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Why do politicians lie
And our wallets deftly pry,
Puff and bluster all the time
Their intent to cheat sublime.

Are we dumb or just naive
Of that talent to deceive,
Smiles aplenty to go round
While broken promises abound.

Why venerate them so
And not tell them where to go,
Pay good money after bad
The whole thing is rather sad.

When we put them to the test
They begin their quest with zest,
But time passes all too fast
Their resolve's not there to last.

We vote them out and start again
And get another just the same,
This conveyor belt of life
Sure to bring us yet more strife.

What solution may we ask
To complete this ingrate task,
Maybe ply them all with drink
Hoping this will help them think.

As to us, let's tune them out
Find a corner where to shout,
Release the loathing and emotion,
Survive the show and the commotion.

Let's be real and rather blunt
Lest our message we might stump,
There is another old profession
That earns its money by the session.

We might as well embrace the ride
Taking bumps full in our stride,
For if we blot out all the noise
They become mere soulless voids.
To make us think and smile
I'm neither talking about the turkey
Who’s running for President
Nor the one which is a country
Now embroiled
And roiled in turmoil
I am talking about the huge pheasant
That we all like to fest on the last Thursday
Of November every year, and on New Year’s Day.

I can’t wait to enjoy its thighs and wings
I can’t wait afterwards to make the swings
Squeak and cry, because we all weigh more
Than before: the skinny, the rich and the poor.
Happy Thanksgiving Day everybody
The President already pardoned a gorgeous turkey.

Copyright © November 25, 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Mitch Prax Nov 5
The world watches.
They hold their breaths
as the ballots are cast-
a responsibility and gift
not to be taken
for granted.
Mitch Prax Nov 5
One more quadrennial,
one more election.
One more dawn,
one more day.
One day more and
we turn a page and enter
one more chapter of history.
Safana Nov 2
Since justice has given way
to terrorism.
Since justice has become
synonymous with kidnapping.

Know that hunger
is a catastrophe.
Hunger is war.
It is either ****
or be killed.

I swear both to God and to you.
I can go for twenty-four hours without eating.
Children were arrested during protests in Nigeria, but they have yet to be brought to court. Because of hunger and poverty, they considered the Russian flag as a solution. They were brought before the court yesterday, and the judge granted them bail in the amount of ten million naira, or approximately 6069 US dollars.

How can a person who is unable to feed himself for 24 hours or more obtain such large sums of money?

This is what justice looks like in Nigeria.
Robert Ippaso Oct 27
If in the basket of deplorables must I be,
To quote a term most used by sweetest Hilary,
Then let me state this best I can,
I'm voting for our country, not the man.

A country where race and gender aren't the bait,
But where everyone is open to debate,
United by a sense of common pride
Holding back divisions’ surging tide.

Where knowledge of our strength is used for good,
And our intent for peace is not misunderstood;
Making clear to tyrants our firm resolve,
So that by dialogue not war may they
squabbles solve.

A nation where our people are first in line
And not succumb to disadvantages or imported crime,
From open borders with illegals pouring through,
With misguided politicians caring more for them than you.

Where doctrine is replaced by common sense,
From the fringes seeking dominance hell-bent.
Boys competing fully in girls sport,
No reasoned thought for when children to abort.

Politicians’ vanity projects not worth
Squandering our money with intent and
unrequited mirth;
While millions live in poverty and need,
Ignored by legislators craving fame and intellectual greed.

I want our leaders to respect our flag,
And not applaud when to the ground protestors stomp and drag;
And for why, but to score a series of cheap shots,
Empowering radicals to ferment those never ending plots.

So yes, my vote goes to just my country,
And if a name must I choose, I say this humbly,
My selection won't be for one that's woke,
Or that will seek to send our country broke.

Politicians convince themselves they're special,
They are in fact a wallowing empty vessel,
Using their guile and mimic to impress,
When truth be told, they almost invariably depress.
To make us think
Robert Ippaso Aug 24
What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.

And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.

Naysayers bleat I'm just an empty ship,
With lights and streamers pretending to be hip,
Without a cargo or destination clear,
Sailing in circles relying on the wind to steer.

But if we're given to analogies, what if I were a Trojan horse,
With clear intent and undisputed course,
Where guile and purpose rule the day,
The aim to soundly win not merely one to play.

Demean and underrate me at your peril,
I can pivot between angel and pure devil,
While my laugh is designed to be disarming,
It masks a side of me considerably less charming.

Everything I've wanted I've achieved,
A trajectory few would have believed,
Do you think I'll stop at this last jump,
And in so doing fully flatten Trump?
A political parody
I play by the rules day in and day out,
Showing my class, wielding my clout.
I take the hard blows time and again,
Knowing my patience shan't be in vain.

Joe's on the ropes, all by himself,
Waiting around to be dumped on the shelf,
Restraint is my friend, as I pull back and watch,
Those flailing wild jabs I so easily dodge.

There's one rule to fighting, it's Biding your time,
Showing him up, using his dime,
Keeping ones cool, letting him dance,
Then all in one motion - destructively prance.

There's rhyme to the reason for the 12
Rounds to be,
So everyone knows, all clearly can see,
The prowess of one, the demise of the other,
An abject defeat, no spin as a buffer.

The guys just a has been yet I'm giving him grace,
Watching him flail, not setting the pace,
The fun's in the waiting, a matter of time,
For him to fall over, his crown to be mine.
To make us think
Robert Ippaso Jun 29
Mumbling, stumbling, inaudible rambling,
The pity, the pain all but Biden now feel,
A spent man bereft, resorting to grumbling,
The fishing line out for opponents to reel.

How did we now reach this insufferable place,
Where a once wily Joe spun his fine web,
Enticing, enveloping with street gotten grace,
His mock Irish banter making folks fall in step.

The ravage of age, that indiscriminate scythe,
Lacking compassion, blind in its grasp,
Cutting down poppy's both lowly and high,
Never once stopping to ponder or ask.

So it falls to the man, with loving advice,
To know when to pen those few final chapters,
Leave it too late and it's a roll of the dice,
A legacy lost and good name in tatters.

Blind pride a sheer folly at most times in life,
Obscuring the path that shows us the way,
The one to traverse with safety not strife,
Avoiding its grasp, not falling its prey.

Country the goal before lowly ambition,
Wisdom and service the call for each day,
This is America's greatest tradition
The foundation from which no leader should sway.
To make us think
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