When I was young I was politically correct
So I know what it means
To hate my flag and country,
The corporations, polluters and rulers.
But then I grew to see the world on my own
Freed from the peer pressures to conform
And started to see what there was to love
Instead of hate.
To see it all from the perspective of history
With a little gratitude
For what it is, and took to gain,
Warts and all.
Warts and all,
Somehow I never knew
Would appear so cool
From the other side.
(10/16/25)
“politically correct”
i’m fat and a registered voter
Yeoman throw
On another
Cigarette to
Fuel the
Fire
Yeoman
Throw on
Another
Cigarette
To fuel
The fire
Yoe
Man E
Throw R
On an i
Other F
Cig e
Arette h
to t
F U E L
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 once wore.
Today costumes must have the vanilla approval by the
Halloween Correct.Police.
Don't even dare give out candy.just zucchini and carrots galore.
In the USA at least, Halloween has been fleeced.
I still have pictures of me in those beautiful great costumes.
How heartbroken I am to see more and more freedom go.
We were happy in God's sky as colorful balloons.
Those days gone and replaced by the Halloween Political Correction
Show.
10-24-2020
Poem# 3
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 day.
They took his time,
They heard his words,
They cheered him on,
all…
from the bleachers.
The little church on the corner,
is very quiet.
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 and anointed.
I am...
O bfuscation to beguile;
R emorseless as the tears of a crocodile;
R estriction of dissenting voices.
I am the
E rosion of your rights and choices.
I am...
C ontrol---for utopian bliss;
I am
T yranny's vampire kiss.
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 society
where correct
is unfortunately
woefully false….
You come into my house and try to cram political correctness down my throat.
I'm sick and tired of hearing you run your big mouth, you're on a sinking boat.
You try to tell me how to talk and how to believe.
You're not welcome in my house, you'd better leave.
You won't force your views on me.
You say that my lifestyle is wrong but I don't agree.
You continue to run your mouth and you refuse to stop.
You're refusing to leave so now I'm going to call the cops.
When I put you in jail, you certainly won't be missed.
You call yourself politically correct but I call you a fascist.
SONNET FOR THE POLITICALLY CORRECT
[There is a history of the world, parallel with that which we know - or is it?]
Then Horatius slew no foes to defend the bridge
But invited Lars Porsena across for tea and crumpets
With our English dead did we not close up the breach
Nor storm the wall to sound of drums and trumpets
No promise of toil, tears, and sweat was made, but in lieu
One of handouts entitlements, counselling and free contraceptives
Our spokesmen were exhorted to tolerate every view
No 'evil empire' was confronted, with robust invective
We submitted to dependence, delusion and wishful thinking
In that parallel world of sweetness, light and no villainy
On a gradual slippery slope not aware we were sinking
In a slow subtle deluge of utopian soft tyranny
A servile decaying world we inherit if we neglect
The fight for freedom, but embrace the politically correct
Ever notice silly signs some businesses put up?
Like braille upon the restroom door and drive through banks fixed up,
In case a blind man happens by driving his brand new car,
And wants to use the ATM, they've gone a little far.
How can they read the braille if the way they cannot see?
If driving they use dog or cane or wrap around a tree.
I never saw a blind man drive or inch along a wall,
Looking for a restroom sign in restraunt, bar or mall;
And what's up with these crazy laws they're passing now I see?
A misdemeanor gets you jailed while criminals walk free.
I'm telling you the times have changed, things ain't the way they was.
Folks used to smile and show respect but not no more becuz,
They don't know where you're coming from, they don't know where you've been.
Right is wrong and wrong is right, they're trying to blend in.
I'm tired of trying to blend in, stand in my own defense.
Why can't the laws be like before and show some common sense.
Be Politically Correct
We always have to be politically correct
And then also should be able to connect
Religion with way they are now giving
What they prefer and their way of living.
It had consisted of at least two scenes
Second was where they killed Marines
Who were in plain view and not hidden
Of all their enemies tried to be ridden.
Never know what was going on anymore
Things had happened behind closed door
By them committed and had been done
Actual action was performed with a gun.
Gun control appears to be answer to me
Here in our great America land of the free
Where really what will be our primary goal
That is to protect and save our every soul.
This is what it is all about.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
THE POLITICALLY CORRECT POSTCARD
One picture is worth a thousand words
(And a flower is worth a whole lot more).
This was the import of the card you sent me,
Flu-eyed, runny nose and a sore
Throat. I was to dismiss, on the merit
Of sexism, the Sistine chapel decoration
Botticelli’s Primavera, so disinherit
The mighty Logos and God’s peroration -
Giving the kiss of life to a still-born cliché,
Gaybo playing his theme, with the wonderful score
In the sub-ed’s office with the copy-boy’s roar.
A photo-opportunity for the Amazon dee-jay,
Who rules the world with a golden rod -
Offer a handkerchief to the offended eye of God.
from IN MEMORY OF HER 2008
POLITICALLY CORRECT
Ever notice silly signs,
Some businesses put up?
Like braille upon the restroom door,
And drive through banks fixed up,
In case a blind man happens by,
Driving his brand new car,
And wants to use the ATM,
They've gone a little far.
How can they read the braille,
If the way they cannot see?
If driving they use dog or cane,
Or wrap around a tree.
I never saw a blind man drive,
Or inch along a wall,
Looking for a restroom sign,
In restraunt, bar or mall;
And what's up with these crazy laws,
They're passing now, I see?
A misdemeanor gets you jailed,
While criminals walk free.
I'm telling you the times have changed,
Things ain't the way they was.
Folks used to smile and show respect,
But not no more becuz,
They don't know where you're comin' from,
They don't know where you've been,
Right is wrong and wrong is right,
They're trying to blend in.
I'm tired of trying to blend in,
Stand in my own defense,
Why can't the laws be like before,
And just use common sense?
Judy Ball
Politically correct I’m not; if you seek precision you ought,
find the time, to define the rhyme of perfection
in words you’ve sought.
A simplicity of words I am; I do not write for status or glam,
I pen my mind, whether thoughts callous or kind,
truthfulness you’ll find.
Paper is more powerful for me, not keystrokes of a PC you see,
a pen in hand, is more commanding and grand,
when writing on demand.
Following the norm is *****; I allow the pen and paper to steer,
a symphony of life, thru every memory and strife,
of a mother, daughter and wife.
Technological progress I dread, only because the pen is now dead,
so take heed in my words, though seemingly absurd,
but a poetic pen should always be heard.
I'm not politically correct at all.
I find such terms as black, asian or white
just as offensive as any racist term used by any racist in hateful delight.
All such terms, good or bad, only serve to strongly reinforce
the differences of one humanity worldwide across.
I mark "Other" on poll forms whenever asked my race of origin,
and if I must write it out I simply print, "*****sapien."
Country of origin (Where you were born)
I suggest we replace race origins with the above on all the poll forms.
Despite how much we look so differently, why can't we all embrace
the fact that we're all the very same specie?
The One And Only Same Human Race.
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