Witch Hunt Poems - Poems about Witch Hunt

How Wiccans acquired a bad rep is not clear. Misogynist bullies afraid of these women’s light, A young teen with an ugly heart of jealous fear, Might point a finger under cover of night. But in Salem Massachusetts, hysteria came about. When accusations were made by the ugly and stout. Possibly made by men who had a plain mean daughter. Wanting to...

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Crumpling Paper By J.R.Wren Caw, Caw, the voice is rusty and the fry will always be true The crows don’t know a suit, a camera, nor a comma splice War Machine MSNBC has messy hair and forgot to tie their shoe Tariff money, the farmer’s due, and the Tycoon’s not calling it “nice.” “Don’t tell them that story yet; they won’t...

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“Now listen to Nanny, while the nurse gives you a shot. I’ll tie your hands fast, so you can’t throw a swing. Potion injected will tend to burn hot. Like and consider all people. And now go into the ring.” “Would you like to come and stay at my neighbor’s house? Partake of his food and sleep in his bed? You...

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The Senate’s That Way By J.R. Wren To this lens say this, to that mic say that In the hall smile big, but scowl on the floor Gold rings and tie bling, look to the big cat Appear to work hard. None see, “Hit the door!” “Remove the Tycoon, as soon as you can.” Crumpling paper will make good news of fray “The...

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“Deep, deep, deep. Listen and hear our faint gait. Sanitation, fluorescent lights, and a PC pillow for smother. Agree! Agree! Atone! Suck it in and suff-o-cate. White-ness. Black. Ev’ry creed, faith, and color. Listen to Nanny State and call her your mother.” A wilting flower and grass that’s mowed Are ever learning why the wilt and why the harm Innovation, creativity,...

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Blue Light Bulbs and a Bottle of Bleach and The Incandescent Must Win (part 1) By: J.R. Wren A wilting flower and a blade of grass No presumptions of the way things ought to be Feeding plenty on light through a tinted glass Patiently waiting and resting in what it means to be free “Steal, Steal, Steal. Make it up...

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There was an old lady, a frumpy old bag who people called horrid, a witch and a hag And 'though she was ugly and danced 'mid moonbeams all was not quite as it might've then seemed Old-fashioned black clothing made her look quite strange townies deemed her morbid- “dangerous, deranged” But she wore these odd rags, so dismal, dark, drear for fashion...

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Passing the Moon Flies the wicked witch Over the White House Squatting on broom stick Casting a spell Vigorously stirs the pot Abracadabra Collusion it's not Behind bars Disciples pay the price For the love of money They are the sacrifice In this witch hunt Circulating Capitol Hill It's the Salem trials All over again...

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pure and innocent was the founding not a witch, death outstanding family relief at sister’s drowning Rhyme - Whimsical Fantasy Contest: 3 Lines Writing Challenge Oct 2018 Written 10-28-2018 Sponsor: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings...

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••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Forego thy demons, none would be found here Such guile belies the pleasure of the young Until thy trials should rise of fact, not fear, so will thy measure see the pious hung ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 06/08/2018...

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They’ve all brought their picks, hoes, shovels and spades, Ready to dig a new hole, And dig everywhere, no thought for what’s right, No thought for the truth they’ve been told, About lies that were uttered, about not fitting in, About her lie to make her belong, To the idea of being part of what she believed, Even...

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Witch Hunt We Will Go On a witch hunt we all will go; On another and another did go; Looked over there; Then everywhere; Had found Trump and told you so. Jim Horn...

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Come now, this story is one to tell everyone, Come now, bring a handkerchief, you may just cry. Somewhere far away, a city stained by the sun, A witch lived in this town, and she loved a prince, oh my… “I don’t need a magic to stop the clock, No spell can achieve what I feel....

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so i guess im a witch well thats all okay cuz you never will catch me anyway for i fade into mist and i slide past your fists with my magical twists do i even exist? cuz i escape your grasp with a single little clasp of a tiny little glass holding potions made of grass i will fade into the night with a...

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since may 2010, before any kind of trial at all has taken place, bradley manning rots in solitary confinement, “being denied exercise, any kind of social interaction & sunlight” as well as often “being kept completely naked” clearly undergoing what some have rightly called torture--- julian assange’s life is threatened on a daily basis & if no one kills him before he...

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