Here is a list of Political / Social Poems ordered by Most Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
White soldier of a black president
White soldier of a black president
Black criminal in a white man prison
Russian spies the government lies
The only question we don’t ask is
why?
Black criminal in a white man prison
Russian spies the government lies
The only question we don’t ask is
why?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2011
About this poem:
As the countries people, we know nothing about our countries actions.
Returning her to herself...
I think God made a mistake,
He gave me six daughters,
But a daughter is the greatest gift any man can ever hope to receive,
I’ll never know why God entrusted me with so many,
I got out my car and took my 2nd little daughter’s hand to go into the supermarket,
She could not have been older than two, maybe even younger,
I watched her tenderly as she walked beside me,
She looked at my arm then at hers,
Then blurted out:
“Hey, I have hair on my arms, just like my daddy…”
I hugged her and showered her with kisses, laughter sweetly surrounding us…,
One of the happier moments…
A woman is a very special living thing,
What a pity I learnt that sooo late in life,
The feminine spirit is what keeps the universe in check,
What gives it its ineffable beauty, its ubiquitously healing quality,
Its breathless quality of adventure, expansion, exhilaration, and allure,
Sadly, we men, often take that holiness and besmirch it beyond belief, to our eternal shame…
Last Friday evening, I had the cosmic responsibility of lecturing to ten or so such flowers and demonstrating the marvels of bio-resonance technology,
Two of them were literally trembling with fear at what the bio-resonance technology device would find wrong with their health,
As a professional, I could have elected to stay aloof and empirical,
However, I took the one by the hand and sat her next to me and the device,
I held her hand and looked smilingly into her eyes,
I distracted her by complementing her on her beauty, and elegance, and what lady-like grace she carried herself with,
Soon, without her noticing, the electrodes were in her hands and the scan underway, whilst I kept returning her to herself[phrase borrowed from my good friend Linda Smith, the author of the great book by that name], with soothing words, slowly uplifting her spirit and allaying her fears, soon her hands stopped trembling and a wide expanse of a smile decorated her pretty face and we were soon whispering confidential information in each others ears about her health,
Magical and salubrious experience…
As a father, as a male mate,
I now know without doubt,
That my holy mission in relationship is to help the feminine spirit to ‘return to itself’,
Then,
The universe, will blossom and bloom like a Namaqualand flower,
And we will all thank the Infinite for life,
For sweet, sweet, life…
He gave me six daughters,
But a daughter is the greatest gift any man can ever hope to receive,
I’ll never know why God entrusted me with so many,
I got out my car and took my 2nd little daughter’s hand to go into the supermarket,
She could not have been older than two, maybe even younger,
I watched her tenderly as she walked beside me,
She looked at my arm then at hers,
Then blurted out:
“Hey, I have hair on my arms, just like my daddy…”
I hugged her and showered her with kisses, laughter sweetly surrounding us…,
One of the happier moments…
A woman is a very special living thing,
What a pity I learnt that sooo late in life,
The feminine spirit is what keeps the universe in check,
What gives it its ineffable beauty, its ubiquitously healing quality,
Its breathless quality of adventure, expansion, exhilaration, and allure,
Sadly, we men, often take that holiness and besmirch it beyond belief, to our eternal shame…
Last Friday evening, I had the cosmic responsibility of lecturing to ten or so such flowers and demonstrating the marvels of bio-resonance technology,
Two of them were literally trembling with fear at what the bio-resonance technology device would find wrong with their health,
As a professional, I could have elected to stay aloof and empirical,
However, I took the one by the hand and sat her next to me and the device,
I held her hand and looked smilingly into her eyes,
I distracted her by complementing her on her beauty, and elegance, and what lady-like grace she carried herself with,
Soon, without her noticing, the electrodes were in her hands and the scan underway, whilst I kept returning her to herself[phrase borrowed from my good friend Linda Smith, the author of the great book by that name], with soothing words, slowly uplifting her spirit and allaying her fears, soon her hands stopped trembling and a wide expanse of a smile decorated her pretty face and we were soon whispering confidential information in each others ears about her health,
Magical and salubrious experience…
As a father, as a male mate,
I now know without doubt,
That my holy mission in relationship is to help the feminine spirit to ‘return to itself’,
Then,
The universe, will blossom and bloom like a Namaqualand flower,
And we will all thank the Infinite for life,
For sweet, sweet, life…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
Post Comment
Trick-or-Treat
Seven-billion mark by Halloween; by
2050, estimated at three billion more.
Contemplate: what is our planet to do?
Will there be enough resources for me
– not to mention, what about for you?
Environmental damages, already great
from various agricultural endeavors
contribute oxygen-depleting gases
as global warming effects of weather
add fuel to the war of the classes.
Children should not be into poverty born
living lives as insurance premiums paid
to hedge parents’ bets against old age
as fertility rates drop for the wealthiest
leaving stunned demographers in a daze.
With two children per woman required
for population, in balance with needs, to remain
both too many and too few have costs to pay.
Those fighting family planning will eventually
see theirs and more lives crumble away.
Unless solutions, real, deal with the growth
we’ll crowd into spaces once human-free
as population explodes to numbers untold.
Then, we’ll understand the benefits many
of planned births and senses control.
2050, estimated at three billion more.
Contemplate: what is our planet to do?
Will there be enough resources for me
– not to mention, what about for you?
Environmental damages, already great
from various agricultural endeavors
contribute oxygen-depleting gases
as global warming effects of weather
add fuel to the war of the classes.
Children should not be into poverty born
living lives as insurance premiums paid
to hedge parents’ bets against old age
as fertility rates drop for the wealthiest
leaving stunned demographers in a daze.
With two children per woman required
for population, in balance with needs, to remain
both too many and too few have costs to pay.
Those fighting family planning will eventually
see theirs and more lives crumble away.
Unless solutions, real, deal with the growth
we’ll crowd into spaces once human-free
as population explodes to numbers untold.
Then, we’ll understand the benefits many
of planned births and senses control.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
Post CommentNew Balance
Some weeks hence, we walk
against hunger, yet again
Able only to feed too few, we gawk
at starvation that does remain.
Yet, we step out while others talk.
Low wages mark the underpaid
as entitlement lingers in the air
no longer American made
luxury cars, trucks, SUVs everywhere
traveling down the roads we pave.
What’s important no longer seen
View, blocked by ostentation
asphalt paving over dreams.
What should be our destination
Garmin is left to glean.
Not living up to what was taught
in crossfire of privilege and comfort’s stride
soldiers and other innocents caught
in our pool of arrogance and pride
drown in suffering we have wrought.
As we strip her, Mother Earth cries
her jewels and liquid gold lost.
By consuming fossil fuels, lives
not stopping to weigh the cost,
we consume; someone else dies.
Once adorned, her soul now leery
frictions made from rubbing deep
pressures building, eyes made bleary
release destroys, hearts skip a beat
reshaping the whole world weary.
War breaks into pieces, fears,
and, with tsunamis and quakes,
transform body water into tears.
On cusp of spring dawn awakes
as the aching heart perseveres.
Daily, aftershocks move each quad.
New balance remains the goal.
Rumblings, movement, the hand of God
pressuring the pen to play its role
before action from the divining rod.
Toe, far from the beating heart,
wears its new armor against wounds
poor planning causes from the start,
hopes not to be called upon too soon
to sacrifice itself, to split apart.
So, lovingly wrap your toes
with lamb’s wool and extra hope
push forward as the sneaker goes
walk 20 miles into future’s scope
searching for paths only truth knows.
against hunger, yet again
Able only to feed too few, we gawk
at starvation that does remain.
Yet, we step out while others talk.
Low wages mark the underpaid
as entitlement lingers in the air
no longer American made
luxury cars, trucks, SUVs everywhere
traveling down the roads we pave.
What’s important no longer seen
View, blocked by ostentation
asphalt paving over dreams.
What should be our destination
Garmin is left to glean.
Not living up to what was taught
in crossfire of privilege and comfort’s stride
soldiers and other innocents caught
in our pool of arrogance and pride
drown in suffering we have wrought.
As we strip her, Mother Earth cries
her jewels and liquid gold lost.
By consuming fossil fuels, lives
not stopping to weigh the cost,
we consume; someone else dies.
Once adorned, her soul now leery
frictions made from rubbing deep
pressures building, eyes made bleary
release destroys, hearts skip a beat
reshaping the whole world weary.
War breaks into pieces, fears,
and, with tsunamis and quakes,
transform body water into tears.
On cusp of spring dawn awakes
as the aching heart perseveres.
Daily, aftershocks move each quad.
New balance remains the goal.
Rumblings, movement, the hand of God
pressuring the pen to play its role
before action from the divining rod.
Toe, far from the beating heart,
wears its new armor against wounds
poor planning causes from the start,
hopes not to be called upon too soon
to sacrifice itself, to split apart.
So, lovingly wrap your toes
with lamb’s wool and extra hope
push forward as the sneaker goes
walk 20 miles into future’s scope
searching for paths only truth knows.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2011
About this poem:
Started in 1969, "Project Bread's Walk for Hunger is the oldest continual pledge walk in the United States and the largest annual one-day fundraiser to alleviate local hunger in Massachusetts."Waking up on Ted …
A satire with true overtures…
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, what would I do without her? Every morning she wakes me up at precisely the right time I asked her to the night before…,
More faithful a gal, a guy could not hope for…
Slowly, reluctantly, I wake up on Ted, he’s a tough guy, he takes a lot from me, let me tell you, especially when I made like an aardvark on some lady on top of him the nite before,
Ted, of course, is my bed…, really, my bed…, 4 legs, mattress, you’re familiar with the contraption, right?
Sleepily, I make my way to Jason, scan for emails, flowers from connecting singles, etc.,
You guessed it, Jason is my trusty old computer…
Then I visit Charlie, relishingly empty my bladder on him and thank him for his grace and acceptance…, what a guy, who else would put up with such an indignity…
Now, its time for my habit with Josephine, she’s the custodian who lovingly holds all my botanicals for me,
Slowly, methodically, and with practiced scientific care, I swallow my greens, my European systemic enzymes, my Asiatic systemic enzymes, my MSM, my vitamins, minerals, my omega’s, my probiotics, etc, while Josephine patiently watches me, sometimes I catch her amused twinkle in her eyes…,
Then I pack everything back into her and place her in a dark place out of the sun, so that he cant hurt the sensitive botanicals…
Then, its off to Carlos…,
Carlos and I have not seen eye-to-eye yet,
He’s normally cold, business-like and totally unaffectionate, and hates the mess I make in him…,
[neurotic bastard…]
What with teeth-brushing with Zelda, my electric toothbrush, shaving, and then doing battle with Telly, he’s the wretched shower, I swear I know he has a pact with the devil to either freeze me or scald me,
Never a happy medium…,
One day, one day…,
g-d, I’m always glad to get the hell outa there…
As I leave for my office, I greet everyone, starting with Rhonda, the apartment, Nestor, my TV chair,
Nestor is particularly sensitive, if I forget to wish him a good day, he makes me pay later, by not quite allowing me to settle down very nice and comfy in his many convoluted contours,
Out of frustration and curiosity, I asked him once why he’s so ornery, he said, look, you sit on me, fart on me, for half the night, bellow-laugh undignifyingly at the inane comedy ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’, least you can do is thank me for my troubles, I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, you know, the guy before you used to get drunk and vomit on me…,
Wow…, now, I understand the reason for his sensitive nature and sometimes I even kiss him good bye, you should see how he glows after that…
Katerina, my VCR, and Rob-Roy, my TV are a lot more steady characters, they understand me, I think…, but I caress them goodbye as well, just in case….
Lastly, I greet very affectionately, my Zoe, I love her the most, she gives me a smooth ride and asks for very little, just some gasoline once in a while…
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, what would I do without her? Every morning she wakes me up at precisely the right time I asked her to the night before…,
More faithful a gal, a guy could not hope for…
Slowly, reluctantly, I wake up on Ted, he’s a tough guy, he takes a lot from me, let me tell you, especially when I made like an aardvark on some lady on top of him the nite before,
Ted, of course, is my bed…, really, my bed…, 4 legs, mattress, you’re familiar with the contraption, right?
Sleepily, I make my way to Jason, scan for emails, flowers from connecting singles, etc.,
You guessed it, Jason is my trusty old computer…
Then I visit Charlie, relishingly empty my bladder on him and thank him for his grace and acceptance…, what a guy, who else would put up with such an indignity…
Now, its time for my habit with Josephine, she’s the custodian who lovingly holds all my botanicals for me,
Slowly, methodically, and with practiced scientific care, I swallow my greens, my European systemic enzymes, my Asiatic systemic enzymes, my MSM, my vitamins, minerals, my omega’s, my probiotics, etc, while Josephine patiently watches me, sometimes I catch her amused twinkle in her eyes…,
Then I pack everything back into her and place her in a dark place out of the sun, so that he cant hurt the sensitive botanicals…
Then, its off to Carlos…,
Carlos and I have not seen eye-to-eye yet,
He’s normally cold, business-like and totally unaffectionate, and hates the mess I make in him…,
[neurotic bastard…]
What with teeth-brushing with Zelda, my electric toothbrush, shaving, and then doing battle with Telly, he’s the wretched shower, I swear I know he has a pact with the devil to either freeze me or scald me,
Never a happy medium…,
One day, one day…,
g-d, I’m always glad to get the hell outa there…
As I leave for my office, I greet everyone, starting with Rhonda, the apartment, Nestor, my TV chair,
Nestor is particularly sensitive, if I forget to wish him a good day, he makes me pay later, by not quite allowing me to settle down very nice and comfy in his many convoluted contours,
Out of frustration and curiosity, I asked him once why he’s so ornery, he said, look, you sit on me, fart on me, for half the night, bellow-laugh undignifyingly at the inane comedy ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’, least you can do is thank me for my troubles, I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, you know, the guy before you used to get drunk and vomit on me…,
Wow…, now, I understand the reason for his sensitive nature and sometimes I even kiss him good bye, you should see how he glows after that…
Katerina, my VCR, and Rob-Roy, my TV are a lot more steady characters, they understand me, I think…, but I caress them goodbye as well, just in case….
Lastly, I greet very affectionately, my Zoe, I love her the most, she gives me a smooth ride and asks for very little, just some gasoline once in a while…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
Post Comment
'smart alec'....a composition...
The phrase "smart alec" arose from the exploits of Alec Hoag.
A celebrated pimp, thief, and confidence man,
Hoag, his wife Melinda, and accomplice "French Jack",
operated various con games in New York City in the 1840s.
Most was done by pickpocketing,
with Melinda taking the victim's pocketbook,
while the victim was otherwise engaged,
surreptitiously handing it to Hoag or French Jack.
The key to this activity was that they did so,
in close association with two police officers,
who shared the loot and provided protection.
In the "panel game" trick,
Melinda would make her victim lay his clothes
upon a chair near a secret panel.
She would then take him to her arms
and closely draw the curtains of the bed.
With the dupe not likely to heed outside noises,
she would cough, and Alec would slily enter,
rifle the pockets of every farthing or valuable thing,
then disappear as mysteriously as he entered.
The victim was persuaded to hurrily leave through a window,
when Alec banging on the door, posed as an aggrieved husband.
Hoag used this trick to avoid paying off the police.
When he was caught, the cops were in no mood to aid him.
A celebrated pimp, thief, and confidence man,
Hoag, his wife Melinda, and accomplice "French Jack",
operated various con games in New York City in the 1840s.
Most was done by pickpocketing,
with Melinda taking the victim's pocketbook,
while the victim was otherwise engaged,
surreptitiously handing it to Hoag or French Jack.
The key to this activity was that they did so,
in close association with two police officers,
who shared the loot and provided protection.
In the "panel game" trick,
Melinda would make her victim lay his clothes
upon a chair near a secret panel.
She would then take him to her arms
and closely draw the curtains of the bed.
With the dupe not likely to heed outside noises,
she would cough, and Alec would slily enter,
rifle the pockets of every farthing or valuable thing,
then disappear as mysteriously as he entered.
The victim was persuaded to hurrily leave through a window,
when Alec banging on the door, posed as an aggrieved husband.
Hoag used this trick to avoid paying off the police.
When he was caught, the cops were in no mood to aid him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2010
About this poem:
A "smart alec" is a person regarded as obnoxiously self-assertive and impudent. Various sources suggest that Alec Hoag was given the sobriquet of "smart Alec" by the police for being a resourceful thief who outsmarted himself by trying to avoid paying graft.
The Fever
Futbol or soccer, as you will,
By far most popular of all.
But in the States another sport,
Attention grabs of most each fall.
The tackles, blocks, the hits and shots,
So physical, this manly game.
Each Sunday bodies pay the toll,
Each Monday many come up lame.
Emotional investment's key,
Ev'ry fan loyal to their team,
As players try to execute,
What coaches on the sideline scheme.
Some go too far, they smash and burn,
In drunken, rabid revelry.
But most just cheer, high five and yell,
When their home team gains victory.
It's like no other, this I'll say,
Each yard a battle, tooth and nail.
That ball is just a marker as,
The strong and swift each play prevail.
Yes true, it's just a Yankee thing,
Though other's may well understand,
How swept up in the game we get,
As Football Fever sweeps the land.
By far most popular of all.
But in the States another sport,
Attention grabs of most each fall.
The tackles, blocks, the hits and shots,
So physical, this manly game.
Each Sunday bodies pay the toll,
Each Monday many come up lame.
Emotional investment's key,
Ev'ry fan loyal to their team,
As players try to execute,
What coaches on the sideline scheme.
Some go too far, they smash and burn,
In drunken, rabid revelry.
But most just cheer, high five and yell,
When their home team gains victory.
It's like no other, this I'll say,
Each yard a battle, tooth and nail.
That ball is just a marker as,
The strong and swift each play prevail.
Yes true, it's just a Yankee thing,
Though other's may well understand,
How swept up in the game we get,
As Football Fever sweeps the land.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
Apologies to the rest of the world, here it's a Big Deal...
money makes pain...
We need money to live better
Someone lives for money
And others living in money
Others are not aware about money
Someone kills and someone killed for it
And started war only for this
Finally every one goes to end
Which cannot stop by money?
So money will make more pain…
Someone lives for money
And others living in money
Others are not aware about money
Someone kills and someone killed for it
And started war only for this
Finally every one goes to end
Which cannot stop by money?
So money will make more pain…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2009
About this poem:
its not good to live only for money...
Things Money Can Buy
Mac and Cheese
Doritos
Mello Yello
Mountain Dew
Rent
Car
Gas
Car Repairs
Car Insurance
Movie tickets
Pumpkins
shoes
cds
green fees
blue jeans
work boots
health care
dental care
time away from work
house
private land
privacy
airplane
your own island
jet skis
golf cart
mp3 music player
help for poor friends and family
vacations around the world
Doritos
Mello Yello
Mountain Dew
Rent
Car
Gas
Car Repairs
Car Insurance
Movie tickets
Pumpkins
shoes
cds
green fees
blue jeans
work boots
health care
dental care
time away from work
house
private land
privacy
airplane
your own island
jet skis
golf cart
mp3 music player
help for poor friends and family
vacations around the world
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2014
About this poem:
I was reading a post on what money can't buy you. Manners, morals, respect, character, common sense, trust, patience, class, integrity, and love. I know from personal experience that the lack of money can make life pretty aweful. Money may not be able to buy happiness, but it sure can rent it!We The Peep Hole
We the peep hole
In order to form a more perfect camera
Establish injustice
Insure domestic uncertainty
Provide for the common offense
Promote the general welfare state
Secure the curse of slavery to ourselves
And our posterity
Do ordain and establish this drone state
For the United States of America
For which it will fall
One nation under the dollar
With injustice for all
In order to form a more perfect camera
Establish injustice
Insure domestic uncertainty
Provide for the common offense
Promote the general welfare state
Secure the curse of slavery to ourselves
And our posterity
Do ordain and establish this drone state
For the United States of America
For which it will fall
One nation under the dollar
With injustice for all
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2015
About this poem:
Seem a little closer to the reality we have here than the original writing.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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