Politically Poems - Poems about Politically

A word or two about my view of the politicians we presumably put in positions of power hobbyists bought and paid for under the table catering to manipulating lobbyists by the hour where saying nothing yet flapping their gums offending no one when sitting on the fence doing naught but wagging their tongues and all the while protesting their innocence dodging the bullet...

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The next four years will improve our health And lower taxes and increase our wealth. All we have to do is dump All our ills on Donald Trump. During his first campaign, he said he could fix everything by himself. ...

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Answer my call to arms patriots all and rise up with blunt collateral force - rage against the culture wars that we stall the Neo-Left tyranny at its source. Return fire on who rephrase and revise - rage and be politically direct! On these New Age wingnuts upon them rise, rise up till no...

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I do not understand politics, I realise I never will My interest, I'm ashamed to say It is virtually nil. But... At the moment, I am feeling somewhat fraught Some politicians who are in power today They need to do what they ought. They should abide by the law, And practice this in court. But some do not understand the law, Or they need to remember what...

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“politically correct” i’m fat and a registered voter...

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Alexandra Tolstoy, lost it all, the bamks just Threw her to the wall, held her funds Locked her out, her fault? Her Russian husbannd no doubt.! Although he'd left for many years she took The hit, expetienced fear; according to some Info held she lived in Monaco sone records did Tell, sh'ed visited twice..is domiciled U K, her Absent man had alimony...

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Politically Incorrect When I was young I worked hard labor So I could liberally Spend my money On good times and beer Now I conservatively estimate In a short time I’ll no longer be here...

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Yeoman throw On another Cigarette to Fuel the Fire Yeoman Throw on Another Cigarette To fuel The fire Yoe Man E Throw...

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I reminisce I miss You capture me by the heart seduce my soul And feverishly make love to my mind I did not know the impact of your passion...your vision I am soothed by your presence And long for the charismatic chemistry found Only with one's significant other Strong and steady like a mountain breeze Up close and even from a distance I see...

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Indeed, I was the Queen of my Halloween Past, Think of Halloween, the day any of us could be whomever we wanted to be. Somehow that freedom has been ripped from our .... children's innocent hands so fast. Halloween is now political, a PC, Monstrosity, I do not wish to see. I don't even have to mention the costumes, I...

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Shouting at their profit clouds I have been on the left all my life Our leaders war in Vietnam inspired me As a young man, facing conscription Then Labor was elected and saved me from jail Or killing people I did not know For reasons unfathomable To my young mind I was too young to vote But went to Labor Or rather its left And...

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The little church on the corner, was very quiet. Their pastor died today, and went to heaven. He went to see the Master, And tell Him all… The little church, and the quiet, pastor-preacher, were burned to the ground, but first shot, in front of witnesses. Sadly, no one mourned, They were all afraid. He told them, of the King, They showed up, every...

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I am... P oliteness overdone; O ffense over everything and everyone; L iberation---in a box. I am I nversely orthodox. I am... T ruth (as defined by me); I ntolerance of those who dare to disagree; C ritical but not constructive. I am A bstract and unproductive. I am... L ogic in a loop; L abels to create a thousand factious groups; Y outhful idealism exploited. I am C onceited...

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The Oracle spoke in tongues Of crisscrossed words reversed in a pattern Percolated in the minds to be given to lungs Then tossed to the winds like a light to the lantern Giving out hope for each to carry out A new day that torched in their voices While the words that did sway and melted all doubt Meant all they could...

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Young people today seem afraid to be alone with their thoughts... needing faces and twits to distract or else fits... fearing to write without spell-check or a grammar that links needing to dress-up in garish array what past generations early-on knew stinks I think, spontaneity is more telling of the good we are, and of our lack and loss— today revealing a modern...

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