Showing posts with label political poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label political poems. Show all posts

Monday, April 27, 2020

Ornery Poetry + Sly Rhymes: The More Things Change (Part 2)

Image by Tibor Janosi Mozes from Pixabay

The more things change, the more they stay shitty
The words of the Orange Dolt ain't pretty
He talks like a clown
Spewing his foolishness 'round
Proving his brain is just itty bitty

~sly has spoken~

Image purchased from 123rf.com
Copyright Julia Henze



NaPoWriMo: Write a review poem of something that doesn't usually get reviewed. Well, it's a review poem anyway. I give this particular subject terrible reviews all the time. Every time I fart, it's a review of what I think of his shitty performance.

April PAD Challenge: Write a change poem. Boy, do we need a change before Vice-Admiral Shitbrain sinks not only his own ship but the whole goddamn fleet with his egotistical ineptitude.

notes
I'm keeping it simple today and just having fun, letting my snarky, politically inclined alter-ego, Sly Fawkes, take the reins. This poem isn't anywhere near good enough to share on any of my subscription platforms.

I'm using this poem for my debut on Something For the Weekend, Sir, to be published on May 3, 2020. If you enjoy discussing poets and poetry, stop by. They may not want me back after this one!

If you enjoy my work, please click here to find out how you can support me. One of the easiest suggestions pays you and me both!


Saturday, April 25, 2020

Riffin' on Jim: Poetry of the Netherworld Remix in the Style of James Schuyler, Sort Of

James Schuyler
James Schuyler (1923 - 1991)

Image from the Poetry Foundation page

This poetic remix exercise takes the titles of all poems written for this month's challenges and roughly reworks them into the style of James Schuyler's poem, Sweet Romanian Tongue.



Drew down the COVID-19 curse on broken-down America
The stench of time breaking down a corpse
We cannot sail away on the asphalt sea
Some prefer to hide in sleepy little towns
 
Why do we follow a lunatic down the road to hell?
I harbor a secret wish that there are better days ahead
Yet the masque of the Orange Idiot may prevail
Too many fall into his trap
 
Steve Mnuchin, such a waspish twit, it makes me weep
I think I will head to Mr. Lovecraft's madcap zoo
Perhaps I have fallen into a time-leak mousetrap
 
Will we all fall victim to the word that destroys
As fools with brains full of love in bloom for Trump
Refuse to get their news elsewhere away from Fox
 
We are unable to hide beneath a lead umbrella
As everything rages out of control like a fire from a cigarette dropped in dry grass
The spirit of the wood hides in pitchy night
Staring at the damage, there is no taking it back
 
"Why would you let this be your legacy, America?" it queried
"I wish this miserable red mess would wake to a blue dream."
The last, best, chosen one went on speaking nonsense
The spirit of the wood wrote a Sedoka for a lost world
 
"These are the happiest days of our lives," the orange despot bellowed
Wagging tarnished silver tongue as the wind lifted his piss-blond hair
I wrote a message to my past self, an impotent warning
"I give you a gift wrapped in horror," it read.
"Although I fear that my words may be lost in translation."
 
"The people made a troublesome choice," I warned her.
my diseased and dying body smelling of wet cigarettes
"Will Mark's train come to collect me in the pitchy night?" I wondered.
"Will social distancing save us?
Or will we all wind up lying dead in a field of rotting pumpkins
As the crows and vultures pick the sun-dried flesh from our bones?"
 
Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
 
Please do not repost
 
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
 
Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.
 
Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
 
NaPoWriMo: Use a long poem by James Schuyler as a guidepost for your poem
 
April PAD Challenge: Write a remix poem
 
This work is cross-posted in these places:
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
If you appreciate my poetry, please consider picking up a copy of my first published poetry volume, Another Autumn.
 

Rotting Pumpkin Sestina by Sly Fawkes

tRumpkin
Image copyright Deedster on Pixabay
https://pixabay.com/photos/pumpkins-halloween-trump-trumpkin-1580968/
This snarky Sestina is composed by Aunt Cie's snarkastic pundit alter-ego, Sly Fawkes.
I
with a brain like the inside of a rotting
pumpkin, Dear Leader 45 takes the stage
spouting out misleading misinformation
telling his audience to mainline Clorox
"It will kill the coronavirus," he says
"You just change the pH balance of your blood"
II
never mind that he knows nothing about blood
please ignore the fact that his mind is rotting
or that he is just a ham who loves the stage
spreading deadly lies and misinformation
you'll die shooting up an I.V. of Clorox
you should not ever trust what Pumpkinhead says
III
our Dear Leader with rotting pumpkin brains says
he thinks you should inject bleach in your blood
to make the coronavirus start rotting
please do not concern yourself about the stage
leading to death from his misinformation
coronavirus is not cured by Clorox
IV
you can wash dirty laundry using Clorox
please pay attention to what the label says
do not go injecting Clorox in your blood
for if you do, then you will soon be rotting
death can be anticipated at the stage
following Pumpkinhead's misinformation
V
a four-year onslaught of misinformation
the White House needs a good cleaning with Clorox
and since we can't trust what the red leader says
we need an injection of blue in the blood
this once-great country from within is rotting
get the pumpkin-headed ham off of the stage
VI
hopefully, we have come to the final stage
of daily ranting and misinformation
clean up the rotting pumpkin stains with Clorox
and really hear the words each candidate says
we can't let their charisma poison our blood
scandal addiction leaves our country rotting
VII
a scrubbing with Clorox
may relieve the rotting
it's time to clear the stage
~sly has spoken~
what does the fox say
Royalty-free image copyright Julia Henze purchased from 123rf.com
Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
 
Please do not repost
 
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
 
Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.
 
Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
 
NaPoWriMo: Write a poem about a fruit. I was initially going to compare Cheeto Stalin to the Annoying Orange but decided that a rotting pumpkin was more appropriate. 
 
A pumpkin is, in fact, a fruit. Here is a fun page that explains why.
 
April PAD Challenge: Write a nature poem. I may have done the reverse of this because the Rotting Pumpkin-Head in chief is utterly unnatural.
 
This work is cross-posted in these places:
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Thursday, April 16, 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 16 + April PAD Challenge Day 16: The Last Best Chosen One

Image by David Bruyland from Pixabay

the last bigly best forever president
is a very stable genius, just ask him
"I am the chosen one," he says, looking up
he makes the best jokes, right?

"Trump is doing a very good job," he says
giving himself a gold star and Nobel prize
he is the best at complimenting himself
often in the third person

the last bigly best forever president
thinks he deserves a military parade
Kim Jong-un gets one, so when will Trump get his?
don't care how, he wants it now

the last bigly best forever president
knows everything that is going to happen
he was chosen by God to be the messiah
at least if you ask him

the last bigly best forever president
would not still be in office fucking things up
if Congress had the guts to remove his ass
impeachment means shit

~sly has spoken~

image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com



Tuesday, April 7, 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 7 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 7 + April PAD Challenge Catch-Up Countdown Day 3: Hey Steve!

Steve Mnuchin, Secretary of Clueless Rich Bastards
Photo copyright Chip Somodevilla @ Getty Images

Steve Mnuchin is way out of touch
He thinks twelve hundred bucks is so much
If you pay rent you starve
If you eat you live in your car
Most folks don't have a fat money clutch

~sly has spoken~

image copyright juliahenze@123rf.com



notes
NaPoWriMo: write a poem about a news article

April PAD Challenge: Write a lucky or unlucky poem. Aren't we all ever so lucky to have our big-hearted and insightful Cousin Stevie looking out for our well-being?

April PAD Challenge Countdown Catch-Up Day 3: Write a response poem. This is Sly's response to Steve.

Steve's lurvely wife, Louise Linton, is a real feckless See You Next Tuesday. They're the perfect match made in hell.

I'm just gonna leave this here for reasons

Sunday, April 5, 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 5 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 5 + April PAD Countdown Catch-Up Day 5: The Masque of the Orange Idiot

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

Like a pigeon from hell
The Red Death tripped the light fantastic in the door
To a nation helmed by a megalomaniac so wrapped up in himself
That he didn't hear it knocking
He didn't see it coming
He didn't smell the decay
Of the bodies lying in the streets
He was too busy tasting the saccharine
Of the lies he told himself
About how wonderful he was
To touch upon the truth
And so he heard the death knell
As a victory march
And his mind burst forth fireworks
In celebration of his assured triumph
Donald Trump, the despot monarch
Of the land of the freely dying
He said he didn't see this coming
Then argued that he always saw it coming
And took to Twitter to shitpost
Some stupid memes he cooked up
To magically distract from his cock-up
As the Red Death painted the town
King Don said the Red Death was all the fault
Of the Lamestream Media
And Hillary Clinton's emails
And Obama's microwave
Because they let the Chinese Virus
Come across the Mexican border
He emitted smoke from seven orifices 
Proclaiming he had other pussies to whip
So Nancy Pelosi better stop ironing his head
Raving narcissist lacking empathy
As stable as a sleeping volcano
Being rudely awakened
He flew through the corridors of the White House
Proclaiming "that ornery old lady Cie is a nasty woman"
"I will lock her up!" he cried
"She claims I am bigly responsible
For the Red Death dancing through the streets
But I will pound his ass into a quivering jelly
Because I am a very stable genius"
King Don continued ranting
Det ligger en hund begraven
There was no magic in this moment
The American flag dropped to the ground in despair
Night fell over the homeless sleeping in parking lots in Las Vegas

~sly has spoken~

image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com



notes
This poem was penned by my politically-minded alter-ego, Sly Fawkes
Here is the list of prompts followed to create this poem.

Also included are the prompt Moment (for April PAD Challenge Day 5) and Magic(for April PAD Countdown Catch-Up Day 5)

Begin the poem with a metaphor.
Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
Use a phrase from a language other than English.
Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.

Det ligger en hund begraven means "there's a dog buried here," a metaphor for someone not telling the complete truth.

Friday, April 3, 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 3 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 3 + April PAD Countdown Catch-Up Day 7: Follow the Leader Down the Road to Hell

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

Follow Dear Leader
Down the road to hell
As he spouts lies and bullshit
Out both sides of his mouth

People are dying of a contagious disease
For which there is currently no cure
He advises us to pack the churches
Because apparently thoughts and prayers will make us immune

If only 100,000 people die
He will have done a really good job, he says
Do not be afraid, because
His ratings are better than The Bachelor's
And his ranking on Facebook is at an all-time high

Surely you will sleep better tonight knowing
That Dear Leader is tweeting in the third person
About his Bigly popularity
Just have a cup of covfefe and relax
Don the Con is in charge

~Sly Has Spoken~

Courtesy of my politically opinionated alter-ego Sly Fawkes
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Sly is feeling the Bern again
But she will vote blue no matter who



notes
The only prompt I followed today was the April PAD challenge prompt. I wasn't feeling the NaNoWriMo prompt and the day 7 PAD countdown prompt didn't quite fit.

Friday, October 11, 2019

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 11: Silence the Dissenting Bitches

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

in the echo chamber
chamber at the center
center of the chaos
chaos when you enter

the noise of your mindless mind
mind that you mind your p's and q's, bitches
bitches submit to the muzzle
muzzle the dissenting witches

gag them from the first unwanted kiss
kiss, just kiss, move on her like a bitch
bitch don't want it, what the bitch want don't matter
matter one iota if you get to scratch your itch

no respect for women, you can do anything
anything you want so long as you're a star
star in your own movie in your narcissistic head
head right off to prison and be a star behind bars

~Sly Has Spoken~


Notes:
This eviscerating verse was snarled out by Cie's badly behaved radical harridan alter-ego, Sly Fawkes, who wishes to remind you of the following words spoken by Emperor Commodus Trump and caught on tape. Sly is thrilled that The Humiliation of the American People appears to be going down in flames, and she has popcorn, hot dogs, and marshmallows ready to roast over the impeachment inferno.

“I moved on her like a bitch, but I couldn’t get there. And she was married.”

“I did try and fuck her. She was married.”

“Just kiss. I don’t even wait. When you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.”

“Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”


Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com



Friday, October 4, 2019

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 4: Gilded Cage

Image by cocoparisienne from Pixabay

A cage
Whether silver, gold, or platinum
Or wrought iron
Is still a cage

Do not follow
The edicts of charismatic cons
Do not strive to become
What others have told you that you must be

Do not wait on a messiah
Who may be centuries away
Or a boogeyman conjured
To keep people compliant

Only you can set you free

Do not let what advertisers tell you
You must be in order to be "beautiful"
Keep you locked away
Closed off from the world

Don't let the quest for silver and gold
Trap you in a crate of greed
Until your need for wealth
Becomes more a coffin than a birdcage

Only you can set you free

~Cie~


Song Inspiration:

Saturday, October 13, 2018

OctPoWriMo 2018: Day 13: National Disgrace


Being kind is
What everyone should do
Do you?
You do not
Not do right
Right is might
Might you consider
Consider the absolute
Absolute power
Power corrupts
Corrupts when misused
Misused to abuse
Abuse those you see
See as less
Less than nothing
Nothing is what
What you discover
Discover within 
Within your rotten
Rotten, shriveled heart
Heart hard as stone
Stone over graves
Graves of those
Those who died
Died in vain
Vain sacrifice
Sacrifice for what
What but ambition
Ambition of soulless
Soulless rich men
Men who don't care
Care for anything
Anything but money
Money to buy
Buy the best tomb
Tomb to commemorate
Commemorate their lives
Lives full of lies
Lies always bellowing 
Bellowing forth
Forth from your mouth
Mouth always open
Open like a sewer
Sewer spewing waste
Waste of words
Words of deception
Deception of the masses
Masses left wanting
Wanting
Masses

~Sly Has Spoken~

Note:
Written by Cie's civic-minded alter-ego, Sly Fawkes.
Dedicated to the crook in the White House

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com