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Last Viewed Political / Social Poems (810)

Here is a list of Political / Social Poems ordered by Last Viewed, 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.

Oceanzest

War Haiku

Buffalo soldiers
Apache feathered spirits
war within a breath

Johnson and Nixon
Kissinger on my TV
smoke over Da Nang

Chinese raid Taiwan
UN emergency meet
calm before the storm
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2021
About this poem:
a few lines, next time I'll write about kittens and flowers.
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Stephenmcnulty

Government Tax

Bustled Boys in dressed suits,
Swanky cars on the loose,
All houses big not small,
Are they the ones who play ball?
Standing watch them make a speech,
To everyone they speak,
Promises made without thought,
Are we the ones that lost,
They seem to list it down,
Who are what plays the clown?
Just one thing I would like to know,
Were in hell does it go,
Bustling boys playing games,
Quick to talk, all the same.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2014
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MaxxHeart25

Letter to the world IV

Well here we go once again we have major breaking news,
Yet we prefer to hear about the Miley Cyrus boos.
Going to strike another country when ourselves can't see,
Cause its set to the side of the start of football sounds weird to me.
Or is it.. I mean especially when you have priests turning fraud,
I mean did they not read the bible that we all have faces of God.
But hey we'll just sit and see if aaron hernandez gives a guilty plea,
Oh wait Obama took hold of the media with an emotionless decree
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2013
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Unknown

I ONLY DID IT BECAUSE SHE SAID " BELIZE"

THERE ONCE WAS A BEACH IN BELIZE
UPON WHICH A CHICK BEGGED ME "PLEASE"
SO I PUT MY HAND
WHERE NATURE HAD PLANNED
AND THAT'S HOW I GOT THIS DISEASE

THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE WE WERE BLESSED WITH OBAMA
"ME THINKS SOMETHING STINKS

BARACH OBAMA ISN'T PRESIDENT YET
IT'S NOT IN THE BAG BUT HE IS IN THE KNOW
IF YOU ASK ME THIS COUNTRY REALLY STINKS
SO IT'S APPROPRIATE WE HAVE A PRESIDENT WITH THE INITIALS B.O.

AND OF COURSE I COULDN'T HELP BUT WRITE ONE FOR HILARY
"NOT A BAD CONCEPT"
OUR COUNTRY HAS HAD A LOT OF JOHNS AND GEORGES
BUT I'M ALMOST CERTAIN THERE WAS NEVER A PRESIDENT WITH THE MONICA MICHAEL
THIS COUNTRY HAS PROBLEMS NO MAN WILL EVER SOLVE
SO WHY DON'T WE TRY ELECTING A PRESIDENT WITH A MENSTRUEL CYCLE?
thank you for your attention
~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE
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virgosign

King for a minute !

As I sit in quiet solitude,
Contemplating on my life,
I have come to somewhat realise,
That I couldn't use my eyes
To see the truth and the reality
Of our politicians' lies.
But I use my intuition
To make up my lack of vision
To deduce some of the nuances
Which in life attack my senses.

Neither left, and nor the right
Care for anyone, but for their fight.
To get back and be reelected,
To enjoy the fruits of power.
And dish out their non prescriptive pill,
Dictate to the multitude, if you will.
While the sheep will baaaa and clap,
To the victor, a winner's lap.
Whether Blue, or Red or Green,
We the people pay for their scene.

So I came to realise,
Best to not be very wise,
For to be so, it is fruitless
Unless you're prepared to care less,
And maybe join in their ranks,
Even if it's just in the flanks
You'll be one of the preferred
And a little bit more cared,
For eventually they're only after one thing,
It's your vote, you'd be made king.

Except you're only royalty for a minute,
And once it's cast, you're back to nothing!
As I sit back and contemplate,
How the masses can be happy,
With the crumbs that fall to ground,
And the fat lords with abundance,
Graceless, truthless, heartless even,
Play with our lives; yours and mine.

Yet we clap for their attention,
As we pray for a minor mention,
In their prayers to their gods,
But I'd bet against all odds,
We the plebeians are just pawns
In their international game,
Of who's the greatest? Who's the name,
That will live in history books?
Who is daring, who so brave
To change this thirst for wealth and power,
It's not Trump, or May, or Kim
Nor indeed Vladimir Putin.

If you ask me who to nominate,
I'd reply let's concentrate,
For I cannot think of any one
Who is really equipped to lead
The exodus from this present dread.

In the end, we are all dead,
And that's what makes us -
The powerful, the rich, the poor,
The haughty and the meek -
All equal, so to speak.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2018
About this poem:
It's everywhere !
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steve1223

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Looked in the mirror and did not like
What reflected back at me

Your nose is not right, it screamed at me
Too big, too fat, too long
I have to get this fixed right now
Go under the surgeon's knife
My nose is fixed, it is just right
The doctors they assured me

Looked in the mirror and did not like
What reflected back at me

Cheeks too high, too prominent
My face they did not match
We can fix and alter that
To make your face appealing
Without a thought it's back I go
To let them do the procedure

Looked in the mirror and did not like
What reflected back at me

My lips too thin, I look quite mean
They say these make bad lovers
Easy to fix, the doctors say
We'll just squirt in some collagen
Luscious lips you soon will have
The answer to a girl's prayers

Looked in the mirror and did not like
What reflected back at me

My chin too wide, too masculine
It makes me look ridiculous
A chin I need that's feminine
So elegant, dainty and so petite
Easy done, the doctors say
We'll chisel out a bit

Looked in the mirror and did not like
What reflected back at me

Skin not right, there's wrinkles there
It makes me look much older
Lift my face and smooth it out
I begged all the doctors
I need my face perfect to be
For a man to be attracting

Looked in the mirror and did not like
What reflected back at me

A spoiled b*tch, a selfish b*tch
One that's mean and nasty
It did not matter how much I changed
My semblance using surgery
Was not my face that drove them off
But what lay underneath it
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2011
About this poem:
In this day and age the magazines tell us to go for the quick fix. Plastic surgery is getting out of control when even children are having it to improve their self esteem. True beauty always comes from the inside and no matter what you do on the outside it will never change that. This was not aimed at any particular person however I have known a few people who have had multiple procedures and they were just as unhappy in their life as they were before. I am not against plastic surgery as such but I think it has gotten out of control.
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adjhe

Please Sir , Mam

Modern toys for you and me
are dreams for others to
visualize but never see.
They have, but only food,
morsels for themselves
and their family.
Clothes are there nothing
special for not a one
for no money there for
eccentricities.
Each day they would wish
and dream for food enough
for the day.
They would even hope for
water to come there way.
This was the life of poverty
you see for everyone poor
was that way.
Can you not see how lucky
we are today to not have
to exist but enjoy life
in our own way.
Pray for those less fortunate
then thee for you know one day
it could even be me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2012
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Unknown

Haiku!

The past leaves its marks
The future, unknowable
What we have is now.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
Seems to be Haiku day...
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Semsu

The forgotten generation!

Life is Life,with all it"s bending,
no matter what ever it is trending
Starting with the hardship all,
freedom and survival as the goal.

There was no more than your self,
and nobody there to give you help.
All you had where your hands,
and in the hourglass running down sands.

Day out Day in,working with no end,
all you made,in Trains you had to send.
The payment was of reason wrong,
that made the cry,your evening song.

The sacrifice broke down on your Soul,
but proud as people,you still kept it as hole.
From left to right,you work together,
your Fathers land could not be given to whoever.

But one Day the Sun was shining bright,
that was when the last Train went out of sight.
The seeds of better Life had been sown ,
with hopes of never apart to be torn.

But as the Life is always going to be,
without lessons we forget and can not see.
The sacrifice of People brave in past,
have just gone down the drain to never last.

Respect and care for older generations are not there,
they are only burden,no matter even left in tear.
Once they walked trough the hardship,for people all,
still as forgotten generation,the hardship is again as call.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2016
About this poem:
This Poem is about the old generation in Finland,about the People,that faced the war against Soviet Union and the next generation,that is my generation.....we did not start the war,but in the end,they made us Finns the war criminals and they took a lot of Land from us and also we had to pay almost an impossible amount in products,what we was sending with trains to them.
We had no choice,as our independence was on stake....12 to 16 hours every day,the food we got with coupons only.
We had to put up a completely new industry and thank's to USA,they lend us Money,we was able to do the task.
When the last Train went over the border to Soviet Union,we knew,that we had done it and we was a free country and in the same time we had available a heavy industry and we could export and make big profit after that.
Finland rose like a Fenix from the ashes and in the next 10-15 years with still hard working People we we made one of the best Countries in the world to live in...we just made it to the top.

But little by little,the younger generation,that did not know and did not care about the hardship we older generation had gone trough,just start to destroy the fruits we had done for them and in these days,there are almost nothing left of the brightness from before.

All to that,the old generations are now retired and many in old peoples Home,where children have forget them almost completely....many retired people live with a daily porridge and forgotten by them self....all to that, in the old Peoples home,the more weak one are left in alone in the bed for 5-6 days in their own urinate and excrement ....nobody really care about them and one lady show in public how her Father had about 2 inch long nails on his foots.....she also told,that she had change him to different homes several times and in every place,there have been no care.

When the Refugees came in,they was giving good food and care,but nobody care about the old People.....they collected Phones,computers and good cloths for the Refugees,but the Old People live with so little social support,that many of them don't have any Phones or for sure no computers....in fact it is so bad situation,that every time I hear about it,I"m in tears.

These old People,that faced the almost impossible hardship in the war and soon after that,is again in the end of their life facing similar almost impossible hardship.....many People support heavily the Tomcat refugees,that have run over the border to Finland and when I came up with the opinion in FB,that they should also help and support their own old People in their horrible situation,then they cut me out from their friends list.
This is why this Poem realized it self from my Heart and it is telling how I feel about the Fate of the,"Forgotten Generation".
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MarsMan

Promises, Promises.

Promises, promises, all you give are promises.
Building up my fragile confidence.
Issuing such sweet, alluring dirty lies,
Are you a vicious demon in disguise.

Constantly telling me how you will make things better,
How you are such a righteous, upstanding go getter.
Tell me again how much richer, wiser and healthier I will be,
If only to your secret plans I will unconditionally agree.

You instruct me to follow you blindly about,
Never to questions or show any doubt,
Your endless devious drivel gets repeat every day
Telling me never to wander from your path or to stray.

You shout from the roof tops, and whisper in my ear.
That I should blame this one or that one for all that I fear.
You take from my pocket, by enacting new laws,
All to give to another dubious less deserving cause.

You grip my soul, my very being in your hand,
To squeeze out my essence, every last strand.
You wish me to crawl and beg at your feet,
Whilst you tell me one more great myth or deceipt.

Is breaking my spirit your ultimate goal?
Slowly draining the dignity from my very soul?
I am to become your obedient slave?
For the rest of my life until the grave?

Should I be grateful for the few scraps you distainly give?
Is this the way I am now meant to live?
Crushed and destroyed by your cruel lies.
Of a the better life, of endless blue summer skies.

Is this bitter tale about a spiteful love?
Is it a divine cruel beauty that I dare speak ill of?
A siren singly sweetly, luring me to my doom?
What person or thing could cause such dire gloom?

It is not of just one person these lines do speak,
They instead tell of the ignorance and arrogance of a powerful sneak.
That orders me to give up every last cent.

It Is My cruel lying Government!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
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