Tag Archives: political poem

Bird Chorus

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and came closer to the bait

Bird Chorus

Birds perch on countless branches, each a separate bell
ringing out the cadence of stories they must tell.
Around them, eerie silence, for no other sounds compete.
No calls of children playing. No pattering of feet

up and down the pavement. No playing girls and boys,
for all the busy humans, infamous for their noise,
are staying in their houses and no amount of blustering
from their scattered leaders is bound to stop their clustering.

Families draw in closer as friends all fade away
into their particular intentions for the day.
Offices turn cyber. Schools are merely screens.
Mothers sit at kitchen tables, perusing magazines.

Fathers pace on carpets and worry about money.
How are they to make it now that the world’s gone funny?
Now and then, the silence split open by a bell
tolling for the human race who haven’t done too well

at going with the scheme of things. They prefer to take over,
making malls and parking lots out of fields of clover.
Trashing up the landscape. Peppering the tide
with their plastic mountains grown too big to hide.

Is it any wonder how nature responds?
We’ve held her prisoner long enough. She’s sloughing off her bonds.
She’s given us broad hints, but still we do not mind her.
So she’s erasing her mistakes and putting us behind her.

 

Prompt words today are countless branches, amount, eerie, infamous and bell.

Good Riddance?

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Good Riddance

They’re trying to railroad us, set us adrift
so we’ll never close this incredible rift.
They’ll write our obituaries, every one
It started the day that reason was done .
We surrendered control to the men who let cash
prompt their decisions most foolish and rash.

The delicate balance of nature upended,
they pillaged the earth until it grew offended
and began to fight back through hurricanes, fire,
droughts, floods, marine deaths and then acts more dire.
When all these disasters failed to inspire us,
her weapon became the coronavirus.

Now they flounder on, our greedy politicians,
less leaders than they are our nation’s morticians.
They stew about markets, fuss over the Dow.
As ever, cash profits are their sacred cow.
While those who must vote to try to defeat them
are all prisoners of home with no way to unseat them.

Can you not see the end with wildlife in the streets,
stampeding down pavement, their hollow hoof beats
like drums that announce humanity’s end?
What messages might they possibly send?
The earth isn’t dependent on mankind to thrive.
When we are long gone, nature will survive.  

Words for the day are delicate, dependent, obituary, adrift and railroad. https://reflectionsofanuntidymind.blog/

Animals Invade Cities As People Quarantine Themselves At Home.
Read the Story Here:  https://www.boredpanda.com/animals-in-streets-during-coronavirus-quarantine/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic

 

Damning Science

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Damning Science

Wisdom newly learned or tribal,
from Koran or Scroll or Bible
demarcates a line between
what shouldn’t or what should be seen
or said or listened to or done.
No matter how seemingly fun,
some things cannot be integrated.
No masterpiece is tolerated
if banned by the censor’s tool.
Thus do bigots thrive and rule
spouting truths long since belied—
asserting them as bonafide.


These half-truths to reason’s sorrow
may dictate how we live tomorrow—
our whole world screwed up by some fools
who bend the laws to their own rules,
spouting words skewed to their favor,
creating slogans dullards savor.
There is one rule for what the zealots shout.
After you have heard them out,
use your good sense to judge the acts
of those determining the facts.
Use your powers of reason to test
those who rule at our behest.

Prompt words today are masterpiece, tribal, integrated and demarcate

Unnamed

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Unnamed

Perhaps it was a blunder. He could be a stubborn mule.
A myriad of actions branded him a fool.
Scarce as they were, his virtues always managed to redeem him.
Some fools with little foresight even seemed to quite esteem him.
Still, a vulture is a vulture, and his dark side always won.
Self-serving minions always saved him when the day was done.
How do these soulless tyrants ever rise to power?
How long before he topples from his golden tower?

dim Jim Kim Limb rim stem tim vim  beam seem dcream seem team ream esteem him.

Prompt words today are blunder, scarce, vulture, myriad and mule.

Raw Truth

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Raw Truth

Some think this holy gift of life should be lived as austere,
while others make a game of it, maintaining that it’s clear
that life’s to be enjoyed in all its possibilities,
and so as long as no one’s harmed, you should live it as you please.

Still others think life consists of all that you can glean.
Leaving nothing for the others, they pick the landscape clean.
Prone to public office, they’re suffused with artifice,
content that the dull masses will not see their avarice.

Considering their blindness, do folks get what they deserve—
growing ever leaner as the masters that they serve—
the very ones who should serve them get rich and ever fatter—
focused on the truth that they’re the only ones who matter?

The prompts today are clear, holy, austere and game.

Bail to the Chief

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Photo by Deleece Cook on Unsplash

Bail to the Chief

The prediction is most likely. His surfing days are through.
Lies never imperceptible are sticking now like glue.
His lobbyists don’t have enough cash to hide the fact
that the power they once lauded is folding up its act.

His juggling days are near an end. The balls litter the ground
of the White House where he juggled them. They’re lying all around.
His circus act soon over, those who lauded him must see
that all of his maneuverings were based on trickery.

The wave that brought him into power was fueled by deception
traitorous in its acting out and vile in its conception.
Here’s a chief we want to oust and cannot bear to hail.
The oval office does not suit him. He’d be better off in jail.

Photo by Avalonia on Unsplash.

Prompt words today are imperceptible, lobby, prediction, laud, and surfing.

Donald Trump Tweets from Hell

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photo thanks to James Lee on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Donald Trump Tweets from Hell

With tardy regrets I come to you, now knowing what is best,
for there are things I simply must get off my chest.
You may wonder at my timing, and you may find it strange
that I should choose the afterlife to make this last exchange.
In life I was a basket case and I too easily yielded
to the influence of cronies and the power that they wielded
to make me go along with what my wealthiest peers wanted.
I blustered and I blathered. I acquired and I flaunted.

But now that I’ve departed, I must say that I’ve regrets.
I should have done the right thing. (I should have hedged my bets.)
For though my life on earth was one of privilege and ease,
I do not find the afterlife all that I might please.
The climate here is much too hot—perpetually baking,
but the greatest agony is that it is of my own making.
It seems that merely proclaiming that I’m on the Christian side
does not actually serve me in saving my own hide.

I realize now that actions must reflect what I profess.
What in life I overlooked, in death I now confess.
I did not serve the common man. I made him pay and pay
by cutting corporate taxes and courting the N.R.A.
I put children in cages, I lusted and I lied.
I turned my back on science as the planet slowly died.
But now  I cannot call fake news all that they accuse
and with no golf courses in Hell,  I finally pay my dues.

PhotPhoto by Jon Tyson on Unsplash. Used with permission.

He may profess to be sorry, but he’s still a rule-breaker. His tweet definitely far exceeds the space limitations of Twitter!

Today’s prompts are: Chest, Basket, Regret, Strange and Yield.

 

Karma

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Screen Shot 2019-10-25 at 9.22.14 AM.pngphoto by Darren Halstea, Unsplash. Used w/ permission

Karma

Can we extricate ourselves from all the evil we may we do,
or once we meet our maker will fate drop the other shoe
and will the evil we have done be visited on us?
On our journey to Nirvana, will we have missed the bus?

Will we be held accountable for all that we have done?
Once our life is over, will atonement have its fun?
Will there just be the help for us that we’ve given to others,
so our lack of mercy toward enemies and brothers
will be visited upon us, in spite of all our pleas—
past cruelties unfurled on us as we beg on our knees?

How many lifetimes will it take to extricate our being
from the fate we’ve set in motion? How long ’til we’ll be seeing
that the future ills we suffer are the ills we’ve done the world,
and in each evil act, our own future was unfurled.

Prompts this week are accountable, total, Karma, extricate and help.

Pot Luck (Copacetic in Retirement)

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Pot Luck
(Copacetic in Retirement)

We’re copacetic in retirement. It’s like back in the days
when pot first hit the sixties and our minds were in a haze.
Drugs made our dreaming groovy and our lives peripatetic.
Our clothes were loose and festive. Every day was copacetic.

With time to watch the raindrops dripping drip by drip,
we took life with a grain of salt. Worrying was unhip.
So now life’s cycled back again. Desperate days are done.
We don’t have to fight the traffic. We have more time for fun.

Once more, drugs are ubiquitous, although a different type,
with a pill for every malady, an herb for every gripe.
Now that they’re legalizing cannabis, we’re drowning in fine weed—
a type for every malady. A strain for every need.

Do they think if we’re sedated, we won’t notice what they’re doing?
Will it censor our displeasure? Will it stifle all our booing
as they reduce our Medicare to supplement their yachts,
will they recycle our dinero from the “have-nots” to the “gots?”

Perhaps they want us copacetic, for at last it meets their need
to sedate the angry masses and cover up their greed.
A car in every garage and a chicken in every pot
Got Herbert Hoover elected. Did he do it? He did not!

Now when we apply for licenses, sometimes they merely balk
and say to call a taxi, an Uber or just walk.
They’re cutting our “entitlements,” so we don’t have a lot
left to buy the chicken, but at least we have the pot!!

The prompts today are ubiquity,  drip, desperate, festivities, copacetic.

H-e-e-e-re’s Donald!

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samantha-sophia-8bLGxhsR8sY-unsplashImage by Samanta Sabina on Unsplash, used with permission

H-e-e-e-re’s Donald!

Our nation’s growing jittery. It seems our ruler’s broken.
In the land of liberty, freedom is just a token.
Surrounded by his family, his fumbling words are brisk.
He issues crazy edicts, putting the world at risk.
As he pens crude letters to men of more distinction,
we cower in our houses. fearing mass extinction.
He poo-poos all our scientists. The climate’s doing fine.
Who cares if the whole planet is headed for decline?
Glaciers swiftly melting. Forest fires raging.
He overlooks the hurricanes, intent upon his caging.
Children are the biggest risk, so he sends them packing.
Makes military decisions with very little backing.
On his situation comedy played on the largest screen,
he spins out the same old story: our country has grown mean.

Prompt words for today are broken, ruler, jittery, brisk and family.