Political Poems

History repeats itself; first as tragedy, then as farce.
-- Karl Marx



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Poems about Politics
Poems about History


 Evening on the Harpeth River
and the golden chariot rolls on
to rule the nether world, trailing
stars that call a hawk to rest
high in a motionless elm. Violet
haze creeps across field grasses
as a brown mouse hurries forth
to search for berries that grow
along the bank. Stifling air
freshens and dew falls, a sweet
reprieve from grinding toil.
A coyote calls: night has come
in which to sleep, perchance to dream
of harmony among mankind.



 Slide me under a microscope
and record my imperfections,
then stuff me into a pigeonhole
under an outdated heading. 

Destroy the things I believe
and name them illusions
for the sake of your reality,
that I may learn to worship you. 

Make willing eunuchs and mental
pygmies of my children to create
the obedient army of your hideous
new world order dystopia. 

Ply me with chemical happiness,
the new kool-aid of your utopian
cult of fear, the classic Orwellian
cage of rats that you inhabit. 

You have spent too many years
at the feet of Nietzsche and Marx,
skulking in prestigious towers,
feeding on history's crimson swill. 

This cannot stand. Now nations draw
back on either side of the nuclear
abyss, fingers poised to begin the new
holocaust of your insane creation.



land of insubordination
lost in empty disputation
empires built on speculation
justice drowned by intrication 

families in disintegration
schools devoid of education
churches loving ostentation
poverty begets frustration 

lives of bitter desperation
hopeless in their situation
questing honest legislation
finding cold discrimination 

factions clash in confrontation
shouts of brash intimidation
taking sides across the nation
societal extermination 

war the ugly destination
blind to every implication
powers watch in consternation
nations plot retaliation 

weakened by degeneration
crumbles now the great foundation
far too late for extrication
soon will come obliteration

Submitted by Mollie Kindall from Pegram, TN
e-mail: molliemaek@gmail.com


Accept failures bravely,
Bestow love abundantly,
Convey ideas correctly,
Delete jealousy completely.

Eliminate problems wisely,
Face challenges boldly,
Guide friends properly,
Hurt no one intentionally.

Intensify goodness wholly,
Justify facts strongly,
Keep your mind openly,
Lend advise timely.

Mince words carefully,
Never help reluctantly,
Oust selfishness totally,
Peace will be there gradually!!!

Submitted by Gunam Rajaratnam
e-mail: rajaratnam_gunadevi@yahoo.co.uk


Whisper not to me of Xanadu, stately dome of Kubla Khan
Or those ageless warriors who brighten history's span,
I know of Omaha's grim beach and Iwojima's sands
The fallen always cherished and whose glory ever stands.

But I have heard of one fair land with places as sweet dreams
Of a fairyland of beauteous charm hewn from virgin realms,
Ah, savour Mavuradonna's heights and Chimanimani's peace
Oh land of sweet delight and true patriot's release.

T'is also said their strife was fair and noble was their cause
But honour with deceit was paid and almost without pause,
Scattered they were to far flung lands with little worldly gain
Save for that blessed hope that once their dear land may reclaim.

There is still the mystic silver thread that binds this gallant band
Of comradeship, travail and ah, the Regiment's last stand,
They say that hope still lies awake for some eternal hour
So tarry friend for thou mayest yet still smell such sweetest flower

© S. Weatherall, The Bard of Gatooma.
October 2006
(Gatooma was a small town in Rhodesia. It has a different name now - Kadoma)


 They continue the adamant
Repudiation of the wrap
Clothed in the insistence of denial
An image based on ocher.

 Presence of contamination
Impossible in the linen
The implication
That it is genuine after all.

 Inquest of skepticism
An abundance of data
That man is not living by
Distortions and marked tempera alone.

 Medieval mundane artist's rendition
Little more than desperation
So please pray tell
Where are the thousands more?

 © D.S. 2002

 -- Submitted by David Soriano from Bradford, PA
e-mail: soriano@pitt.edu


Problems always start
As persons all should now know
When doorways are open.

 Freedom and ideas
The rights of man also here
You know what I mean?

 Liberty never free
Always a ticket to buy
Where is the window?

© D.S. 2002

 -- Submitted by David Soriano from Bradford, PA
e-mail: soriano@pitt.edu


I had an awful vision of a ten horned beast
that shook the ground and rose from the east.
The kings of the earth stood and stared
as it devoured anything that got in its way.

All the armies prepared for war
not really sure what they would be fighting for.
Some people fled in horror and fear
searching for hiding places that were not there.

On top of this creature for all to see
was a woman dressed very regally,
and inscribed on the cup in her hand
were written the words "Mystery Babylon".

Suddenly a voice was heard to say
fall on your knees and begin to pray,
keep your spirituality exceedingly strong
and you will be saved in this Armageddon.

-- Submitted by Cedric Napti Walters from Atlanta, GA
e-mail: cedricnaptiwltrs@aol.com


Before the flag, I pledge allegiance,
While placing my hand upon my heart,
But today is no longer like before
As we watch our freedom falling apart.

No longer free to soar the skies of blue
Or leisurely walk to collect our mail.
Bombs now planted everywhere;
Where, oh, where, did our country fail?

Did we give to others way too much,
Depriving our people here at home?
Should we have just closed our eyes
To all the suffering; a poverty syndrome?

Industrial Revolution, the great need for oil,
Protecting our interest both here and abroad.
Send our soldiers to die in a war for the cause
But is it ourselves that we thus defraud?

We need our two and three cars apiece
And don't talk about any of us giving up ease.
So when it comes to our interests that we protect,
Could it be our greediness that we appease?

Go out and spend and don't save a penny,
For if you do, the economy will plunge;
So go out and buy that brand new car
And back into debt, for the economy, lunge.

Will the cycle go unbroken, each generation going to war
Or will in this world we learn someday to live as one?
Once again to feel free to soar the skies of blue
Without the fear of anyone foreign?

-- Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com


We will represent you, not resent you.
We will honour you, not dishonour you.
We will stand by you, not walk by you.
We will care for you, not share with you.
We will consult you, not insult you.
We will not be like you, though we'd like to.
We will do our best, not like the rest.
We will
We will
We will.

-- Submitted by Roger Stewart from Perth, Western Australia
e-mail: rojak1@bigpond .com


Can we begin to understand
The cry of the innocents in foreign lands
Or the anguish shared on our own soil
When death and destruction take its toll,
When peace interrupted is commonplace,
When retaliation occurs at a rapid pace?
"Vengeance is mine," saith the Lord,
But at the lamb the lion has roared,
Suicide missions perceived as valor,
Signs of compromise keep growing paler.
The guns, the bombs, the loss of lives--
Where is peace when no one survives?
Where is righteousness in each barren region?
Bands of rebels form separate legions.
Why can't leaders together agree?
Constant bloodshed does not make people free.
Why can't life be serene once more?
Case and desist the horrors of war!

 -- Submitted by Floriana Hall from Akron, Ohio
e-mail: Floriana102@aol.com


I am scared
of looking
straight into
your eyes;
I'm frightened
of what I will see.
I wouldn't dare
search for your
inner soul,
I'm terrified
of what there may be.
The world is changing,
so are we
Just wish the development
would turn and see,
The world needs love,
not a killing machine

 -- Submitted by Liv Astrid Bergsager from Haugesund, Norway
e-mail: livab@yahoo.com



And you say
"I am not responsible for any debts other than my own."

-- Submitted by Airen from Dallas, TX
e-mail: airen_69@hotmail.com


Where are you, hiding from the world?
After deeds done, to make hair curled,
In the name of religion, hatred was
Like some of your compatriots, you will
go down,
Dead or alive, the world will more than
When your place of concealment, is
finally blown,
And news of your capture, is known,
Until then, the way(s) or your demise,
are various,
But devising plans, are really quite
The favorite way, among some, is a
missle of sorts,
To travel an arc, and zero right in,
To whine its' coming, and go down your
And blow you away, like most of your
It won't free the world of terrorists,
but will cause,
Others of same ilk, who would have
reason to pause.

-- Submitted by Rudy Hoedel from Nanaimo, B.C., Canada


When our government conspires
With the monarchs and dictators,
Like a deer drowned by an alligator,
Hope of the public expires.
Flags of freedom fail to flutter,
Democracy melts like hot butter.
Certainty suffers, integrity abused.
Only the Devil amused.
Love sighs, Fraternity cries,
Equality is an extremist stand,
Justice is buried in the sand.
Humanity stretched like rubber band.
When our government conspires,
Injustice and vested interest aspire.
Our rights are flaunted and defaulted.
Truth is mocked and halted.
When our governments conspire,
Rights of the public expire.

-- Submitted by Asif Ahmed
from Birmingham, England, UK
e-mail: a.s.ahmed@bham.ac.uk


You won with your atrocities your fame.
Books proclaim your works, but not with glory.
You each, we do remember your great name.

Hitler, you your people did inflame.
You took your reign as king of the persecutory.
You won with your atrocities your fame.

That you weren't your brother's keeper was your claim.
Cain, we learned your curse from the Bible story.
Always we remember your great name.

If to some of you we gave a nickname,
"Jack the Ripper" all the same is accusatory.
You won with your atrocities your fame.

Bin Laden, you are too in the hall of shame.
Now to blame, you'll go below purgatory.
Absolutely we'll remember your name.

Relentlessly through history you came,
Each to play your bloody annihilatory game.
You won with your atrocities your fame,
But God, who sees, remembers each "great" name.

-- Submitted by Andrea Dietrich from Pleasant Grove, Utah
e-mail: Pandie55@hotmail.com


Strong, Caring, Free, Life, there's no doubt.
As an American that's what we're all about.
Sept. 11, 2001 they declared war on this day.
Now Americans will make them pay.

They've hurt us, they've caused us pain.
Americans won't stop until they know their name.
They tried to break our spirit, but they just made us strong.
Americans have strength and they were wrong.

Let us stand alongside one another.
Americans are sisters and brothers.
They have taken something from each of us.
Americans won't break, we're born to be tough.

The land of the free, the home of the brave.
Americans give, Americans save.
Let us bow our heads and begin to pray.
Americans, ask that those bad memories go away.

-- Submitted by Teresa Skyles from Tulsa, Oklahoma
e-mail: ratshare@swbell.net


Brutes, in name of God, to show their might,
fixed laws that you'd succomb, dumb, measly sheep.
Womankind, kind woman, rise and fight.

Serbian daughters once with smiles bright
Ravished by beasts whose skin with sin did seep.
Angels hovering nigh have you in sight.

A dutiful bride in India for something less than trite
Had fire set upon her as she lay in bed asleep.
Kind woman, womankind, your soul's in flight.

A Somalian child within a hut shrieks and huddles in fright.
To steal her "sensuality", they've come to cut her deep.
Angels from on high do hear your plight.

And nearer here's a wife (and all's not right),
Who, trembling, bruised, hushes her son not to weep.
Womankind, kind woman, comes the night. . .

Sisters, don't be wearied by the blight.
For what they sow, God's told us they shall reap.
Angels have prepared you robes of white.
Kind woman, womankind, hold tight your light.

-- Submitted by Andrea Dietrich from Pleasant Grove, Utah
e-mail: pandie55@hotmail.com


It is with great inspiration
That I compose this dedication
And call on a certain incarnation
Which should prove to be a sensation.

It is with great expatiation
That you compose inner commotion
And call on a certain reaction
Which should prove to be a connection.

With all that are exerting concentration
To the great words of my creation
Like wide-eyed sheep to destruction
You follow the pictures of my imagination.

And when you leave this exhibition
It will be with a need for contemplation
On my many words of idealisation
For a world with great skills of organisation.

But if you still have the inner voice of preservation
You will come to the realisation
That the meaning of my incantation
Is to create in you ... Frustration.

-- Submitted by Angelique T. Vermaak
from Empangeni, South Africa
e-mail: mwfenton@iafrica.com


In times past and now forgotten
When honesty ruled supreme,
Before some men with hearts rotten
Deposed those worth our esteem,
The world was free of speculation
And there was no talk of inflation.

But then a band of cunning thieves
With lying tongues and souls of greed,
And many tricks up their sleeves,
A simple plan their minds conceived
To bring the world into subjugation,
Requiring only guile and dedication.

The first step was to begin the trade
Of lending money and holding sure
The wealth that folk, through work, had made;
With "interest" as bait they'd allure
Their naive victims into their den,
And this hold true now as did then.

Once the money was in their hands
They used it for their own end,
And would take the poor peoples' land
As payment for the money they lend;
It didn't take long for them to hold
In their vaults other people's gold.

Their eyes were set on bigger things ...
With this wealth they began to bend
The judgement of princes and kings
Who were in need of funds to spend
In projects that they thought were best
To safeguard their kingdoms' interests.

From lending to individuals,
Then to kings extend their usury,
They soon became multinationals
Controlling the world's treasury.
They rule supreme and over all
The peoples and their capital.

Power hungry, they'll dash to pieces
All who speak against their clan;
While their heartless greed increases
Their victims survive as best they can
Eating scraps from their table,
And true freedom remains a fable.

So until all control returns
To the leaders of each nation,
In whom the spirit of truth burns,
We are saddled with inflation
And our children will never be
Masters of their own destiny.

-- Submitted by A V Fenton from Empangeni, South Africa
e-mail: mwfenton@iafrica.com


The despair and desolation engulf our hidden emotions
Like an ebb tide in the sea -
And keep our lives afloat in troubled waters
By turning around the happiness key!

The dawn of civilization has been a key witness
To such turbulence since the histories of the past -
And brings the memoirs still today, for continuity in next millennium
But that may not be the last!

Worse holocausts and bloody wars of the twentieth century
Depict the inhumanity and abuse of brutal force -
While walking down the memory lanes to remind our despair,
Next to paving new millennium's only course!

But suddenly the expectation of a glorious awakening
Now tickles my brain with a "civil sense" of mass -
To honor the dawn of the new millennium as the holy gate
Through which the nobility has to really pass!

Restrictive power comes from the imposition of laws
That pretends to robotize the present mankind -
And creates an anguish through the disappearance of "devotional love"
That does not put us in a bind!

The true soul of man should be the product of education and freedom,
Instead of the restrictive claws -
To enable the rapid progress in the next millennium,
And eliminate the visible pasts' damaging "flaws"!

Now, democracy, lost to money grabber politicians, has created
A reign of corruption over so many lands -
While the strong political power moves only among the cronies
With time via a 'mutual' shaking of hands!

The fruits of such transfers of power leave nothing but the bitterness
In the mouths of the million factions -
And are now sobbing for the meritocracy in the next millennium
In lieu of the democracy's selfish actions!

At present, I dream to see piling of fraternity, freedom,
And humanity from the past millenniums to the new -
And build a bridge of love and fellowship to promote human rights
For the forthcoming generations to view!

Surely the task is not easy and will need engraved emotions
As the building block buried in each soul around the Earth -
But still we can explore possibility through amalgam of millenniums' ideas
Drenched with brutality, sacrifice and mirth!

-- Submitted by Hillol Ray from Garland, Texas
e-mail: mukhosh@aol.com


Bureaucrat is just a word for someone who is slow,
The sweat that trickles down his nose is probably just for show;

Working hard's against the rules, ...accomplishments... forbid!!
If you're the guy that wants to work, of you they'll soon get rid;

Slacker, sleeper, lazy bum ... and these are just a few,
Accomplishments that you can earn, do you now have a clue?

"Work hard", they say vocally, but just what do they mean?
The time that you're allowed to work is only when you're seen;

Be here by nine and home by two, I know it's very hard,
To work between the many breaks, you useless piece of lard;

What's that? I said a naughty word, not politically correct,
I better change that word right now, your psyche might be wrecked;

The words I choose instead of lard will not be fat or plump,
The phrase I think I'll choose for you is the "Equine Challenged Rump";

In time, no doubt, this simple phrase might seem a little dumb,
So here it is just plain and clear, you are a horse's bum.

-- Submitted by E. Ralph Fallentine from West Valley City, Utah
e-mail: pipesurgeon1@juno.com


I am the woman who was sacrificed
For an unworthy cause by those who decide:
'This one shall not live'.
I walk alone -

I am the woman whose face is known
Whose thoughts must not be spoken
Judged by those who decide:
'She must be broken'.
I have been shamed -

I am the woman who was defamed.
They have created through lies and inventions
A network of spies who distort my intentions.
They have tortured and robbed me of my peace

I am the woman they have brought to her knees.
For their own selfish reasons I have been reviled
By those who decide:
'She shall not have her child'.
I am the woman without a life -

They've decided for me:
'She shall not be a wife'.
I am the woman who is made to pay
Unspeakable horror each night and each day.
Yet, I'll never know the reason why -

But, I won't cry, and I will not die
I will persevere and go on without fear.
I do not know if there will be another Spring
But I know that all my praises I will sing
To Him and Him alone who owns my soul

Therefore I will be consoled.
But I am old, and I am cold
I do not know if there will be another day -
But no one has the right to make me go
I am here to stay.

-- Submitted by Sigrid Castaldo from Flushing, Queens, NY
e-mail: Musigg@aol.com




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