you’re looking like a numpty once again
'Tis well known that politicians have a congenital proclivity,
For concocting inane babble with audacious creativity!
The nuances that they spin and the postures they assume,
No doubt leave poor Mister Webster spinning in his tomb!
A very lame cliche is, "My words were taken out of context!"
(Didn't we grasp his original view? We are left a bit perplexed!)
"The jury will acquit me!" he said, bidding his peers farewell!
"I never stole public funds!" he asserted from his cell!
"A vast right wing conspiracy is out to get us!" she screamed!
(When things went awry on the shenanigans that they schemed!?
"But, I did not inhale!" he averred looking us dead in the eye!
"It depends on the definition of "is", was his equivocal reply!
"I voted to fund the war, but folks, that's not what I meant!"
(With that wily circumvention, he created considerable dissent!)
He proclaimed, "No American boys will fight in foreign wars!"
(Alas, thousands died in World War Two storming alien shores!)
"Read my lips! No more taxes!" he gravely guaranteed!
Most are heard to say, "I'll never steal, lie or mislead!"
Some gullible souls are charmed by what they postulate;
Please spare me, Lord! I tire of hearing politicians bloviate!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Read my lips,” Bush One said —
You listened close and voted Red.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“It’s the economy, stupid,” Clinton blew —
You bought the line and voted Blue.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Compassionate Conservative,” G.W. pled —
Sounded nice, so you voted Red.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Hope and Change,” Obama’s cue —
The pitch was strong, so you voted Blue.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“MAGA, MAGA!” Trump had said —
No better slogan, so you voted Red.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
“Build Back Better” was Joe’s view —
Sounded smart, so you voted Blue.
Taxes rose, spending too —
How’s that working out for you?
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
We vote Red, then we vote Blue —
Neither side knows what to do.
Then back to Blue, then Red again —
Why beat a horse that’s long been dead?
Right then Left, then Left then Right —
All they do is brawl and fight.
Line their pockets, make another run —
Holding office sure looks fun.
But We the People hold the key —
It's time to change the strategy.
No more Right on Red or Left on Blue —
Vote Independent — break on through.
Doing the same, expecting new —
Insanity's logic just won’t do.
The two-party game is broken, corrupt —
Time for the people to rise — and disrupt.
You couldn’t see the forest for the trees,
Just another microbe in America’s disease.
You’ve got to see the forest through the trees —
You’ve got to be the cure for America’s disease.
I'm not a formal poet,
no wordsmith of form or pattern.
I'm just a man in love
who likes to paint with words,
polishing lines into a flower verse.
These words are not carved in stone,
nor gold, tried by fire.
They're just free verse,
an expression of my love for you,
Imabong, my dearest.
I know you love to read my lips
when I whisper sweet nothing.
They're a soft melody, a rose
in your hair, a simple gift
of unflinching devotion.
These are the small things we do
to make love blossom.
I remember our walk
across those Californian skies,
how we flew like birds.
We painted that summer red,
our bodies tanned,
beaten by stripes of the sun
Every night we slept like dead logs,
exhausted from a day of
five-star feasting.
Yes, that was when love was young,
exuberant, a juvenile delinquent.
We ran half-naked on the beach,
clubbing every Friday night.
We drank until we were numb,
smoked cigarettes,
and woke up hungover on Saturday mornings.
We lived on a diet of junk food:
hamburgers, shawarmas, ice cream—
whatever we craved, we ate.
But I knew such wild life fades with time.
Those moments of madness we enjoyed,
pass away with age.
Now, at sixty-five, doctors warn,
"Watch your blood pressure.
Don't eat this, don't eat that."
Yet my heart still pounds.
When our grandchildren race off to school,
their parents chasing money
across the city,
I sit alone, but never lonely.
with the ghost of years past,
the memories of our love,
rocking in this chair,
humming old school songs to myself
MY VOICE OF LOVE
FREE VERSE
I beg of you listen to me
Listen to my voice of love
Don' t be misled, don't be confused
Love will come out of the blue.
When I look at you and wink my eyes
That's the voice of my love
When I smile, read my lips, that’s the voice of my love
When I touch your fingers, that's another voice of my love.
The light gentle wind is the voice of my love
The tweeting and chirping of the birds
is also the voice of my love
The sea breeze is the voice of my love.
The buzzing of the bees sipping the nectar of the flowers
The impression conveyed is the voice of my love.
Every color of the rainbow depicts the voice of my love
The rain that falls, signifies the voice of my love.
Everything that moves around you
portrays the voice of my love
Because my love is in the air
Touching your beautiful face and hair.
Can you read my lips?
My Sweet, keep it simple, still.
Can you read my arms?
To hold you, I’m going six feet under the ground.
Can you read my mind?
My girl- title is a lot for you,now the train is gone.
Can you read my hand?
So much for you are my tiniest finger, pointer and thumb.
Can you read and feel my heart?
From E to Y, for you it jumps and pumps.
Can you hear and feel me?
Satellite isn’t ahead of my fervor mental telepathy.
Can you really hear me?
If everything in me is mute on this Valentines Day?
If I’m mute and you’re blind,
Touch me, feel all my codes and you’ll find.
Sweetheart, have a Very Happy Valentines
I’m all yours today ‘til the end of time.
©2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Feb. 14, 2016 8.20pm
The Panders have come to the Washington Zoo.
They’ve got much to say, but near none of it’s true.
Those cute little panderers, both black and white,
make appeals to the left and concede to the right.
They’ll give you down payments and not tax your tips.
Like the Bush lied to Moses and said, “Read my lips!”
They can’t help their lies or the oaths they are takin’,
Such a cute little orange one, and the cuddly Jamaican.
The border, evictions, and the free car loans of course;
I could go on for stanzas, not to beat a dead horse.
“The end of democracy!” if you don’t vote;
they’ll promise a shirt while they’re taking your coat.
Yes, the Panders have come to the Washington Zoo,
tossing nuts through the bars to me and to you.
playground politics
we zap and zip
read my lips
we hide and seek
from teacher's peek
on swings
we wing
on slides
we cried
marbles play
swords we flay
should i repeat
another beat
marbles play
swords we flay
never mind
what we find
king of the hill
jack and jill
story told
she was very bold
jill rode jack
on his back
right over there
under the stairs
we peered
like deer
we all hushed
behind a bush
it was all an act
that was a fact
two bunnies
rubbing tummies
that was it
don't have a fit
we are kids
yes we did
run the playground
round and round
dodge a ball
hide behind a wall
scrape a knees
fall on a bee
hide behind fatty
flirt with patty
hide a corner
there's a loner
hop scotch here
volleyball there
shoot some hoops
assemble troops
we are kids
yes we did
run the playground
round and round
yet get this
gee whiz
stars and stripes borne
teachers scorn
now they come out
to shout
their eyes
and voices chastise
what fools
no praying, too
we cuss
and fuss
we play
our way
yet they dread
if we bow our heads
is this
not preposterous
all i know politics seed
its ugly face bred
3/26/17-No rose again Note-Cyndi wrote in her critique (and I laugh at her) that it is demeaning to describe a child as fatty. Please. Can someone direct her and maybe the judges, too, to playground politics, anti bullying and the world that some of these kids face. It's called reality.Yes, they face this kind of ridicule everyday. It is sad. Yet would it be better to write a bunch of brown nose crap just to be politically correct? No. I just write what I see and feel, more of the pulse. No facade. And especially no artificiality that some here like to swim in.
I’m bleeding from the outside in
like a cup I’m filled to the brim
but I’m not bleeding blood, I’m bleeding gasoline
just so I can light a fire inside of me
my eyes are closed, I’m breathing heavily
lost inside, I’m paralyzed, am I ready
read my lips these will be my last words
they’ll be tattooed on your heart as third degree burns
leave the room, make sure you lock the door
I don’t want you to see me like this anymore
turn the heat up and walk away
write down every last word you've heard me say
“he who is drowned, is not bothered by the rain.”
Bellowed the last lamb the wolf hath slain
“The lamb, the hero.” the wolf cried to god
and etched the lamb’s final words into a heart of sod