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"legislators" poems
I wrote a poem against gun violence because students should not have to go to school aching in fear of not making it home alive. I wrote a poem against gun violence because so many people are going to take their own lives today. I wrote a poem against gun violence because it targets women, minorities, to the point where they cannot be outside of their homes in the evenings. I wrote a poem against gun violence because too many veterans are at risk of dying by their own hands I wrote a poem against gun violence because mental health is SERIOUS I wrote a poem against gun violence because I am an aunt of two and I want my nephews to live full, happy lives I want to ask my legislators what they’re going to do when they come for their children Their spouses Nieces, and nephews Grandchildren Friends Call me a snowflake, if you will If that’s what standing for what’s right makes me, then I’m proud of it I’m the snowflake that wants you all to stay alive That stands for what’s right when they don’t have the guts to And sweetheart, this snowflake doesn’t melt
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC
A poem against gun violence
The young poet Evmenis complained one day to Theocritus: "I've been writing for two years now and I've composed only one idyll. It's my single completed work. I see, sadly, that the ladder of Poetry is tall, extremely tall; and from this first step I'm standing on now I'll never climb any higher." Theocritus retorted: "Words like that are improper, blasphemous. Just to be on the first step should make you happy and proud. To have reached this point is no small achievement: what you've done already is a wonderful thing. Even this first step is a long way above the ordinary world. To stand on this step you must be in your own right a member of the city of ideas. And it's a hard, unusual thing to be enrolled as a citizen of that city. Its councils are full of Legislators no charlatan can fool. To have reached this point is no small achievement: what you've done already is a wonderful thing."
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The First Step
they've been involving themselves in all sorts of corrupt deals and the ICAC is calling them in to give accounts of their underhanded deals many Labor politicians have fronted to tell their tales so have ****** figures who've left not so tidy trails the head of the commission is apprising himself with the corruption stealth the shady deals the money exchanges those fine upstanding legislators caught in the net rife these practices have been... and in time they've been seen to be not so clean dossiers on those who've had their hands in the defrauding game shall have them well cuffed and they'll only have themselves to blame
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:59 AM UTC
Corruption (Metaphor Poem)
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.
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
Why Obama Should Be Impeached
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.
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10
There exists a mystical and quadruple representation of words, which is likened to a dictatorial Superstate, where translation is subject to that which is spoken, heard, written and read within the context of trans-national capitalism. As we gaze from beyond the glow of the pulsating circumference, we can humbly acknowledge the ludicrous predicament of the many who are ruled by the few. The parameters of this earthen citizenship may be somewhat characterized by embracing the perceived benefits of the system and a state of financially intoxicated anosognosia. However, as we traverse this metaphysical cataclysm where the majority votes of public arrangement diametrically oppose absolute law and that which is deemed to be reasonable; our compulsory co-operation self-regulates with a cardiovascular beat of semantic propaganda and monopolized dissention, where the relinquished rights of our revered forefathers have been re-written by coercive legislators in the name of socio-political equality. The philosophy of meaning and political expression both buries into and removes her gorgeous face from the cuniform textures of Sahara catacombs, where we ****** relate and disengage from the **** with tyranny.
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Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
A Voluntary and Sophisticated Conformity?
LONELY TELEPHONE September 20, 1989 – London City teenagers hurling about within their lives Absurd places to live in, I feel Consequences never being understood And so, mindless action and devastating hurt ensues again And times are uncaring Didn’t you know? Walls bare, barren and sweating frightening you But why? Pay shall be low! So it was decreed By legislators light years Away from us So bleed on; Your brain is unaware Friends fade soon Opportunities sinister and momentary wanted you Lonely telephone That you gaze at In your gloomy, wet room Irrelevant information piles up within Recognizable faces mean little to you Glamorous personalities all conform Times are repetitive and cliché-like Humans! Growing older so soon? Days monotone continue passing by And so your life styles remain intact. ----
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Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 6:51 AM UTC
LONELY TELEPHONE - Ayad Gharbawi
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
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May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
Bugs Will Inherit the Earth
Parliament's headquarters--Back alley for smokes n' such. Politicians deliberating on the bread and the butter While the starving go hungry and the Truth begins to suffer. Never point to the signs on the wall 12 steps, Denial before the fall. Consumerist, zombie shuffle back to the car, the market's full up. Look for the polyethylene creamer. Metallic coated groceries For the plastic (PORTIS issued) consumer. "Coke is it" they would say as they take the morning grind (black/two sugar.) Racists make the sea of Policy makers and warmongers, Bathing in other's poverty, hunger and pain; Fearing death before the climb, G-d before the fall Slashing at the necks of basilisks until they turn to stone.   Blind and petrified to the core, I swear God, Parliament will smoke no more. Comes along the Harbinger, you've got one new message. Message one, There is no god, only me. I'm your Hypocrisy. Cry to an empty thought, kid the kidders, sin among sinners. Shamble back to Parliament's sanctuary, the legislators are in, Let Smokes n' Such begin.
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Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
Neurological Toxin (Or Internal Struggles with God)
You have your demagogic president-elect, Dreaming in shades of Mussolini And will sit in his downtown skyscraper and laugh that all the populists Were not in on the joke, And thus could not be in on the punchline. The progressives hotboxed the shower the night we handed the country to Trump. Pennsylvania, the center of the cataclysm. The vortex has opened and engulfed all the steel, All of the illegal immigrants have been scooped up and swallowed, Reproductive rights will be voided in a stacked Supreme Court validating the opinions of white male legislators. Tensions twisting to contort and ignore the onset realization That all progress is halted to return the country to the era of segregation, Deportation Gestapo formed with the lone intent to displace the children of those who dared to dream of a brighter life. America, look what you've done and face yourself with your objections. Look dead in your eyes and see all the minorities, tears in the diaries of closeted teenagers, And the judicial dread of the gentleman who only wants to live comfortably with his husband. You've made stepping stones of the counterculture, all crying in dorm rooms or next to their gardens, All together in sorrow. Underground America has been sold out, We're a social experiment for what can happen when sulfuric acid is poured upon the voiceless. The silent majority has shut us up. We've been yelling to change history and now are tracking back. Bigotry is back in style and I'm terrified.
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Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:22 PM UTC
And Now You Eat Your Cake.
You have your demagogic president-elect, Dreaming in shades of Mussolini And will sit in his downtown skyscraper and laugh that all the populists Were not in on the joke, And thus could not be in on the punchline. The progressives hotboxed the shower the night we handed the country to Trump. Pennsylvania, the center of the cataclysm. The vortex has opened and engulfed all the steel, All of the illegal immigrants have been scooped up and swallowed, Reproductive rights will be voided in a stacked Supreme Court validating the opinions of white male legislators. Tensions twisting to contort and ignore the onset realization That all progress is halted to return the country to the era of segregation, Deportation Gestapo formed with the lone intent to displace the children of those who dared to dream of a brighter life. America, look what you've done and face yourself with your objections. Look dead in your eyes and see all the minorities, tears in the diaries of closeted teenagers, And the judicial dread of the gentleman who only wants to live comfortably with his husband. You've made stepping stones of the counterculture, all crying in dorm rooms or next to their gardens, All together in sorrow. Underground America has been sold out, We're a social experiment for what can happen when sulfuric acid is poured upon the voiceless. The silent majority has shut us up. We've been yelling to change history and now are tracking back. Bigotry is back in style and I'm terrified.
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By: Cedric McClester Just another day Of gun violence and fear In the United States So by now it should be clear That our legislators Must not even care They haven’t taken action Since they’ve been in there Just another day Of gun violence and fear Permeating acrid smoke In the atmosphere Bodies lying motionless After the smoke clears And it’s happening so frequently We’ve run out of tears Just another day Of gun violence and fear But we’re not talking Middle East It’s happening right here Every week we seem to have Another cross to bare But the NRA will usually say That we shouldn’t despair Just another day Of gun violence and fear The question is how do we Make it disappear Before we meet our Armageddon In a clearing near If you have a good answer Would you care to share? Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
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Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
JUST ANOTHER DAY (OF GUN VIOLENCE AND FEAR)
Dear White Male Legislators, I had no idea you all have vaginas! It seems like you can all take them on and off At exactly the instances in which it benefits you politically. Perry, ******** Bright You all seem pretty concerned with making reproductive rights for women Fairly obsolete. Dear White Male Legislators, You see, we, as females, do not have the option Of running the other way if our partner gets pregnant Leaving her in the dust of our mistakes Being able to pay a fee every month Not because we care about our children But because it will keep our deadbeat ***** from seeing the inside of a jail cell No, we as women do not have those choices Men do. And our bodies are not made for your Political platform or religious debate No, our figures exist because we exist And we are people, too. Dear White Male Legislators, Our bodies are ours And they do not belong to a male-dominated government That seeks to attack them and by doing so Deems **** culture socially acceptable Without uttering a word about it. Dear White Male Legislators, Have you experienced the shame or stigma That comes along with even just visiting an abortion clinic's website? Clearly, if you are ***** and your abuser is not kind enough to use a ****** Not having your body shut down as you say and I quote happens during "Legitimate **** Putting yourself and your unborn descendent at risk if you deliver Having *** and being unable to deal with the unintended consequences Makes you a ***** a **** or a ***** While the man who put you in this position Cannot control his urges to knock up the first woman he finds even moderately attractive. Dear White Male Legislators, You must be pretty important If you can play God and judge all of these helpless women Call what they are doing a sin And **** them to Hell both In death and in life. Dear White Male Legislators, I hope you never get any woman pregnant Who hopes to be even slightly independent Or make any decisions on her own Especially if they involve the rights to her body. With you, She will be a byproduct of sexism And so will your offspring. Dear certain White Male Legislators, In closing, If you truly care about the good of our country and its people Never procreate.
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
Dear White Male Legislators
Dear White Male Legislators, I had no idea you all have vaginas! It seems like you can all take them on and off At exactly the instances in which it benefits you politically. Perry, ******** Bright You all seem pretty concerned with making reproductive rights for women Fairly obsolete. Dear White Male Legislators, You see, we, as females, do not have the option Of running the other way if our partner gets pregnant Leaving her in the dust of our mistakes Being able to pay a fee every month Not because we care about our children But because it will keep our deadbeat ***** from seeing the inside of a jail cell No, we as women do not have those choices Men do. And our bodies are not made for your Political platform or religious debate No, our figures exist because we exist And we are people, too. Dear White Male Legislators, Our bodies are ours And they do not belong to a male-dominated government That seeks to attack them and by doing so Deems **** culture socially acceptable Without uttering a word about it. Dear White Male Legislators, Have you experienced the shame or stigma That comes along with even just visiting an abortion clinic's website? Clearly, if you are ***** and your abuser is not kind enough to use a ****** Not having your body shut down as you say and I quote happens during "Legitimate **** Putting yourself and your unborn descendent at risk if you deliver Having *** and being unable to deal with the unintended consequences Makes you a ***** a **** or a ***** While the man who put you in this position Cannot control his urges to knock up the first woman he finds even moderately attractive. Dear White Male Legislators, You must be pretty important If you can play God and judge all of these helpless women Call what they are doing a sin And **** them to Hell both In death and in life. Dear White Male Legislators, I hope you never get any woman pregnant Who hopes to be even slightly independent Or make any decisions on her own Especially if they involve the rights to her body. With you, She will be a byproduct of sexism And so will your offspring. Dear certain White Male Legislators, In closing, If you truly care about the good of our country and its people Never procreate.
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55
A distrust of details… Ample amounts of reporting, And eroding authority; More freeze-thaw cycles, Upswells, dead zones. Early signs Wash up onto the shore, as the Earth’s core continues to warm. Hurricanes play mercilessly with Uninsured lives, and earthquakes Evolve from tickles to fissures. Snow disappears from Whole mountainsides. The floodgates HAVE opened, temperatures ARE Rising; Perception is always partial but there’s plenty of evidence, regardless - When we start to question the record-keepers And legislators, those omitting parts of history; People who willingly walk into the sun, selfishly Sidestep the natural order and equilibrium of all things, Exactly where does that journey end? I think, somewhere around the place Where we start to forge our own histories, Or indifference begins.
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Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:37 AM UTC
Indifference Begins
I spoke with two people at the party Saturday. A young police officer, short-haired, fit, chiseled face who had two young children. He felt constrained by the law, without discretion to question mopes (perps) aggressively or to let go those who were obviously no threat. Even at a family function he seemed straight-backed, correct, devoted to his role as our protector (and his children’s) yet I thought perhaps too deeply in debt, indentured to the rules and laws of legislators and destined to be disappointed (or worse). I thought his courage and devotion (to whom or what?) would surely be poorly repaid and that this lesson was necessary to ready him with wisdom for death or further living. I worried like a brother about the unpredictable dangers, even terrors, he must daily face, and the pleasure he takes in facing them. How will he return to the fragility of family, of the soul alone, after wielding the force of the state, the blind, combined will of us all? Next a business exec, retired from a well known global investment firm. At first we talked about the lush beauty of the northeast compared to the arid west (although he loves every inch of the west, too). Then somehow we got beyond light conversation when he complained about the perceived decline in values for instance how the Ten Commandments can’t be publicly displayed. He said we can all agree on God but I said I have a mechanistic view of the universe (although the unknowable always sits just out of reach of the known). I told him my dad’s theory of reincarnation, a good man and a corporate seeker of God also, whose shoes I could never fill unless I swore belief in a supreme being. No hard feelings. Then he told me the story of his dying friend, an atheist, not even a deist like the founding fathers, who opened his eyes for the last time to correct the exec’s misperception that now he’d meet his maker. Having exceeded the bounds of acceptable conversation I went looking for my children. Nothing more to question.
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Oct 11, 2022
Oct 11, 2022 at 7:27 AM UTC
At a Party
I spoke with two people at the party Saturday. A young police officer, short-haired, fit, chiseled face who had two young children. He felt constrained by the law, without discretion to question mopes (perps) aggressively or to let go those who were obviously no threat. Even at a family function he seemed straight-backed, correct, devoted to his role as our protector (and his children’s) yet I thought perhaps too deeply in debt, indentured to the rules and laws of legislators and destined to be disappointed (or worse). I thought his courage and devotion (to whom or what?) would surely be poorly repaid and that this lesson was necessary to ready him with wisdom for death or further living. I worried like a brother about the unpredictable dangers, even terrors, he must daily face, and the pleasure he takes in facing them. How will he return to the fragility of family, of the soul alone, after wielding the force of the state, the blind, combined will of us all? Next a business exec, retired from a well known global investment firm. At first we talked about the lush beauty of the northeast compared to the arid west (although he loves every inch of the west, too). Then somehow we got beyond light conversation when he complained about the perceived decline in values for instance how the Ten Commandments can’t be publicly displayed. He said we can all agree on God but I said I have a mechanistic view of the universe (although the unknowable always sits just out of reach of the known). I told him my dad’s theory of reincarnation, a good man and a corporate seeker of God also, whose shoes I could never fill unless I swore belief in a supreme being. No hard feelings. Then he told me the story of his dying friend, an atheist, not even a deist like the founding fathers, who opened his eyes for the last time to correct the exec’s misperception that now he’d meet his maker. Having exceeded the bounds of acceptable conversation I went looking for my children. Nothing more to question.
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39
I dont know if it was because of the book you were reading Or if it was because the curvature of your sloped spine insinuated you were tired Or maybe it was because you just looked lonely But, you looked like you could write poetry it could’ve been the pen marks on your fingers Or the tan lines across your neck But eyes like that don’t just sit down Eyes like that start fires in my cheeks And picket signs in my chest And **** off legislators But more importantly they make me want to write I don’t know if it was the way your jaw clenched you Or the way your tongue bit your teeth But you looked like you could recite poetry And even worse, I wanted to listen I wanted to be your commitee, outreach, moral support I wanted to be your pen, paper, microphone, clothes on your back I wanted to be anything that touched your skin, touching me You’re least favorite feeling is when your holding back tears and your face is about to explode There’s reasons why the clouds look so heavy before falling God can hold so much in You said you don’t believe in luck, but you’re a firm believer in hope That three leaf clovers weren’t done growing when they were plucked That when a lady bug didn’t land on your hand, A premature baby somewhere is using his grasp his mother’s finger For the first time I want to hear the poetry that you’ll write about the spaces between your fingers It will be the closest i’ll ever get to holding them you were born an angry baby. with tears in your eyes But i use to poetry to say they weren’t angry. just eyes dancing.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
you looked like a poem
I dont know if it was because of the book you were reading Or if it was because the curvature of your sloped spine insinuated you were tired Or maybe it was because you just looked lonely But, you looked like you could write poetry it could’ve been the pen marks on your fingers Or the tan lines across your neck But eyes like that don’t just sit down Eyes like that start fires in my cheeks And picket signs in my chest And **** off legislators But more importantly they make me want to write I don’t know if it was the way your jaw clenched you Or the way your tongue bit your teeth But you looked like you could recite poetry And even worse, I wanted to listen I wanted to be your commitee, outreach, moral support I wanted to be your pen, paper, microphone, clothes on your back I wanted to be anything that touched your skin, touching me You’re least favorite feeling is when your holding back tears and your face is about to explode There’s reasons why the clouds look so heavy before falling God can hold so much in You said you don’t believe in luck, but you’re a firm believer in hope That three leaf clovers weren’t done growing when they were plucked That when a lady bug didn’t land on your hand, A premature baby somewhere is using his grasp his mother’s finger For the first time I want to hear the poetry that you’ll write about the spaces between your fingers It will be the closest i’ll ever get to holding them you were born an angry baby. with tears in your eyes But i use to poetry to say they weren’t angry. just eyes dancing.
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I dreamed the day finally arrived When ALL people realized And understood why Donald Trump Deserved to be so despised. People everywhere saw through His empty words, his lies, his act, His bigoted, odious promises, His thought process so inexact. No one acknowledged his asinine tweets Or listened to his divisive rants. No one went to his vacuous rallies And started shouting racist chants. No one let him- or herself Be duped by the man's endless stream Of worthless gibberish and hateful talk That once made non-supporters scream. Our country had respect again From countries worthy of respect. Foreign relations were also mended After having suffered neglect. No longer did we admire Autocrats and dictators. We looked up to our allies and praised Diplomatic negotiators. The voices of white supremacy Were drowned by voices of love and inclusion. Voting rights would be protected. That became a foregone conclusion. Russia and other countries couldn't Interfere with our elections. All people living in The U.S. had equal protections. Religious freedom meant that people Could practice beliefs across the nation And NOT use religion as A handy excuse for discrimination. Clean air and clean water Became a focus, AND what's more, Climate change wasn't considered A silly hoax that we should ignore. Children were not separated From parents at our border gate. People weren't dehumanized And made to feel second rate. The taxation system was fair And benefited not only the wealthy. Everyone had health insurance With emphasis on being healthy. To presidential abuse of power Legislators said farewell. And egomaniacal Donald Trump Languished in a prison cell. What a dream--what a vision-- Where joyous hopes began anew! If only it could come to fruition! It would be a dream come true. -by Bob B (7-19-19)
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Jul 19, 2019
Jul 19, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC
A Dream Come True
I dreamed the day finally arrived When ALL people realized And understood why Donald Trump Deserved to be so despised. People everywhere saw through His empty words, his lies, his act, His bigoted, odious promises, His thought process so inexact. No one acknowledged his asinine tweets Or listened to his divisive rants. No one went to his vacuous rallies And started shouting racist chants. No one let him- or herself Be duped by the man's endless stream Of worthless gibberish and hateful talk That once made non-supporters scream. Our country had respect again From countries worthy of respect. Foreign relations were also mended After having suffered neglect. No longer did we admire Autocrats and dictators. We looked up to our allies and praised Diplomatic negotiators. The voices of white supremacy Were drowned by voices of love and inclusion. Voting rights would be protected. That became a foregone conclusion. Russia and other countries couldn't Interfere with our elections. All people living in The U.S. had equal protections. Religious freedom meant that people Could practice beliefs across the nation And NOT use religion as A handy excuse for discrimination. Clean air and clean water Became a focus, AND what's more, Climate change wasn't considered A silly hoax that we should ignore. Children were not separated From parents at our border gate. People weren't dehumanized And made to feel second rate. The taxation system was fair And benefited not only the wealthy. Everyone had health insurance With emphasis on being healthy. To presidential abuse of power Legislators said farewell. And egomaniacal Donald Trump Languished in a prison cell. What a dream--what a vision-- Where joyous hopes began anew! If only it could come to fruition! It would be a dream come true. -by Bob B (7-19-19)
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57
What are we doing right now to save our teenage girls and boys Out on city streets selling their bodies and being treated like Throwaway toys. We need to raise protesting voices to our legislators And really make some voting noise in an effort to save The unprotected children every girl and boy. This is a daily problem in Our country. We see with open eyes our children hurting and dying And far to wise. We owe it to all of our children in Philadelphia And around the world a clean and loving childhood every boy and girl Human life people, should not be viewed as cheap Far to many are dying away from home on the mean and ***** streets And before you lay a tired head down to sleep tonight In your warm and clean bed, what about the children?
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Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
What About The Children? By Victor Tripp
By: Cedric McClester The profit motive inspires our lust Money is the god in which we trust And justice hasn’t ever been for us Seems like all the breaks Go to the upper crust Those on Wall Street love to speculate On the backs of the middle class Who must carry the freight Prisons now are being run for profit State legislatures casually adopt it Increasingly more states are tryin’ to cop it Is there anyone, anywhere to stop it Neo-slavery has become big business Avarice and greed caused them to rig this And none among us can afford to ig’ this Is it necessary for me to go down the pig list As legislators continue to shoot the breeze Like an orange Puerto Rico has been squeezed And Islanders are forced to beg the US please They’d just like a chance to get up off their knees Prisons now are being run for profit State legislatures casually adopt it Increasingly more states are tryin’ to cop it Is there anyone, anywhere to stop it Some clearly might question Has the deck been stacked Against a certain class of people Who have been attacked And if they had the resources They seem to lack They might be better equipped To fight back There are certain facts here I’ve tried to expose That have been camouflaged For how long God only knows It’s high time they’re revealed I would suppose And that’s the role here That I must have chose Prisons now are being run for profit State legislatures casually adopt it Increasingly more states are tryin’ to cop it Is there anyone, anywhere to stop it The profit motive inspires our lust Money is the god in which we trust And justice hasn’t ever been for us Seems like all the breaks Go to the upper crust Those on Wall Street love to speculate On the backs of the middle class Who must carry the freight Cedric McClester Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
FOR PROFIT
By: Cedric McClester The profit motive inspires our lust Money is the god in which we trust And justice hasn’t ever been for us Seems like all the breaks Go to the upper crust Those on Wall Street love to speculate On the backs of the middle class Who must carry the freight Prisons now are being run for profit State legislatures casually adopt it Increasingly more states are tryin’ to cop it Is there anyone, anywhere to stop it Neo-slavery has become big business Avarice and greed caused them to rig this And none among us can afford to ig’ this Is it necessary for me to go down the pig list As legislators continue to shoot the breeze Like an orange Puerto Rico has been squeezed And Islanders are forced to beg the US please They’d just like a chance to get up off their knees Prisons now are being run for profit State legislatures casually adopt it Increasingly more states are tryin’ to cop it Is there anyone, anywhere to stop it Some clearly might question Has the deck been stacked Against a certain class of people Who have been attacked And if they had the resources They seem to lack They might be better equipped To fight back There are certain facts here I’ve tried to expose That have been camouflaged For how long God only knows It’s high time they’re revealed I would suppose And that’s the role here That I must have chose Prisons now are being run for profit State legislatures casually adopt it Increasingly more states are tryin’ to cop it Is there anyone, anywhere to stop it The profit motive inspires our lust Money is the god in which we trust And justice hasn’t ever been for us Seems like all the breaks Go to the upper crust Those on Wall Street love to speculate On the backs of the middle class Who must carry the freight Cedric McClester Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.
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54
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.
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Oct 27, 2024
Oct 27, 2024 at 1:44 PM UTC
Basket of Deplorables
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.
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38
The White House game of musical chairs continues. Trump has once again a change of taste. Rex Tillerson, who has been serving as his Secretary of State, is being replaced. The new appointee will be Mike Pompeo-- A sycophantic yes-man through and through. Trump will soon have the cabinet he wants, He says--in short, his loyal retinue. Why always this constant change of heart? Why not pick the right ones from the start? The personal assistant to the president Was walked off White House grounds without his jacket. He must have done something pretty outrageous. Take THAT political nut and try to crack it! Serious financial crimes appeared To be the cause of McEntee's removal. But he now has a job on Trump's campaign; So much he has the president's approval! Such a move: could you call it smart, Knowing what we know from the start? House Republicans investigating The Russia connection say the case is closed Without having conducted a thorough query. Their true motivations have been exposed. How sad when our legislators' desires To seek out truth and clarity are sparse, And favoring Party over the American people, They turn an investigation into a farce! Republicans on the committee did their part To sabotage the process from the start. -by Bob B (3-14-18)
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
From the Start
He was, to be sure, very impressive indeed, His bearing and carriage not of someone on his way As much as one who had truly arrived: Sleek, self-assured, possessing the calm of one Who fully understands just how powerful he is, One who has not embraced the company culture As much as self-immersed in it, To the point where it has so permeated his structure That is hard to tell where he begins and it ends. And yet, there is something unsettling there, The odd non sequiturs, disturbing enough In their utter and unconscious wrong-headedness, But even more so In the motorized, perfunctory method of their delivery, As if it were obvious that it is we who are clearly incorrect. Some three hours of drive time away, Past any number of Holiday Inn Expresses, Past numerous faded and shuttered Catskill resorts, A handful of people carrying standard-issue banker’s boxes Containing the detritus of twenty or thirty years of work Exit the vestigial office the company maintains in its birthplace (Only there as a nod to history, a sop to the locals and legislators.) We hate to lose good people, The HR person who drove up for the occasion Intones solemnly to a handful of reporters Who slouch nonchalantly in folding chairs Scattered about a small, Seventies-wood-paneled conference room, *But there are certain market inefficiencies at work, International incidents, kinks in the supply chain, Other anomalies the forecasting tools And business models couldn’t have foreseen*. And as he speaks, one of the newly superfluous Wordlessly enters her car, pointing it homeward, Across the sluggish, ice-clogged Susquehanna traversing a bridge Commemorating a giant of cash registers and calculators.
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Sep 21, 2021
Sep 21, 2021 at 12:25 PM UTC
what is toronto?
He was, to be sure, very impressive indeed, His bearing and carriage not of someone on his way As much as one who had truly arrived: Sleek, self-assured, possessing the calm of one Who fully understands just how powerful he is, One who has not embraced the company culture As much as self-immersed in it, To the point where it has so permeated his structure That is hard to tell where he begins and it ends. And yet, there is something unsettling there, The odd non sequiturs, disturbing enough In their utter and unconscious wrong-headedness, But even more so In the motorized, perfunctory method of their delivery, As if it were obvious that it is we who are clearly incorrect. Some three hours of drive time away, Past any number of Holiday Inn Expresses, Past numerous faded and shuttered Catskill resorts, A handful of people carrying standard-issue banker’s boxes Containing the detritus of twenty or thirty years of work Exit the vestigial office the company maintains in its birthplace (Only there as a nod to history, a sop to the locals and legislators.) We hate to lose good people, The HR person who drove up for the occasion Intones solemnly to a handful of reporters Who slouch nonchalantly in folding chairs Scattered about a small, Seventies-wood-paneled conference room, *But there are certain market inefficiencies at work, International incidents, kinks in the supply chain, Other anomalies the forecasting tools And business models couldn’t have foreseen*. And as he speaks, one of the newly superfluous Wordlessly enters her car, pointing it homeward, Across the sluggish, ice-clogged Susquehanna traversing a bridge Commemorating a giant of cash registers and calculators.
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34
working at the bookstore, searching for the words though I’m 49 still at times a Theo-nerd poetry beats prose it’s a truth some cannot face the unacknowledged legislators of the human race Shelley was quite right a Pythagorean who could own it the music is the mystery from the sacred silence shown it so write your verse quite carefully and sing from your deep heart future folk will listen and live by your true art
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
silent pause, poetic laws