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Francie Lynch Aug 2018
I'll scale the hairs of Lincoln's beard,
Leap to the bridge of Roosevelt's nose,
Balance on Jefferson's brow,
Then plead on Washington's pate:
America, stop ******* up.
I'm slipping on the eyes
Of this granite outcrop
!
Gloria Germann Feb 2018
The literal worst.

Some might say Nixon- the criminal in charge

Martin for the tear he let the native’s tread

Hoover for the shanty towns that rose

Fillmore who let the escaped and finally free be returned to captivity.

John Taylor the whig who wasn't a whig but manifested his Ideas in us going west.

Warren G Harding and the Affairs

James Buchanan who started the war.

But the worst were the ones who never got to be.
The literal worst because I got to see a world that will remain unknown to me.
And they are:
Jessie  
Charlene
Victoria and Shirley
Belva
Elaine
Carol ‘n Patsy and
Cynthia McKinney
And who can forget Joan Jett Blakk the black Drag Queen


Because Despite what the winners want you to think WE do not look like James Buchanan!

Warren Harding!

John Taylor and all the other men who have persisted to reign.

And still, we sit here and watch as all other make strides in the field we claim to have created.
Brazil
Germany
India
Israel
Iceland
Ireland
Liberia
Norway
Pakistan
The Philippines
Sri Lanka
South Korea
And the UK

I hope I live long enough to see America rise to the silent challenge of its peers.

To see a woman at the podium
To see a woman at the desk.

To see

The black woman
The trans woman
The bisexual woman
The old woman
The unmarried, unmothered woman
The minority woman
The asexual woman
The not so average American woman woman.
The bleeding woman.
Francie Lynch Oct 2017
(Think Where Have All the Flowers Gone)

Where have all the assassins gone,
I'm just asking,
Where have all the hit-men gone,
It wasn't long ago.
Where have all the psychos gone,
Ones like Sirhan Sirhan,
Or a crazy red Russian,
Better still, an American.

Where have all the agencies gone,
I'm just asking,
The MI5, the CIA,
KGB, Mossad;
Where have covert actions gone,
When there's guys like crazed Kim Jong;
Or a crazed American,
A narcissistic American.

Where have all our heroes gone,
I'm just asking;
Where have all our leaders gone,
Not so long ago.
Where have all fine Presidents gone,
Obama was our last good one;
When will we ever learn,
Ego-maniacs can't govern.
Read to the melody of "Where Have All the Flowers Gone."
Enlarged and re-posted.
Zero Nine Aug 2017
Laze on the couch, sideways,
watching ants attack waed on the gift box
top, Magic, worst thing to teach kids
with addictive tendencies, those who fill
holes with things they hope won't deteriorate
in time after all of the money they paid
Bills stack, get paid, too, but the space left
is huge, too gaping for the remaining
messed up bunch of tight, clinched presidents
Never thought Washington bought ice cream
and got fat, or thought that Jackson dug green,
pipe cleaned, choked on **** til oxygen be
came an old means, but here I slink, giving them
to family, so I can recede comfortably on
an old futon with broke dreams, with full sink,
two XLs, to be honest, it feels too real,
feels too deep, feels like I best hold home
and blow dro, sleep to the X-bone beep.
yeah yeah yeah

but if I were healthy, I doubt I'd be writing.
MARK RIORDAN Mar 2017
THE TAX RETURNS OF THE PRESIDENT
NOW HAVE BEEN FOUND
WHAT WILL THEY REVEAL
FROM THE TOP END OF TOWN


HAS THE PRESIDENT DECLARED
ALL THAT HE SHOULD
FORM THE TAX THAT HE PAID
AS ONLY THE PRESIDENT COULD


WHAT WILL THIS PROVE TO
THE AMERICAN TAX PAYER
HIS TAX RETURNS ARE NOW REVEALED
ON OFFICIAL TRUMP PAPER
WOW NUMBER 60 I CANT BELIEVE IT 60 POEMS ON PRESIDENT TRUMP THAT REVEAL HIS RISE TO THE PRESIDENCY TOGETHER THEY TELL THE STORY. " THE TRUMP CHRONICLES" WILL BE A WORLD BEST SELLER.
MARK RIORDAN Mar 2017
TO HAIR OR NOT TO HAIR
THAT IS THE QUESTION
WHATS WITH TRUMPS HAIR
I JUST HAVE TO MENTION


IS IT FOR REAL OR
IS IT JUST A WIG
THE PRESIDENTS BEAUTIFUL RUG
LETS DANCE A JIG
THIS POEM I COMPOSED FOR A FRIEND WHO WAS FASCINATED BY THE PRESIDENTS HAIR. THIS IS NUMBER 58 IN THE TRUMP CHRONICLES
Alan S Bailey Jan 2017
"Trump not a legitimate president..."
This is how we help presidency "grow,"
"Reasonable" for trying to build a silly wall
Between the US and Mexico,
"Realistic" for even trying to appear
To have a solution to anyone's problem,
While he does "catch up work" in politics.
"Responsible" even his supporters telling people
His radical concepts are better, not just the extreme
Form of right to the Democratic, Liberal opposite.**

Someone please save us from this extreme right winger!
Oh yea, that's "great!"
It's already too late...
Aaron LaLux Nov 2016
Dear America,
what have you become,
so busy worried about where you’re going,
that you’ve forgotten where you’re from,

I am your begotten son,

and I love you,

I love you,
more than these wonderful words can say,
I love you but I don’t know what to do,
because I fear that you’ve gone astray,

like an abusive drunken Trump father,
or a used up distracted Hilary mother,

you seem so drunkenly enraged by greed,
engaged in a lustful want that you falsely believe is a need,

“Oh say can you see,
by the dawn’s early light”,
we bomb people we’ve never even seen before,
something must be wrong because nothing feels right,

why,
why am I scared of you,

maybe it’s your violent tendencies,
maybe it’s your egotistical ways,
maybe it’s how you’ve created all these enemies,
and now these enemies won’t just leave us alone and go away,

“Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light”,
you are my parents and I look up to you,
I love to see the Statue of Liberty’s guiding light,

but honestly,
at this point I don’t know what to do,
I am your son,
and even after all you’ve put me through I still love you,

but I am absolutely terrified at what you’ve become,
what we’ve all become,
and even when I run far away to try and escape,
I realize we are family so no matter how far I run,

I am still an American,
because I am America’s Son,

come,
back home,
back to the times of apple pies peace and butterflies,
before,
the drones,
and satellites appeared ominously like shooting stars in the summer skies,

come,
inside,
let’s talk about life over home cooked pumpkin pie,

I’ve got some questions and I don’t mean to pry,

but why have we had to capitalize off destruction,
why do we still have war what is it’s real function,
why destroy when we can construct a constant connection,
a solid foundation with good intentions and clear instructions,

so we can finally heal and move forward as a family that properly functions!

Be a good husband,
be a good wife,
be a good person,
lead a good life,

look,
it’s not that complicated,
see all us children would forgive all your murderous mistakes,
if only you’d just take the first step and admit that you made them,

he served two tours in Iraq gave his all and lost his life for this country,
and all he got in return was that Arlington grave you gave him,

God please save him,

he was a good kid,
even though he killed,
he did it because his Uncle Sam told him to,
please don’t place him beneath us in ****,

Uncle Sam didn’t know any better either,
and it seems his parents had raised him quite well,
but Uncle Sam’s not his brother’s keeper,
I am and I know my brothers well,
and when any of us lose any of our lives,
we only pray we leave with a story to tell,

because maybe we believe,
that when we leave this life we lead,
at least we leave the world a little bit better,
from sea to shining sea,

at least,
a little,
bit,
better.

Whatever,
what more do you want me to say,
I love you I am your son,
but I’m scared and that scared feeling won’t just go away,

“Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light”,
I write by the light of the bright stars,
and through these words I’ve earned my stripes,

and since we’re on the subject when did the public,
go from stars and stripes to bars and fights?

Honestly America,

as much as I distrust and despise you I still put no one above you,
even though I’m ashamed of you for invading our privacy like an invasive enema,
I don’t even trust you anymore and the only One i used to trust was you,
you’re like a blemish on otherwise perfect skin like irritating eczema,

I am embarrassed,
of the ways in which you’ve behaved and all you’ve put us through,
but I am still your begotten son,
and after all you’ve put me through I still love you…

“Oh say can you see,
by the dawn’s early light”…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

The Holy Trilogy Volume 1: available worldwide: 11/11/16
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
America’s Son


Dear America,
what have you become,
so busy worried about where you’re going,
that you’ve forgotten where you’re from,

I am your begotten son,

and I love you,

I love you,
more than these wonderful words can say,
I love you but I don’t know what to do,
because I fear that you’ve gone astray,

like an abusive drunken Trump father,
or a used up distracted Hilary mother,

you seem so drunkenly enraged by greed,
engaged in a lustful want that you falsely believe is a need,

Oh say can you see,
by the dawn’s early light,
we bomb people we’ve never even seen before,
something must be wrong because nothing feels right,

why,
why am I scared of you,

maybe it’s your violent tendencies,
maybe it’s your egotistical ways,
maybe it’s how you’ve created all these enemies,
and now these enemies won’t just leave us alone and go away,

Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light,
you are my parents and I look up to you,
I love to see the Statue of Liberty’s guiding light,

but honestly,
at this point I don’t know what to do,
I am your son,
and even after all you’ve put me through I still love you,

but I am absolutely terrified at what you’ve become,
what we’ve all become,
and even when I run far away to try and escape,
I realize we are family so no matter how far I run,

I am still an American,
because I am America’s Son,

come,
back home,
back to the times of apple pies peace and butterflies,
before,
the drones,
and satellites appeared ominously like shooting stars in the summer skies,

come,
inside,
let’s talk about life over home cooked pie,

like why have we had to capitalize off destruction,
why do we still have war what is it’s real function,
why destroy when we can construct a constant connection,
a solid foundation with good intentions and clear instructions,

so we can finally heal and move forward as a family that properly functions,

be a good husband,
be a good wife,
be a good person,
have a good life,

look,
it’s not that complicated,
see all us children would forgive all your mistakes,
if only you’d just admit that you made them,

he served two tours in Iraq gave his all and lost his life,
and all he got in return is the grave you gave him,

God please save him,

he was a good kid,
even though he killed,
he did it because his Uncle Sam told him to,
please don’t place him beneath us in ****,

Uncle Sam didn’t know any better either,
and it seems his parents had raised him quite well,
but Uncle Sam’s not his brother’s keeper,
I am and I know my brothers well,
and when any of us lose any of our lives,
we only pray we leave with a story to tell,

because maybe we believe,
that when we leave this life we lead,
at least we leave the world a little bit better,
from sea to shining sea,

at least,
a little bit,
better…

Whatever,
what more do you want me to say,
I love you I am your son,
but I’m scared and that feeling won’t go away,

Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light,
I write by the light of the bright stars,
and through these words I’ve earned my stripes,

and honestly America,
as much as I distrust and despise you I still put no one above you,
even though I’m ashamed of you for invading our privacy like an enema,
I don’t even trust you anymore and I used to only trust you,
you’re like a blemish on otherwise perfect skin like eczema,
I’m embarrassed of the ways in which you’ve behaved and all you’ve put us through,

but I am still your begotten son,

and I still love you…

Oh say can you see,
by the dawn’s early light…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

author of The Poetry Trilogy
author of The H Trilogy


https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
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