Tag Archives: Political commentary

Wise Men and Fools


Wise Men and Fools

Pompous men and religious zealots rush into the fray
professing as the solid truth speculations they
determine to be necessary for things to be righted
and other fools support them because they are short-sighted.
But wisdom is as wisdom does and not as wisdom thinks.
It floats up to the surface when foolishness just sinks.
It tends toward calm and practical when flightier heads turn manic
and is irreconcilable with discord and with panic.

Fools may build vain edifices reaching to the skies
that are palatial prisons—follies in disguise.
In time of war, a bunker furnishes more protection,
offering a wiser choice to screen us from detection.
Fools raise their hands and wave at us, inviting their own end,
standing straight and rigid when a wiser man might bend.
Fools rush in where sages might not speculate,
instead letting  the evidence sit and percolate.

Sages, fools and charlatans mixed up in the fray.
For those who cannot tell the difference, now we’ll all have to pay.

 

Prompt words for today are wisdom, irreconcilable, practical and palatial.

Playing with Matches

Playing with Matches

A family of good repute,
attractive, rich and most astute,
they were nonetheless resistant,
stubborn, pig-headed, persistent
in the planet’s sure demise.
It should have come as no surprise
when they chose to politicize,
using that influence money buys
to become candidates who chose
to rape and pillage, preen and pose
but did not care a single whit
about the planet, but ravaged it.

They paid for monetary gains
with forest fires and hurricanes.
Cared only for self-serving wealth,
forfeiting safety, and the health
of thousands who fell to the threat
of pestilence and grief and debt.
What cared they of the good of those
who didn’t sport designer clothes—
who hobnobbed with the hoi polloi
so lacking in finesse and joy?

And so politicos and cronies,
ministers and other phonies,
rap stars, lawyers, politicians
fed their spoils to the morticians.
That triangle of greed and crassness
together with the cruel vastness
of their dishonesty and greed,
like a virus commenced to breed
foment in what used to be
a bastion of democracy.

Kids in cages, plagues that flourished—
who cared if the undernourished
perished to the awful swell
so long as billionaires were well?
For four long years their riches grew,
feeding on the likes of you!
The monarch yielded royal scepter
as the inept grew  still inepter,
ruling with a heedless hand
to rape the populace and land.

Until the nation finally turned
and, finally, travesty spurned,
kicked out the dolt and started to
restore order to the zoo.
Trump’s hand finally overtrumped,
his evil minions finally bumped
from positions they never mastered,
thrown on the junk heap with the bastard!
The whole world hopes we’ve finally learned
those who play with matches are burned!!!!

 

Sorry, but the prompt words made me create one last rant. I hope this subject is now closed! Prompt words today are triangle, planet, persistent and repute.

The Political Extinction of the White American Dinosaur

Don’t miss this excellent and hopeful analysis of the contemporary state of the union! And don’t we hope he is right? Click on link below:

https://johnpavlovitz.com/2019/01/04/the-extinction-of-the-white-american-dinosaur/

Been There, Don That!!!

Been There, Don That!

I wouldn’t give a nickel, I wouldn’t give a tuppence
to save our expired president from his earned comeuppance.
His service contract’s over. He will not get another.
And hopefully Ivanka won’t, nor will her older brother.
They’ll no doubt muddle on in life, spending their father’s millions,
living on a credit line, maintaining they have billions.
A new guy’s in the White House and we hope he might
prompt a more irenic phase to save us from our plight.
He doesn’t shoot endangered species or found charities to plunder—
proof that future national elections need not echo our past blunder!!!

Prompt words today are muddle, service, comeuppance and irenic. (Irenice=prompting peace or reconciliation.) Image by Jose M. on Unsplash. Used with permission.

“That” Girl

“That” Girl

I imagine her a gabble-ratchet, such a vocal child—
talkative and stubborn, clever, loud and wild.
Loyal to her friends, solid without a glitch.
It was not her way to waffle or to snitch.
All who entered her domain followed where she led.
If they were her arms and legs, surely, she was their head,
ruling her world with personality and *wit.
All her minions swarmed around to be part of it.
If her town had had a castle, she’d have been its resident.
Instead she had to just make do with Vice-president!

 

*”Why is KamalaHarris the only person that laughs at her jokes… always way to long and way too hard?” Mr Trump’s son asked. “You wouldn’t know a joke if one raised you,” she wrote back.

Prompt words today are president, snitch, gabble-ratchet and personality. Image by Kiana Bosman on Unsplash, used with permission.

GABBLE-RATCHET. As well as being an old English dialect word for a noisy child, a gabble-ratchet is any nocturnal bird (particularly geese) that makes a lot of noise at night, once considered to be an ill omen.

Knowing

Knowing

We cast long shadows in the sun,
but shorter as the day is done,
and when we shrink into our selves,
placing  our souls upon their shelves,
what shadows last? Are our souls
made of  Teflon or are they bowls?
The world’s vendettas should be left
back in the wide world lest their heft
leave our spotless souls bereft
and our inner natures cleft.

Those whom we honor with boundless fame
and lionize in face and name
might sport a very great divide
if we were to see inside—
their nature split  between what they
profess to be—what they might say
and what their true intentions are.
Their true motives might be far
from what we perceive as their intentions.
We cannot know a soul’s dimensions
except by looking at the facts
of how the outer person acts.

What they profess that they believe
may often be used to deceive.
But heart-to-heart, it is absurd
to think truth is conveyed by word.
Some part of us knows deeper meaning
devoid of boasting, strutting, preening.
The soul requires no advertisement,
seeks no excess aggrandizement.
In our soul of souls we know
what is authentic and what’s for show.
That shadow that we cast without

within has very little clout.

 

This poem is both a commentary and assessment of those who have lately been much in the arena and about ourselves–including myself.

Prompt words today are long shadows, vendetta and lionize.

Beached

Beached

Snug in his nest in Mar-a-Lago he wonders
how to invest the additional plunders
he’s gained in his years of selling his favor.
He ponders his ice cream and wonders what flavor
they delivered today with his fries and Big Mac.
He gives it a lick and then gives a loud quack.
He’s big duck in this puddle, so does not know why
past cronies of his keep passing him by
avoiding eye contact. Do they not recall
how he was the single best POTUS of all?

Where are all of his partners in crime and dissent?
Can anyone tell him where they all went?
Where’s Ivanka?  Where’s Jared? On to their next steal?
Don’t they know he invented the art of the deal?
Once they jumped to his dictates as head of state.
Did other past presidents share the same fate?
Did Jefferson suffer a similar plight?
Did Washington sit alone every night
while Martha took off with her nightclubbing friends?
Did other great men meet with similar ends?

His last month in office he took a great scalding.
He’s lonely, obese and orange and balding.
He’s plummeted earthwards from such a great height
that all  of his minions should share in his plight,
yet they’ve all gone on to lives of their own,
leaving him here to pine on his throne. 
But what is the reason for his blatant smirking?
Can it possibly be that without even working
he’ll draw a huge pension for the rest of his life,
plus a travel allowance for him and his wife?

 

Prompt words for the day are dissent, snug, smirk and blatant. Images thanks to Unsplash. Used with permission.

Still on the Nickel?

Still on the Nickel?

Four hundred thousand for a pension, a million for his travel.
More for his security, McConnell, pound your gavel.

Give him not a penny. Not a nickel nor a dime.

He deserves no further payment for his life of crime.

May the senate use its Trump card to deal out his comeuppance.
When it comes to a pension, he should get nary a tuppence.

We’re tired of his finagling, the lies and all the trouble.
It’s time we drew the needle out to burst his four-year bubble.

If I may be pauciloquent, I’ll simply say, “IMPEACH!!!”
Finally do the right thing. Kick out the sonnofabeach!!!!!!

Prompt words today are comeuppance, trouble, pauciloquent (terse, using few words) and finagle.
“On the Nickel” in this context means “On the dole.” The Nickel is a street in San Francisco where a lot of homeless hang out. That Trump should have his hand out for further entitlements after his term is over just seems unconscionable to me. Let him earn his own nickels from now on. Impeachment will insure this. Here is one of my favorite Tom Waits songs that I drew my title from.

Winds of Change

 

Winds of Change

I’m picking at my cuticles and gnawing on my nails.
The winds behind my worries are puffing out their sails.
Operation Trump-bump may require a necromancer
to resurrect some aid to rid us of this monster’s cancer.

Lincoln, Roosevelt and Truman may have words to tell
how to rid our country of the past four years of Hell.
I’m eager to be rid of them and feel some consternation
over just how long it’s taken for this operation.

May less self-serving leaders at this long-awaited date
seize the wheel and take control of our ship of state.
May our country come together, most hoping for the best
and set our past divisions, hopefully, to rest.

 

 

Prompt words today are gnaw, operation, picking and eager.