So Putin helps Trump win an election
And subsequently feels elated.
He is still anticipating
How he will be compensated.
Who are the ones who cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap?

Watching the Trump administration
Blame and distrust the FBI
Also tickles Putin as Trump
Makes it a target to vilify.
Watch Putin cheer and clap
As he takes a victory lap.

When Trump says he doesn't believe
Our intelligence agents here
But eagerly accepts whatever
Putin tells him, one thing's clear:
Trump is willing to cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap.

When Russia starts a conspiracy theory
And blames Ukraine for election meddling,
Many Trumplicans here believe
The devious lies that the Kremlin is peddling.
How can Americans cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap?

When Trump speaks with the president
Of Ukraine and crudely tries to extort
Favors from the Ukrainians
And threatens to pull U.S. support,
Putin supporters cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap.

As here we see a chilling loss
Of democratic values, we
Will ask ourselves whatever happened
To hope and opportunity.
Who then will cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap?

-by Bob B (12-12-19)

Another scar to bear
And another pain inside.
Nothing for you to see,
It's hidden behind my eyes,
But I do hurt, and myself I revile,
After these long months of living as a friend.

Victory, Victory, Victoria
So this is what's become of us.
Another scar,
Something my words did not intend,
Neither of us safe from their path.
We both played our part precise,
We, the engineers of our own demise.

You, with waiting to play your cards,
Unfortunately you played it too close, you played too far.
How long is a guy supposed to wait
Before he wises up,
Before he realizes he will not catch the bait?
You tell a guy just want to be friends, twice,
And you know what, he thinks he gets the point.
You built your walls up too high
To try and prevent a painful ending,
And instead we never got to start.

Victory, Victory, Victoria
So this is what's become of us.
Another scar,
Something my words did not intend,
With neither of us safe from their path.
We both played our parts precise,
We, the engineers of our own demise.

It seems as if I paint it all your fault
But we both played our parts.
I waited patient and tried to be
The best friend and what I thought you needed,
And when you mentioned your friend
Thought I was an "interest"ing guy,
I walked into it with my head held high
And both eyes staring open wide,
Refusing to let myself see
What you really did mean.

Victory, in honesty, I could only wait so long, hating to be alone,
And Victory, in honesty, I never thought I'd be singing this song,
Victoria, as things wound and rewrapped themselves
So quickly after I picked out a new course.

And to you again, how long do you
Expect a guy to sit tight and wait?
It's a lonely life to watch a girl live life
Until she finds she is ready to date.
And as for the poems you quoted at me,
Only one was written about the new "she".
If only you'd taken the time to see what
The upload date would surely tell you,
A different story on who the subject
Of that second poem was,
Of who I wrote that other poem for -
Or maybe you prefer now not to know
So neither of us has more reason to hurt
Beyond the fact that
I never showed you that poem.

So Victory, Victory, Victoria
This is what's to become of us.
Yet another scar to bear,
Something from my words I never did intend,
With neither of us safe from their path.
We, the players, acting our parts precise,
We, the engineers, the designers of our own demise.

The God of War sat upon his throne
In a wing of the Olympus palace
Under the sun his bloodied-eyes shone
Setting atremble his servants, Discord and Malice.

The wars below, as he viewed
Were hard fought and stalemates, it seemed
He sighed and spat, quite bemused
Why could no winner be deemed?

His bed of flesh from enemies gone
He rested within its dermal folds
The howl of the dying, singing its song
As Apollo’s chariot grew far and cold.

The roaring clamor of vicious scandal
Woke him from a bloodlight dream
And he looked below at victim and vandal
Appalled at the disastrous scene.

And Now, with Eos rise to morn
As the dew mixed with blood and sweat
Discord arrived to comfort her lord
Her company he did not regret.

“You have seen my battles
Look now below and explain
Mankind has become brainless as cattle
Look how they are, vile and maimed,”

“Milord, I see,” she spoke with grace
And her eyes did glint with fire
“Perhaps if you showed another face
The battle would be what you desire.”

And though her words were softly spoken
The answer they did present
And Great God Mars felt, at once, heartbroken
A message had to be sent.

Mercury, the winged messenger
With winged sandals and helmet
Arrived to be the harbinger
And was told to fly beyond the sunset.

“Beyond the sun and stars
There is a palace where a woman sits
Tell her that our Lord, God Mars
Invites her here, if she permits.”

Discord and Malice saw him off
And sweet Hermes, how he did fly
For the sound of war was not far-off
And nightly he heard people die.

The palace beyond the heavenly sky
Was one of silky web and silver
And within its courtyards did lie
A splendid woman that made him quiver.

This woman was Lady Nike
The very Goddess of Victory
Sister to Strength, Force and Rivalry
Who had fought the Titans in day old Glory.

The fair-ankled Nike heard the message
And smiled a fair, rosey smile
“Tell your lord that if he has the courage
to come and woo me here in my exile.”

When Ares heard this, he maddened with rage
and tore through Olympus with sword
and threw rocks down on the world stage
and sent hiding the servants, Malice and Discord.

Soon after saw Mars chariot race
Flying twice the pace of the sun
passing Mycenae and Athens face
to where the wooing would be done.

Aphrodite flew at his side
“God of War you’ll need  Beauty to aid
in wooing the Victory that hides away.”
The God of War grew weary and sore
and by the time he arrived at Nike’s door
his mood had taken a turn for the worse
and he muttered colorful curse.

Lady Nike was patiently waiting
For Victory is always calm
Her soft white dress billowing, baiting
An almond blossom in her palm.

At first Ares was rough and coarse
And Aphrodite grew red in the face
Seizing the reins, she stole his horse
While Nike kept him engaged.

The Goddess of Victory never made answer
Her voice quietly humming to the bloom
And though Ares voice cut like a cleaver
She paid it no heed, fearing no doom.

Ares grew tired and finally rested
Beneath her feet as she sat on the wall
Victory obviously had him bested
This had been a fruitless call.

Finally, Nike climbed down to join him
Her dark hair loosed from its plates
And in the dawns coming, the darkness dimmed
And she motioned beyond her gates.

The battle below was louder still here
And Nike gave him a glance and frowned
“Every night I listen and shed my tears
for no victory can be achieved on this ground.”

At hearing her voice and seeing some hope
Ares let a rough smile play on his lips
Finally she was going to put things in scope
But rather, she moved and gave him a kiss.

“Lie with me and perhaps...”and silence then
Ares agreed and the two made a retreat
And there, in her palace, deep within
Blazed a terrible and passionate heat.

When Ares awoke in the middle of the next day
He found Nike gone from her home
Cold and angry he rose, intent to be on his way
but Goddess Aphrodite had left him stranded, alone.

But then he heard the softest sigh
the sound of a babies voice
and stealing to the sea, there Nike lie
holding the prize of his choice.

Within her arms was the smallest of creations
A child so pale, so weak it might barely survive
But there was Nike, crowning it with starry carnations
Sure, it seemed, that the babe would stay alive.

“This is my daughter and yours”
said Nike of this newborn miracle
And slowly stepped forward the God Mars
And took the child, his rough hands careful.

“Her name is Ireni, Goddess of Peace
she will bring calm to the wars below
and be the most coveted in all of Greece
hair dark eyes brilliant, skin as snow.”

Nike smiled her wise smile and stood
Holding Ireni as gentle and kind as the child
A silence spread under evenings hood
the ****** scene turned serene and mild.

And though Victory was not claimed
The battles ended for the stress and fear
And from nights cloak, Ireni’s tears rained
wiping the blood and sweat and violence clear.

And peace remained upon the land
Until the great War of Troy
When Aphrodite and Zeus would play their hand
With fair Helen their devious ploy....

The deeps of darkness have been raised
As if  their being was kindled.
The warm night of peace is at an end.
The devil is he that rages unchecked this night, and there are none to withstand him.
The shield wall breaks, the cavalry routed, and the meanest defence stands alone.
What shall become of these men?
Death surely, for the miracles of poetry give lie to no truth. The curses of old are set in concrete.
Death has gained his presence here. He smells victory. For the living in their mundanity see only their existence.
This existence that means nothing in the tomes of the greater good.
There is no life, only sorrow.
There is no victory, only decimation.
Only the naive think thus.
Victory is not that of arms and steel.
Nor of land or gold or tales of which bards sing
Victory is in the fight that was fought.
For they that wage the good war, and fight the good fight, all is victory.
Defeat is beyond question. Life is not of consequence.
The act alone reigns supreme.
This isn't joy. This isn't glory.
For victory chooses  not the last man to stand, but the last to fall in defiance. Victory belongs to the departed. The victorious dead.
And such as it is. It shall end now.
And it's end alone worthy of song .
For all who bear witness to it.
We die, we do not flee.