Last Commented Political / Social Poems (810)

Pride cometh before a fall
the grave yards are teeming
with the proud and the foolish
The poor man rich man and the bard.
the sulky teenager, the grumpy
old man, all will touch the fire's of hell.
Sail on by under silvery moons and
Dante's sun, glow and burn, that is life
Bone, blood, and sinew, will smother the earth
we shall be one, the end of all strife.


Came to my mind seeing trouble flair up in Glasgow, after the Referemdun.

Hey!
You!
I'm here to scare the crap out of you!
Don't you like the drones?
Of course you don't!
What are you going to do about it?
Nothing!
That's what!
Cause it's 2014 and this is how it is in America
They pass stupid laws every year
They just keep piling up
Year after year you lose a little more freedom
Remember back in the 1900's when you didn't have to pay taxes?
Remember back in the 1980's when you could choose to wear a seat belt?
Just a few years ago car and health insurance weren't mandatory
You could get decent interest on your money you put in a bank
Heck you could go for a nice drive
And if you happened to go through a red light
There wasn't a camera to take your picture
Well I'm here to tell you
The good old days are gone!
I'm Officer McNulty
Not really here to protect and serve
Just here to harass and scare ya!

Thanks everyone!!!

[zHis falling tears are like thunder,
\Yet only heard by one
But the world would never know he whimpered
knowing less that he had lost.
Mans worth? His power to weep.
We see hurt on the faces of those we love.
A false smile, a slight facial twitch from pain
concealed, digested by their soul
We scream for answers we do not have,
To questions they never ask.
Mans worth, His power to weep.
Their tears are bred from independence
But we are not gods.
Our worth? Our power to weep
holding the weeping silent they scream ino themselves
And in their blindness, from tears held back ,
They see our helplessness,
Then their worth is found in their power to weep,
For us!
But their final thought? "My tears must never reach the light"
Man's worth? His power to weep for man.

South South West of Tralee,
The most western part of the land
For thousands of years people lived there
With flocks of sheep on a hillside
And each had a cow of his
own while , in unfertile land
Potatoes were grown.
A place that writers called home.
Never did pen kiss asper so sweet
As when it’s writers wrote of sea and
of gull
And eyes that stared through windows of lace
Absorbing the rhythm of life’s easy pace
Firers blazed
all year round
Coooking the fish and Lobsters they found
Worldly contact was eight miles away
Over a mountain to Dingle Bay
And never a one did ever stay
For the islands called Herchildren back home
to the gull the sea and to play.

i always remember
these people
fleeing across
concrete armored posts
all roads in
were fortified
invading soldiers
take to
the streets

sticks in
pointing guns
at women and children
the mind
still bugs me
faces of pain
down trodden
counting back years
plight of generations
sorrowful mysteries

becoming refugees
in their own
war torn country
where they
themselves were born
grew up
then had children

sounds so sad
heartbreaking countries
without voices
a world sat back
nodding their heads
silently said nothing
shame allowing this
in a just world
many years later
has it been forgotten
our soldiers
that died
in a struggle

we all
take a side
in war
ireland still
remains divided
one of her
four seats
dating back
to the pyrmaids
partially taken
strangely why is that
we are one
big teddy bear

a question
i ask myself
over and over again
invading someone's space
surely one tyrant
taking land
by force
is it not
a crime anymore
in anyone's books

i myself
call it stealing
whats not
rightfully theirs
in the first place
does the bible
not quote
thou shalt not steal
christian virtues
as they use it
in courts

justice a joke
a coin
with two heads
makes the
whole system
corrupt into
the very core

Your truth could never be true
Contaminated with lies,
Envy too,
Your truth tried to hurt me
But you end up hurting you
See, when people finally see you for what you are
Your repute will be gone like a shooting star
Spreading lies like a plague
It will all come back on your name
For no one will want you to darken their door
They will listen to your tales never more
Tales of deceit
Tainted green.....
Itching your tongue like poison ivy
Your truth don't scare me
I will never shrink
Before your malodorous
Gossip
Food you don't give
My clothes you don't buy
Your truth don't give me drink
So I don't give a rat's eye
Your truth is mean,
May sometimes make me scream
But let me let you know.....
It ain't gonna stop my show
For all that I am and all that I have
Came from the Creator above
And when I go to sleep at night
I rest in His love....
Now think about that,
Think long and hard
For me you should be glad
That my Father and I we got it going good
Cuz I know I am covered y His blood.
His is the only truth I'll take
Over your BS,
You big fake.
Talking me bad
Seems to make you glad
But just wanna say....
I am still the best friend you ever had.

Evil struck the Amish folk
Invading schoolhouse space.
Killing all inside, leaving not a trace
What was said but "let it go let them have their spoils
We must do our planting And multiply our toil."
For those who lost a child
Their grief is far from mild.
The little arms that held them close
Are now far away
And tears are shed in secret
Hoping heir at play.
But evil sits in comfort,
Its evil deeds condoned.
It must no be allowed
to run ramped where it roams
Those we love are sacred
They must treated so
To do them right is extreme might
Weshould not let it go.
The Amish should have made a stand
And taken things in hand
We never asked for this
It Was just allowed in.
what is that we fear,
A no win game
Or do we really want what we might gain.
If its war so let it be
Letting evil reign is not thinking free

I'm afraid to leave my apartment
Those monsters are out there
Waiting to hurt me
Hurt my feelings mostly
Steal my money
Steal my peace
I see the drone flying over the hills
It steals my peace of a beautiful scene
God created this land
He made it beautiful
He made it pure
He made it peaceful
These monsters lurk at work
They lurk at my parents home
Sometimes they hide for awhile
Most of the time they don't
The ones with the badges and the lights on top of their cars
They are the worst
They were supposed to keep me safe
Provide me some comfort
Instead they are paid to bully good people
People talk about zombies
Why do we need to fantasize about them?
When we have so so many real monsters out there
Just waiting with evil grins
Waiting for their next victim

More are forgotten, less are remembered, rejection is organized hate from a bitter dry well with flogged thoughts strapped in darkness with anger so deeply rooted and so cold. All is frozen in time embodied in fear, intimidated by prosperity, lost dreams with no hope or memories to cherish and diminished in the success of never winning.
Shu.….,so I can hear your thoughts spinning in your head recognizing reasons and feelings like blowing sand that can’t be gathered. Must this journey be so long, feeling rejection way down from your bitter dry well? We have died a thousand deaths yet it’s not enough; you have killed a million dreams, ravished aspirations and killed the spirit of hope. My face has faded in time like shadows in the night and no longer remembered. Hands are fisted not in anger to do you no harm, but to be recognized as a sign and symbol of strength and unity as we face your bitter dry well of faded hope.
Chasing dreams that may never be, I dare to lose strength under a veil of defeat.
In what vain do we rejoice, swelled with unquestioning doubt?
Years have passed with the spectra of freedom looming with passion.
The mocking of opportunities beyond common contempt so narrowly bestowed.
To simply make it possible for all people to plow freedoms road of hope cannot be wasted or divided by power.
We each have a vested responsibility to vote ourselves into the process of this sobering reality of our nations divide.
Self criticism echoes through our minds like empty hallways casting shadows of self defeat and threatening further desires.
So drawn in time and dead weighted in cultural differences we still wait for America to wake up, but we must keep watch over our own.

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