"candidates" poems
we live in times when words have lost their meaning
they only serve to fill some soundbite gaps between
faces of popstars, politicians, presidential candidates,
maybe some refugees, victims of crimes and natural catastrophes
and more sensational media creations flooding our lives
with unrelenting hype unless you push the button
that brings quiet to your life and you find time to reconsider
what it might be exactly you desire to achieve
in the short time we are allotted in this world
you will discover it is not the senseless media blather
but some coherent thoughts turned into words becoming deeds
enacting change leading to bold decisions
think for yourself and don’t let others think for you
then speak your thoughts in words like others cannot do
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
I lay spread out on
My local shingle beach
Letting the pebbles
Sift through my fingers
I consider the myriad
Shapes and forms they take.
The varying rust
Charcoal grey and mustard shades
I set myself a mission
In the multitudes
That the sea brings to my feet
I will find amongst the
Copious cobbles
The ultimate pebble
Perfect and pleasingly
Quirky or smooth.
I become so absorbed by
This sifting sorting
Comforting process
A simple quest
I forget myself
And my proximity to the waves
Until i am splashed
And soaked and
Have to vow to take up
This valiant quest
Another day.
Until then I have taken
Home a few shortlisted
Candidates
And made a promise to stand up when
The winner is found
And make a little trumpet
Fanfare sound
And hold the stone aloft!
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
1126
Shall I take thee, the Poet said
To the propounded word?
Be stationed with the Candidates
Till I have finer tried—
The Poet searched Philology
And when about to ring
For the suspended Candidate
There came unsummoned in—
That portion of the Vision
The Word applied to fill
Not unto nomination
The Cherubim reveal—
6.4k
Debates, filled with hate,
candidates, go irate.
Put it on national television,
for everyone to see.
Make a disgrace,
of our beloved country.
News lies,
babies cry,
watching innocent people die.
The world falls apart in front of your face,
with issues like the economy, borders, and race.
The news lies,
babies cry,
watch our innocent people die.
The world falls apart in front of your face,
with issues like the economy, borders, and race.
****** scams, and robbery,
all over the **** TV.
Bias reports on politics,
this is how we get our kicks.
Violence, lies, and trickery,
overload the dying TV.
You will soon find,
they’re hypnotizing our weak minds.
News lies,
babies cry,
watching innocent people die.
The world falls apart in front of your face,
with issues like the economy, borders, and race.
The news lies,
babies cry,
watch our innocent people die.
The world falls apart in front of your face,
with issues like the economy, borders, and race.
Don’t try to misguide,
the evidence we provide.
Don’t try to hide,
your disgusting genocide.
Don’t try to hide,
don’t hide,
don’t hide,
don’t hide,
don’t hide,
don’t hide,
don’t hide,
your nationwide genocide.
Genocide, genocide
News lies,
babies cry,
watch those innocent people die.
Stand to the side,
watch a genocide.
Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 5:05 PM UTC
They line up in droves at the voting booth
ignorantly choosing between two candidates on the same side of the same fence
They just use a different lexicon for offense and defense
we are ******* either way you choose
pull that level
push that button
tab that chad
The popular vote to be ignored by the electoral few and cash lined pockets of politicians
How much longer can we afford to play this game?
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 7:53 PM UTC
Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar
Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller
My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition
They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition
They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition
Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition
Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority
Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that
I bought water from you now I have ice to sell
I have a great story but no one worthy to tell
Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen
Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene?
Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave
Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave
Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave
Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave
Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave
Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save
Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave
Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 5:06 AM UTC
Defying the consensus of complacency,
And the enantiomorphic political practicality,
Candidates embrace their vacillating indexicality.
Spouting thrift store self reliance sapientiality,
Telling lores of cultural compatibility.
Hope filled promises of economic suitability,
Aligned with institutional feasibility.
Packaged in over-inclusive catchall empty signifiers
Strewn across all media screens, communal utilitarian plan flyers.
Requesting no need for responsiveness,
For a vote no longer dictates precedence,
In the age of social media endemic presence relevance.
PFL
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 3:40 AM UTC
This is a formal complaint to one Cupid
on behalf of the population of earth.
We find that you've become somewhat,
how can we put it mildly....
unsavory
ever since you started drinking. We've
found that you have not been taking
your job seriously at all since that time
We were understanding at first. Your
job? It's not an easy one. It tolerates
almost no failure, and requires both
physical and mental capacity that is
beyond what most of us can spare.
However...we feel that the alcohol is
affecting your judgement and character
in a way that we can no longer accept.
Below, we've listed the particularly
heinous abuses of your power
1. Taking bets on what you can make people fall in love with. John is now smitten with a cactus while Jenny can't stay away from the inflatable Santa Claus on the Morgans' lawn.
2. Having very attractive women fall in love for your...erm...personal pleasure. That's just offensive
3. Having members of the same family fall in love. The vulgarity of it all is just appalling! It's an ****** epidemic!
4. Shooting your arrows at Rhinoceroses and then laughing as they charge a poor unsuspecting person is not funny.
5. Likewise, shooting an unsuspecting person and having them fall in love with a Rhinoceros who doesn't reciprocate is equally unfunny
6. Last, but not least...Please fix the Republican Candidates. Mitt Romney and Rick ******** are trying to get married next week. While I'm happy that they are now "for" gay marriage, this cannot be tolerated.
So? Do you have anything to say for
yourself? Is that alcohol I smell on your
breath? You don't even care, do you?
Well...we have no choice but to revok---OW!
Oh dear.
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 10:02 PM UTC
A vote for most candidates
is a vote for Monsanto
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
It seems Freedom was very short
In fact history tries hard to really abort
Oh Freedom Oh Freedom
When will we ever see the kingdom?
The past struggles continues in the present
Our own Leader is gone, but who will continue to represent?
God’s eyes have always been our guide
It is truly him we should abide
It seems races have separated according to a bunch
But it is true thinking with planning in the hutch
Is it a thought or just understanding mine?
Oh Freedom Oh Freedom
I weep in my sleep
The idea of not feeling the Freedom cuts ever so deep
The only thing I own is Freedom in my mind to keep
Freedom still being a fight
We can’t tire, but continue in numbers being might
Dr. Martin Luther King had the plan all along
Freedom is definitely where we all belong
Circumstance must change into equality
Respect must change into honor
Pride into dignity
Freedom being reality
I was not meant to be a slave
I have a place, and don’t need to behave
Respect is what I deserve
Dignity in looking ahead, and not down
No chains will ever keep me bound
I will never be silent and will always echo a sound
Oh Freedom when will I truly be free
I am keeping my eyes on thee
He is truly the key
I am a proud individual
I achieved where others said I couldn’t
I established where others said I wouldn’t
Equality is what we need
Only when Freedom is added and only then we can proceed
This is not a personal creed that was just made up
It’s not some silver spoon that came with a diamond cup
Who says Freedom is only for the chosen?
This is a nation and all are candidates for prosperity
Where there is a civil rights, there is a pen and paper to write
Sign Freedom on the dotted line
Remember our Civil Rights is what is combined
Stand up my Brothers and Sisters
Raise your arms and hands up high
No needing to ask the question of why
We all stand together for Freedom and that includes I.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
At 8:30 this morning I was still hopeful. I still had a chance. It was possible. It was mine.
An hour later "We regret to inform you..."
An hour later it was over. the 4 months of waiting for absolutely nothing was over. "Excellent pool of candidates..."
I wondered if that made me less excellent. "highly competitive and qualified..."
Was I not qualified? I replayed my application over and over in my head and it sounded like it was mine.
"Oh, it was national" says my father.
Maybe I'm only qualified when it comes to Wisconsin, because the same thing happened to me at Regionals... Somewhere in America there is someone better equipped for your dream.
"We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors"
Well, what if I have no luck left? What if I'm not excellent enough?
What if I'm not qualified enough?
What if I'm not deserving enough?
Then I look over my Journalism application. 120 spots.
120 qualified people out of a pool of who knows how many.
My morning made me feel unqualified as if there was a slim chance I could possibly obtain anything I truly wanted.
Then there's Beyonce and Jay-Z tickets everyone is raving about, but I'm in a stand still because I have **** I need to do. I have dreams that money actually can buy. So while everyone is raving about concert tickets,
I'm at a standstill wondering how in the hell will I afford to make my dreams come true when Beyonce could've made them happen 100 times over and then some...
Feeling unlucky, unwealthy, and under qualified
Then a friend tells me "cast your anxiety upon the lord"
Deep breath in.
Exhale. Something greater is coming my way.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
When did news parody
stop being funny?
Was it somewhere between
Alan Jackson’s 9/11 cash-in
and Donald Trump’s hair?
Was it BoJo stranded on a zipline over London,
or Cameron’s alleged porcine relations
(bizarrely black-mirroring fiction)?
When did the news
start doing Chris Morris’ job for him?
When did they start
pre-satirising the headlines?
“No evidence mermaids exist,” says US Government.
Swimming pool evacuated after prosthetic leg is mistaken for **********
Robots follow Marco Rubio to South Carolina.
I swear, I didn’t
make any of those up.
The actors on Saturday Night Live
are more statesmanlike
than the Presidential Primary Candidates they’re lampooning.
How the hell do they breed these
creatures? These gurning,
overgrown foetuses with their
conveniently dead ****** sisters to get
all wet-eyed and tumescent over,
their boomingly hollow controversy and
their total, catastrophic
crashes of personality.
These loathsome
organic constructs who would seem
more relatable and trustworthy if
their image consultants made them wear
Nixon masks for every
public appearance.
When did it all become
this strange, sick spoof
of itself?
Is there no one left in Britain who can make a sandwich?
Man dressed as penguin receives more votes than the Liberal Democrats.
Piers Morgan given jail time for illegally hacking ‘phones and gloating about it.
Okay.
I made the last one up.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
Love is life.
Love is eternal.
Love is forever.
So what if the candidates of my love keep changing?
I am constant and truly love myself.
One day I shall be a little less lonely.
Jul 22, 2022
Jul 22, 2022 at 8:43 PM UTC
*" It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews,
Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and
Illuminations from one End of this Continent
to the other from this Time forward forever more.”
John Adams – July 3, 1776.*
Webster Groves - 2016
The Townhall fountain dances
cheerily in the morning sun.
The red-white-blue shirted crowd
rises as one for the colors.
Laughing children scramble for
tootsie rolls and sweet tarts
tossed by a strolling clown.
Philadelphia, July 3, 1776
Carriages sped toward Philadelphia
where resolute patriots
would turn the pages of history
and tell an unsuspecting world
that a new nation had given birth to itself.*
Sousa strains peal from the marching Statesmen,
Girl Scouts guide their well-groomed mounts -
hooves echoing through concrete caverns.
Vintage firetrucks and autos
sound their horns and sirens
as candidates work the crowd, pressing the flesh.
*Each crass insult from the British crown
had tightened the noose on the colonial neck.
The middle ground was soaked with patriot blood
and revolution was the only course left.*
Barbecue clouds drift over Pat and Lee’s farm
Horseshoes spin and clang and frisbees fly.
A pot-luck feast with beans and franks
interrupts the pop and glare of bottle rockets.
*One by one, each patriot quilled the parchment
resolved to endure the costs of liberty -
knowing to the marrow that defeat
would spell certain ******* and death.*
We reach the lakeshore at dusk -
unfolding chairs - spreading out blankets -
strains of Americana drift over the lake.
then a pyro-technic extravaganza
blazes across the summer sky.
*Washingon’s tattered and bloodied men
cornered Cornwallis at Yorktown.
Then surrender - all British claims
to American soil banished to the tomes of history.*
The grand finale pummels the darkened sky
raising cheers and whistles from the crowd
Toddlers collapse in parental arms,
car doors slam, engines ignite
and head-lighted caravans, turn for home,
spiraling off in every compass degree.
“Happy birthday,” America and endless happy returns
"from this time forward forever more!”
Robert Charles Howard
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC
If wars were subject to a copyright -
Then candidates would have to pay a fee
Each time they appeal to the glorious past
When standing for the election, the proceeds
To fall like ****** weregeld on the dead
Who can never cash the checks anyway
If wars were subject to a copyright -
Then Hollywood movies should pay their dues
Whenever a bold, scripted commando,
Body-waxed muscles glistening with makeup,
Advances up Hamburger-Helper Hill
With a patriotic song on his lipstick
If wars were subject to a copyright –
The generals’ memoirs, the admirals’, too,
Would pay to lighten the blighted young lives
Of soul-fragmented lads whose pain and blood
Won the air-conditioned another star
And unctuous applause at the officers’ club
If wars were subject to a copyright -
The President would have to pay his bill
Each time he bangs the lectern for a war,
That glorious dux bellorum dux-ing
From the rear, while a squadron of pigs fly
Above, powered by pixie-dust and smoke
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
1. The Race Card: Whether it be in suggesting that anyone who doesn’t vote for him because he is black is probably a republican, or in blaming Bush administration racism on a slow response to Hurricane Katrina, Obama is quite comfortable playing the race card.
2. Anti-Indian: After the Obama campaign released a paper disparaging other candidates for their ties to the Indian-American community, the chairman of the bipartisan US India Political Action Committee, Sanjay Puri, stated that the Obama Campaign was “engaging in the worst kind of anti-Indian American stereotyping.” Of course, Obama denied any hand in the racist document put out by his campaign.
3. Corrupt Buddies: Tony Rezko, a long time friend and fund-raiser for Obama, was indicted last fall on federal charges that accuse him of demanding kickbacks from companies seeking state business. When asked about his friend, Obama said, “I’ve never done any favors for him.” This turned out to be a lie, as evidence turned up proving that Obama had written letters to city and state officials praising Rezko’s business practices.
4. Wal-Mart Ties: While bashing of Wal-Mart’s labor practices in public, Obama has been profiting from their business through the money his wife made as a member of the board of directors for a company that produces food for the mega-corporation.
5. Religious Ties: Is Obama a Muslim? Is he a Christian? Nobody is 100% sure, but it is true that Obama was raised in a Muslim family and at one time attended an Islamic school. He currently claims to be a convert to Christianity, but some are concerned about his Muslim upbringing.
6. Anti-Second Amendment: Obama is one of the most anti-Second Amendment legislators in the country. He supports a ban the sale or transfer of all forms of semi-automatic weapons.
7. Gas-guzzler: Obama might attack American automakers for not making enough environmental friendly automobiles, but when he goes home he drives a gas-guzzling V-8 hemi-powered Chrysler 300.
8. Obama Ringtones: The most annoying campaign tool ever.
9. Obama Girl: I take back what I said about the ringtones. This girl is far more annoying.
10. His Unelectable Name: Barack Hussein Obama, ’nuff said.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
Men and women for election,
Listen to the crowds,
Reflect desires to perfection,
Echo murmurs loud.
Elected, the voters exult
If their candidates win,
Curse under losing result...
Plot to get themselves in.
Either way, time isn't long,
Voters lose first love;
Officials begin to look wrong,
And politics gives 'em a shove.
We never quite see
We're electing ourselves;
Candidates riding on mirrors;
Shiny reflections scream while we yell
Our demands or feed on our fears.
Soon plans we've made turn to dust;
Politicos fail us;
The system breaks down;
The party clogs with inertia and rust,
Until the next campaign comes 'round.
Want to see what we'll get?
Take a look in the mirror...
What we see gives us reason
For fretting and fear.
True mirrors, our best politicians;
Can only reflect what they see...
If we kneel to offer petitions,
Ourselves will pay for our pleas.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
On Monday I will wear my uniform -
A blazer from Goodwill, old khaki slacks -
Knot my made-in-China patriotic tie
And verify that my papers are in order
On Monday I will sortie through the candidates -
I’m important to them on this one day -
Then work around their signs all slogan-trapped
And rush the doors through a hail of cliches’
And watched by comrades with their helmets blue
Vote for a Merovingian or two
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 8:51 AM UTC
Every ending starts where the next beginning plays
Followed by a rush of people who hurry to be delayed
Absence makes the heart wander for those who cannot wait
For the signal to pick up lines of oblivious candidates
Self-doubt leads to blame leads to truth leads to death
It hides behind your mind to find you blindly obsessed
You don't know why it fails when then you were best
At leaving a place with another, now you're one less
Are you lost or just lonely?
You stay up all night thinking, “If only...”?
Ghosts of Desperation holding
You in a choke hold; is it warming
You all up from the inside?
Casting half-laughs staring wide-eyed
Ghosts of Self-Pity abide to reside
In that choke hold redefine pride
Why are you not happy solo?
Don't give excuses like “I'm friend-zoned”
Why put her in a choke hold?
Afraid to let go and leave her throat cold?
Get off my stool let me drink alone
No, Lady my heart is not sold
Laughing at my jokes does not make you gold
You're drunk and embittered: self-taught choke hold
Why do I feel so god **** tense?
Pasts present my present paid penance
One more drink then I'll go home
Six more to numb my damning sold soul
Liquid hubris raise my confidence
Make us all feel less incompetent
Let our veracious selves go unfold
Transgressions greet us with your choke hold
Let's frolic in our loss of breathing
We like the taste and we're not leaving
Alcoholic for this scheming
Forget your lives live like you're dreaming
In love with ideas in lieu of reality
Make us feel like we are the normality
One knight stands with armor rusting
Lusting for the din; it's rushing
Popped collar Icarus:
Get into the choke hold
Self harmer ichor blessed:
Get into the choke hold
Lost soul navigator:
Get into a choke hold
Ex marks the *** for later:
Get into a choke hold
Ice cold analyzer:
Get into a choke hold
Wise tending ***** prescriber:
Get into a choke hold
Fate maker pushed and pulled:
Get into a choke hold
Let this story to be told:
Let's get into a choke hold!
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
We all have been one in some shape or form.
Having an opinion of almost everyone.
We all have a family member.
Who life we don't agree with?
And that mainly when our judgment begins.
Which label us the judgmental people.
Until the script is turned back upon us.
Yes, we still have the try and truth.
Who lives by that taught golden rule?
If you can't say nothing good.
Then don't say anything at all.
We talk about people affairs.
We talk about the wayward child.
We talk about the interracial couple.
We talk about those unmarried with a child.
We talk the bigots we know.
We talk about the political candidates.
We talk about those that talks about us.
And then we go into a defense mode
Cause , we don't want others judging us.
Although , we are apart of the judgmental people.
Ministers, are no better than us.
They talk about the sinners in the scriptures.
In lessons they use to teaches us.
Will it ever end?
I guess not, as long as we, have the judgmental people in society.
Which I guess includes me.
Is it hard to bite our tongues?
Not really.
But to some it is.
When it's the only way to make friends.
And this is , where your humanity begins?
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 9:56 AM UTC
How would I like to be loved?
It is a very difficult question
Because, though I appear, at first glance
To be "The Guy Next Door"
The reality, I assure you, is entirely different
Firstly, every individual is different
Secondly, I am autistic
And finally
There is so much about me
That you will get to know
Only if you are a good friend of mine
How would I like to be loved?
Well, let me tell you
Love is not all about candlelight dinners
Nor is it about *** in the bedroom
It is about being there for each other
No matter what
If I truly love someone
I would be ready to go to jail for her
Of course, not if it is for something ethically wrong
But you get the idea
How would I like to be loved?
If you have seen the Tamil movie "Thiruchitrambalam"
Then you would understand
If I were to say
That I want someone to love me
The way Nithya Menen loved Dhanush
In that amazing movie
How would I like to be loved?
If you've seen me at my worst
One of those days
When I am in one of my rages
And keep shouting and breaking things
Or I lose my focus at work
Due to all my insecurities
Rearing their ugly heads
Or I simply drown myself in my thoughts
Refusing to come out of my bed
Or I cry like a child
Drowning myself in a tidal wave of self-pity
And you still love me the same
As you did when I was at my best
Then it is indeed true love
Enough said
How would I like to be loved?
When I hear one of Harris Jayaraj's romantic melodies
And can instantly relate to it
I know that I am in love
And that love is real, not reel
How would I like to be loved?
If you ask me how was my day
And I go on and on
Droning about the technicalities of my work
Or cribbing about various issues
Such as candidates, clients or my boss
And you never tire of listening to me
Then I know you are truly in love
Also, if I keep asking you how was your day
Every single day after work
And you never once tire of answering such a mundane question
If that is not true love
I don't know what is!
And on that note
It's time to wrap up this little monologue
And return to hard reality
Dec 25, 2022
Dec 25, 2022 at 11:59 PM UTC
You know the famous saying
All good things come to an end
This applies to weekends as well
Or in this case, Sundays
Because I was forced to work yesterday
Due to a massive project
Which will keep me occupied
For a good three weeks
Including two Saturdays
Hence, all the more reason
To positively dread the start of tomorrow
Ah yes, the infamous Monday
Something that terrifies me
More than climbing Mount Everest
Or entering a lion's den
Or earning the wrath of a cobra
I can go on and on
But I think I've made my point
Yes, Mondays are bad
Especially if you've enjoyed the weekend
As much as I did
Notwithstanding working on Saturday
So, do you want to know
What makes tomorrow twice as bad
As any other Monday?
Firstly, as mentioned earlier
I am working on a big project
Probably my biggest in the last three years
Secondly, while the going has been smooth so far
Things are going to get tricky
So far, all I have accomplished
Is pure research
But now, I'll have to start calling people
And these are not recruitment calls
Which are relatively straightforward
On the other hand
I am entering pure sales territory
Which may not be a big deal
For most "normal" people
But for someone who is autistic
It is a different ballgame altogether
In fact, it is like steering a ship
Through the Bermuda Triangle
And finally
The biggest roadblock
In my long and treacherous path
Is not the candidates
Not even the client
But my accursed laptop
Whose ability to perform under pressure
Is even less than that of South Africa
In a global cricket tournament
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 11:58 AM UTC
The rotten fruit shall be shaken --- W. H. Auden
Do they somehow envision sainthood in the homeless
or extol the virtue of the millions toiling for minimum wage;
see themselves as the feudal overlords of trickle-down,
their enormous profits banquet omelets for the common good?
You know the politics whereof I speak,
the Me, Myself and I of anachronistic yesterdays,
the concave years of soup-kitchens supporting high-rise condos
and batshit crazy presidential candidates admiring selfies.
I wonder if it's all because they can't reach ******
impotence and pharmaceuticals which fuel our economy?
A nation moans from the exhaustion of despair with
forgotten cityscapes of odorous blacks and blues.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC