"congressional" poems
*The cordons of existence are constricting
For the keepers of the dream have let us down,
Who will buy tomorrow if performances are hollow
Causing all the global spectators to frown?
American has been the silk pyjamas
Since ’45 they’ve lead the world’s display
In health and wealth and brandishing the muscle
But in recent times it seems they’ve seen their day.
For since Clinton’s time the National debt has spiralled
They’ve departed brushfire wars in disarray,
Default now looms obscene with disharmony supreme
With Congressional leaders ranting in the fray.
The fiasco of a Government held to ransom
By a faction of extremist’s from the right,
Whilst the greenback in decline won’t change water into wine
The dire threat of fiscal chaos causes fright.
So global confidence is fading in the dollar
And the watchers shake their heads in blank despair,
For the willingness to follow is now a bitter pill to swallow
When the USA’s rock steadiness aint’ there.
So, what’s around the corner for tomorrow?
What aspirants are waiting in the wings?
With a fading USA perhaps it’s China’s turn to play
Though that’s going to mean adjustments made to things.
Of course we’re venturing into territory’s unchartered
And the crystal ball consulted, isn’t clear
But one thing I can assure, if this is what we must endure,
Is that our tomorrows will be something, now, to fear.*
Marshalg
Auckland N.Z.
19 October 2013
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
If corporate Dems tell me about how 'We all do better when we all do better'...
Or about how 'It's not about class, it's about coming out for Dems'...
Or about how, 'No one identifies with the working class' or 'nobody wants to identify with the working poor'...
I say to you, WE ARE THE WORKING POOR.
Look at the stains on their clothes, listen to their words, look at the rugged callous of their hands, who amongst us can last a job loss, or wage cut, or a car blow out?
None of us, cept the 1%.
We are the precariat class, the proletarian class.
I say to you, the working poor and homeless are the 'emarginati', the literal marginal ones, the ones at the edges of society.
But who, honestly, isn't at the edge???
The Democratic gubernatorial candidate turned carpet-bagging Congressional goon, Bank of America executive turned-state-CFO Alex Sink embodies the centrist-right neoliberal dogma of 'business-rules', who cares about immigrants besides those who 'clean our hotels and do our landscaping'.
Brand-imaging, quaffed corporate Dems are why the two-party system in broken.
Both parties are sell-outs to capital, and they think we don't know.
We know, and we remember.
Neoliberal capitalism of 'Washington Consensus' imposed on the rest of humanity will fall.
I just hope we wise up as a republic in the mean time.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
Awesome Young
I stumble, catch myself,
But my breath is still short.
Skip around,
go back and discover,
uncover.
Incredible.
Awesome
in a way that overused word was intended to be
used.
There are so many miracles,
young poets, whose works
lost in the shuffle of the ordinary,
who don't get read, liked or
loved like they awesomely deserve.
One day,
someday,
I will write a poem,
naming names,
before a Congressional Committee,
getting them on the record.
Done it before,^
will do it again,
got take a week off from work
to get 'em all.
Odd,
even then,
will strike out,
can't capture them all,
they keep a-coming,
from all over the world,
places I never heard of.
It almost makes me believe
world peace is not just a
Saturday Night Live joke.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 8:18 AM UTC
When Dorothy trod the paths of Oz
Her companions were deficient:
One lacked Courage,
One lacked brains,
One was heartless, but
Ax Proficient.
She was an illegal alien,
from Kansas, of all
places!
Imagine, when she and
Toto came-
the look on people’s faces.
Still that was seventy years ago.,
In another place and time-
Just before we went to war
against evil personified.
If Dorothy, today,appeared
with a similar convocation
The Wizard might mistake them
for a Congressional Delegation
For lack of brain and heart and spine
Our Congress is more than sufficient-
Some lack Courage, some lack brains
Some are heartless but
tax proficient
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:41 AM UTC
Returning from the brink of despair,
the bewildered postman tampers with
Alaska, Manifest.
Do not disturb the water-
There lurks the Hazard Congressional
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 9:06 PM UTC
Stoplight Lynching,
Drive-by Reaping,
Soul snatching police officers,
Throat tearing teacher’s with a theme
Violence in the genes,
Scheming while masquerading what you are to be,
Playing charades because social acceptance is in,
Evolving from barbarism to greed,
Juxtaposed Imposter,
Judicially Jaded,
Think you can wield a blade,
When congressional dribble will bleed you away,
Martyr Mishaps,
Minds without maps and easy to catch,
A congregation in need creeds,
Stoplight sinning,
Drive-by finishing,
Soul savoring deities,
Throat slicing teachings,
Ignorance is a conquering king,
All encompassing,
All controlling,
Ignorance is a conquering thief, compromising our mental capacities for the sake of Almighty Themes.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC
Legislators of social stigmatization
hand out identity before child birth,
reluctantly judged by your pigmentation,
you're given a name
and a pew in a church,
assigned to a gender with implications,
while ATM balance determines your worth
Bugs will certainly inherit the Earth
Disguised as your neighborhood
privacy invaders,
cops kick in the door
at your mother's front porch,
enforcing law written by legislators
for a routine seizure and search
Police brutality couldn't mask the depravity
of their warrants nomenclature
Capitalist crusaders terrorize Americans,
but can't keep the bugs
from their Earth inheritance
Men will shroud their evil nature
Malicious intent hides below the glacier
Camouflaged vindictive behavior
is electing dictators across the equator
Truth serenaders lobby for
congressional persuaders
to pardon these murderous
capitalist crusaders,
fitting agendas with tailor made suits,
who infect Mother Earth deep in her roots
Antibiotics couldn't heal or stop this
infection these players gave her
Pray for fire and fury
to burn away worry
when bugs surely crawl from the dirt
to inherit what's left of our Mother Earth
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
the desperado cowboy-poet awakes
anxious, needing-ending relief,
the craving greater than great,
he begs-raggedly, with Raggedy handily Andy words,
to all and anyone in the aroused surrounded vicinity,
give please give, of something to write
the bay, soothingly plays the would-be author,
"place me, look my way,
have I not droplets endless
from which you've drunk exquisitely,
so many more to fair share"
the birds twit and flit,
raucous caucus demanding
to be seated
by the tablet's keypad
to gain entry
to one more congressional natural tribute
the sky and sun organize a
joint session, extraordinary mission;
"we are the first of your day,
thus primarily,
we win the primary,
deserving in your recording of our
nomination as the first day's
sound and light show victorious"
sorry folks,
got a better tale to tell,
natural in its way,
titillating, and quite suitable
for reputating Au Naturel humanity
and it's a quirky, say hey tale,
morning coffee fresh,
a first word report from an
untelivised convention
of a different kind of congressing
awoke to find the:
*chauffeur in bed with the cook,
the Poppy, beside the sleeping Nana,
the poet, eyeing the lying next to him, tango dancer,
the classicist eyeing the sleeping moderne,
ditty ditsy Ogden Nash astride a Shakesperian sonnet,
the thinning gray line defending his bedded half,
from an invading horde of unionizing blonde tresses,
the republican with the democrat,
the conservative with the liberal,
heated discussions, non-neutralizing negotiations
conducting and watched by
peeping tom skies, clouds, birds and waters
pretending to fly flow past*
wow
now that,
is quite interesting
deserving worthy of a
disrobing disputatious disreputation,
very newsworthy and why not,
a poem all its own?
the bay waved goodbye,
the birds disbanded in silence,
quietly disenfranchised.
the sun and the sky hung around
pretending to be UN neutrality observers
wearing cute blue and white helmets
looking every where but not,
at the line of demarcation
the beggar, by his new impoverishment, enriched,
another love poem writ,
niched and pitched
one more itch,
so very well scratched
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Why is it so, Oh why is it so
That the owners of capital
Inevitably grow
To be possessors of everything
Strategically placed,
Solidly, tangibly
Gunmetal faced?
Owners of newspapers
Head of TV,
Masters of radio
Commercial and free.
Dispensers of policy
Spreaders of gloss,
Keep movers informed
Keep fools at a loss.
Like a puppeteer General
Manipulate strings
Of artillery thunder
And stratosphere wings.
Subliminal ownership
Military wise
Guarantees power
And fortifies ties.
Holding the cards
In Congressional spheres
Ensures positive influence
To leadership ears.
Holding sway
In the ship of state
Commands control
Of those who rate.
Power to publish,
Power to spin,
Manipulative power
To politically win.
Power to generate
Mountains of wealth,
Marauding powers
Of infinite stealth.
Solidly, tangibly
Gunmetal faced,
Owners of capital
Strategically placed.
Controllers of influence
Puller of strings,
Powerful Anchors
...Societal Kings.
Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
23 March 2009
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 12:53 AM UTC
Collared for white collar,
To society I'm paying my dues
The Trump appointee Club Fed blues.
The beds are pretty clean and soft,
At Club Fed, they hardly cost
Shootin' shuffleboard, takin' a snooze
Just forgettin' the Club Fed blues
The **** beach aint just ahead
Club Fed just aint the Club Med
At 3-pm, it's tea and cake
Every night supper-- it's Trump steak
The cash register rings, it's all his take.
They're adding on to the Club Fed thing,
A spanking new Congressional wing
Having latte with a Trumper con
He whines,"I'm no Don,
I was just a pawn."
On the ladies side, want to meet
Lori, the College Admission cheat
No black ink pen tattoos
Just plain old Club Fed blues
Bill Barr and Rudy sit at table
Remembering when they were on cable
Just spinning another Ukrainian fable
Missing my 5-pm yardarm *****
A stiff price to pay, the Club Fed blues
When I leave it's to the Caribbean
To a fat numbered account
And I'll finally lose the Club Fed blues.
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 6:56 AM UTC
November of Sixty-five, at the X ray landing zone
men of the seventh Calvary were outnumbered far from home..
The casualties were mounting, Charlie held the heights.
Four massed assaults repulsed that day, Terror ruled the nights
In the high grass and the heat they lay,
the wounded men and dying.
They thought their fate was set and sealed: No med-e vacs were flying.
Through shot and shell, into that hell, two brave men came flying
into the hot landing zone for the wounded men and dying.
Thirteen trips in all they made to keep some hope alive.
There are men alive today who, without them, would have died.
Ed Freeman and Bruce Crandall flew where angels feared to tread.
They bore the wounds of valor where others would have fled.
His medal of Honor was bestowed for conspicuous gallantry.
today we mourn, Ed Freeman’s gone
and Freedom’s still not free.
this poem is written in honor of Captain Ed "Too Tall" Freeman. the action for which he received the Congressional Medal of Honor was the battle of La Drang, Vietnam which is the core of the Mel Gibson film " We were soldiers" the action takes place on 11/14-15/65
Dec 4, 2011
Dec 4, 2011 at 6:58 PM UTC
1.
Full sta(r)ring
I sit as the window
was a pleading enormous nobody
he declared my head
practically lost.
2.
flustered you’ll doubt that
he glanced
sleep can’t.
3.
Crooked conversation listeners
clenched authority grimy
beside the sight attempt
4.
that chanced amusement
obliged its stiff attempt
by askance explanation
he and the slipped tongue
therefore sitting
on the heels of friday
5.
overhead the engine slipped suddenly when
she whispers explanation
grand
6.
growling hurried difficulty
shouldn’t reason but
the creature bitterly
declared in smaller steps
"you’ll doubt when i"
7.
I blinked and riddle
the shifting moral of executed
fright the cunning
underpromised
dependent muddle
congressional huddle
8.
not the sadistic wet world
glaring or the the the
defended
answers soaped the the the
dyed course
hello doesn’t the the the
let my coming
9.
adding highest denial
we tear the despair
rolling secret sea so far
winter guard softly introduced
my remembered underneath
10.
his daughter
a canary warily dared
to pretend to drink in
bound education of judging
11.
the height dating
and pushy she interrupting
like the party
for wonderful
couple of sharks
12.
elbow listening did dishes
she declared panicky
we will go by asking
uh um
curled hair blank slate
forming saucepan all sobbing
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
idiosyncratic motions define circular thoughts and notions
grasped ideals let go in the oceans of confusion
scrambled morse code messages spelled out in brail
depict battlefields and hospital wards
sanctuaries for chaos, chapels for the wicked.
devils hidden beneath PR departments and counsels.
Put into place to distort and misplace,
the bane of clarity, cancer to the soul.
More should and could be made of this
Alas aesthetics argue and compel us to believe
lost in external endeavors, spiraling into catatonic outbursts.
Has this become the norm? We've been conditioned to accept.
The body of a man, running on the fumes of better days.
Left with nothing but ideals looking forth to better ways.
We've succumb to society and its rule.
The leader points his fingers, declares them wrong
and we play the fool, drinking from the puddles of congressional drool.
Wrapped around their fingers, yarn to their spool, we've let them mold
and take rule. Sold our souls, made way to power tools and flashy jewels.
It's the gift of "freedom", buy and consume. Don't worry about this,
they'll handle the rest.
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 11:55 AM UTC
CONGRESSIONAL EDICT
Go home soldier;
No whining allowed.
Shut up soldier;
It’s enough to be proud.
Be proud you fought
To defend our systems.
Just stop ********
About things wrong with them.
Go away, soldier;
So what if you lost a leg?
Man up, soldier;
It is not polite to beg.
You did your bit fine
It serves no purpose to lag.
Shut up now, for good;
Your words seem to be a brag.
Bug off, soldier;
Yours is an old sad song.
Who cares soldier?
We’re important, so go along.
We have work to do now
And laws to undo and make.
We have no time for cripples,
How much whining can we take?
Buck up, soldier;
The churches will feed you.
Not us, soldier;
We no longer need you.
You fought for your country
In the wars of yesterday.
That is an old, sad story.
So, just go away.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
Part 1
The snooze button empowers me to the veto the day
However some Congressional sub-committees on time and financing appear to be overriding my action
Part 2
I have played with clouds
I have seen moons drop past the horizons of distant worlds
I have talked to Solomon, Moses, Jesus, Muhammad, Siddhartha, the Dalai Lama, all of his incarnations, Gandhi, Ben Franklin, Abraham Lincoln and soldiers returning home from countless wars
And I have been disappointed thousands of times because you have awoke me before I was fully enlightened
Part 3
You should have warned me before I said something stupid
Why don't you ever signal me before I over draw my checking account
You could of let out some kind of peep telling me that the dog was about to crap on the floor
You are good for nothing
Part 4
It needs to be over between us
I am in love with pillow
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Yesterday, today
And tomorrow
Through finger pointing
Recriminations and sorrow
There’s little else
On which to borrow
Other than pretending
At trying to be thorough
Just who do they
Think they fool
By invoking
Congressional rule
Using oversight
As a weapon or tool
While grandstanding
And being cruel
After eleven hours
Of having been grilled
Their objectives
Still haven’t been filled
No blood on the floor
Has been spilled
‘Cos the witness
Just answered and chilled
Clearly she’s much wiser
And older
She brushed their accusations
Right off of her shoulder
As their questions
Got hotter not colder
She dug her heels in
Like a soldier
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
The revolution will not be televised,
unless it is being used to vilify,
or is being politicized
by those political guys
trying to score votes.
Any fair press will be silenced or brutalized
along with other protesters.
The leadership will be euthanized,
or demonized unless they can be
subdued quietly.
If you are under the illusion
that you can fight back physically
you must be mentally silly.
The cops got equipment
left over from the military
cause the war machine
wants to sell our government
the newest toys.
If our government has any say
they will find a way to lock away
anyone who might inspire change.
If you don’t believe me
just look and read
about Assata Shakur,
or Angela Y. Davis.
If you know or love anyone
who is out there trying to save us,
from the congressional and big business,
power hungry alliance
you better pray that they keep their defiance
just low key enough to slip the notice
of Law enforcement, or POTUS,
cause this country isn’t for us
and does not provide justice.
It is just a business that is made
to break and degrade
while the working class is enslaved.
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 10:40 AM UTC
His guts swirl to the beat
of the marching band.
His hands are nothing
but earthquake rumbles
that he tries to control
and his veins turn into fault lines
pouring sea water onto his palms.
His name hangs on
the screen like a ticking
time bomb ready to explode
into bits—into tiny grains to spread
around the world.
Every step to the stage
is one minute closer to
another day coming to a close—
like an old book that needed
to be returned to the shelf.
Pearl crusted croissants moons
greet him for a consolation—
a congressional medal of honor
he’ll be proud of to hang on his body.
Sugar filled tears fall
like river—one tear at a time.
And finally…
he can smile with ease…
There was no them and there was no stage;
it’s just the broken
air-conditioners’ noisy hums
that need to be fixed;
it’s just the annoying squeaking
chair that has been too old to be sat at.
It’s just an empty paper
whispering that
he will die today…
His dreams still
hang on,
*but today…
he is just another
selfish prayer
that God forgot
to hear…*
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 10:51 AM UTC
Look down.
Is your money slipping away
As if it never was?
And can you not figure out
What is the basic cause?
Look down.
Are you hands not quite beige
And are there calluses there?
Then your Trump Republicans
In Congress don’t really care.
Look down.
Are you a pregnant woman
Who has no sacks of gold?
Are you sick and poor now?
Are you broke and old?
Look down.
Do you have a few million
You can donate to the GOP
Then likely you are *******
And have suffered silently.
If you sit and let them do evil
And don’t stand and resist.
They’ll use your sacred words
To prove your rights don’t exist.
Look down.
Do you watch the television
And believe all you see?
Does the Christian right dictate
How your existence should be?
Look down.
Are you sick of war and hate
And can’t see it ever ending?
Just realize it’s Congressional villains
That our country is befriending.
Look down.
Are you living up to the goals
You set for yourself in life?
Or is your government killing us all
And handing you the knife?
Look down.
There is hope if we all act
And pull these criminals down.
It’s our fault they are even there.
They run the circus, don’t be a clown.
If you sit and let them do evil
And don’t stand and resist.
They’ll use your sacred words
To prove your rights don’t exist.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:55 PM UTC
.
"Look
John's last
minute economic
plan does nothing
to tackle the numb
er one job facing
the middle class , a
nd it happens to be
as Barack says, a
three- letter word:
jobs. J - O - B - S ."
"Three proud words
;Made in the USA."
"Facts are stupid
things." " I love Ca
lifornia I practically
grew up in Phoenix."
"I promise you, the
president has a big stick." "A zebra
doesn't change its spots. " I think gay
marriage should be between a
man and a woman. ".
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
Will you do me a favor
There's a circus coming to town
Can you make sure that the way is clear
Of any minds that are sound
As they parade main street U.S.A.
They'll be passing out crazy ideas
Those they'll hand out to the adults
Cotton candy for all of the kids
There's even Democratic magicians
Who specialize in the slight of hand
You can watch but don't overly listen
To the blather mixed with demands
Doesn't much matter the party
Pretty much one and the same
Democrat or Republican
Same worn out clowns with different names
Hoping it takes at least 8 years
Before we're fed up with all of the lies
Then we'll put who they tell us back in
More of the same in a cheaper disguise
Oh, and the main attraction
Center ring of the double minded congressional clowns
Well have to add more rings to this circus
3 won't do this time around
And per our favorite Ring Master
Get ready for the greatest of shows
The best is yet or pure disaster
Only time and the Good Lord knows
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
Though you lose, thus becoming an intimate as a lover or friend, brother or sister, parent,
you will always lose through attrition or accident.
We know that 9/11’s are attrition and
love is always an accident, because
we reap what we sow, and never choose whom we love.
Attrition is the rain, forming
from pressure within the skies,
high and low temperatures at Armageddon:
yin and yang becoming earth’s tears.
Accident is the rain, vilifying
the evil of being from these two lessers of the skies,
love is sought but never found or found at odd places:
yin and yang becomes earth’s joy.
Thus, rain is a lie, liar, lying, saying
joy and love at the same time.
But love is not from this world. It is
not recognized, but named… “No” to the world’s belligerence.
We know love is expressed by this action, yes…
Thus, it’s not a lie. Love cannot be otherwise
or we would’ve never crucified the Savior
or our true loves for the world…
Love cannot exist naked.
It is always ready to be whipped, strangled, maimed
as Jesus or a twice victimed Iraqui,
the third world or as Salvadore Allende.*
But I love the rain despite my self.
It is within the reach of definitions
but not confirmations. So, love
like rain cannot be held hostage
by human view nor divine postage.
I love as it rains, I rain as I love.
From here, in my prayer, let my love of rain be love.
*Found in Voices of a People’s History of the United States, by Howard Zinn and Anthony Arnove, and the now canonical historical work of the United States by the same Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States: “Watergate had made both the FBI and the CIA look bad---breaking the laws they were sworn to uphold, cooperating with Nixon in his burglary jobs and illegal wiretapping. In 1975, congressional committees in the House [of Representatives] and Senate began investigations of both the FBI and CIA…It was also learned from the investigation that the CIA---with the collusion of a secret Committee of Forty headed by Henry Kissinger—had worked to ”destabilize” the Chilean government headed by Salvadore Allende , a Marxist who had been elected president in one of the rare free elections in Latin America.” (pp.554). For a more balanced view on the complicity of Kissinger and his role in U.S foreign policy, moreover his role in the death of Allende, see or read the acclaimed movie or book: The Trials Henry Kissinger.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
The rich man might just believe
He can buy all he ever wants
But he didn’t do it all alone
No matter how he flaunts.
The factory that bought him
His mansion and his yacht
Exists because he had plain folk
To build him what he’s got.
The litter bearers took him
Wherever he wanted to go.
The farmhands used their strength
To *** fields and make them grow.;
Mechanics and the engineers
Are who made his fine wheels turn.
So, why is this such a hard lesson
For the rich among us to learn?
Without us they are nothing,
Just overdressed blowhards
With rich antecedents and
A stacked deck of cards.
Not every poor person would
Know how to handle great wealth
But maybe could try if it weren't
For their talent and great stealth.
Something happens to rich people
When they deal with the poor.
They forget about their Bible
And what that teaching is for.
Some forget the Torah and
Yet others forget the Quran
As if those who speaks of decency
Are a political also-ran.
So I should be forgiven if I
Wish they fail at their work
And they have to toil in the field
Like those of us they call jerks.
I wish their wives had to
Patch their household clothes
Then pray the place they live in
Is not subject to be foreclosed.
We once had a government
That worked hard in our favor
To rescue us from carpetbaggers
But now they’re a much nastier flavor.
After almost a century of work
To build a nation for the common good
Programs are being thrown out by
A batch of Congressional deadwood.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
Hokum, poke ‘em
Fill ‘em full of lies.
Hokus pokus,
Tricking the unwise!
Hinkum dinkum,
Hear the trickster shout!
Joke seen; smokescreen,
Never will find out!
Two, four, six, eight
Stand up and holler
If you think Republican’ts
Should wear a shock collar.
Every time they bark a lie
They get it in the neck.
Maybe then the Democrats
Could fix the D.C. wreck.
Olly, olly, oxen fee
They’ll hang us from the Liberty Tree.
Huff and puff and blow them off
What a perfect thing to see.
If you want to hurt them
I’m sure it would be funny
If every time they lie
They loose most of their money.
Let’s all shout it together
Neener, neener, neener!
Check the Congressional ledger,
The Republicrooks of today?
None were ever meaner.
Isn’t it time we tell them
Nanny, nanny, boo boo?
After all, there’s no debate
They stuck us all in doodoo.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC