corrupt politicians poems

Whitehouse Wizards | Langley Shazor

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Magicians weave spellbinding tales
Captivating onlookers
Shifting perspectives
Mesmerizing our eyes while holding our breath
Hostage
This sleight of hand
Grants us permission to assume we have it solved
All the while
Moving us in the opposite direction
These sorcerers keep us confused
With mythically mystical abilities
We are held prisoner under their trance
Hypnotized
Confined to a reality they create
Our lifeless avatars
Sway with the wave of a palm
The truth is never revealed
Such proper illusionists

Potus | Stan Morrison

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you are just some highway billboard
a colorful slick message of evil intent
around back only tall grass and weeds

you’re some horse-mounted statue
an enormous hollow bronze figure

in truth your are malignantly incompetent
you are ever so shockingly irretrievable
that finally no one can believe the opposite

The Dream Thieves | Neil Creighton

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In sleep I saw a House of Dreams,
golden doors open wide,
liberty written on its walls,
equality glowing inside.

Then came the smiling thieves
in tailored suits and ties,
deceitful intent glibly oiled
by their well practised lies.

Inside, they plundered all its treasure,
stripped all the jewelled beams,
carried away the golden orbs
that lit the House of Dreams.

They left the merest appearance,
a painted, empty facade,
and everything that they spewed out
was stained deceptive fraud.

I awoke drenched and shivering
from the horror I had seen,
blood now oozing through the door
of the ruined House of Dreams.

More at https://windofflowers.blogspot.com.au.

A Piece of Paper | Chris Byrne

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Is it what controls all?
Or is it the elected
Just lobbying
Forsaking the good
Getting greedy
Making profit
Whilst in office
Pretending to look after
Our interests or their vested
Interests?
Maybe it’s just a piece
Of paper blinded by
Reality not seeing the
Bigger picture.

A Simple Truth | Gil Hoy

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For so long as the NRA
controls Congress

With its pumping poison
mutant lifeblood

Corrupting souls,
buying silence,

Innocents will
continue to die

From high-powered
weapons of war

As lone wolves sing
their rancid noteless songs:

A witch’s brew of shrill
staccato tempo

That our numbed eyes
don’t hear anymore

and that tastes
forgotten anyway.

National Call to Service | Francis Annagu

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The weekly newspaper
Announced the government spending.
The road and dam projects
Were abandoned to rowdy campaigns.
The extravagant contractors denied,
Silence of the trucks like the troubled night.
Violent ragtags trooped the streets
With over-heated hands jittering for a fight,
Only for something the vultures roam in the sky,
The eagle’s glory is his prolonged flight.
The call to national service overtakes
The old pot of greed, but the merchants
For the loot, as the famished boy
Throws his stones from the colony of poverty.
This is a national call to serve the people,
Not a call to steal from the national pot.
The vision lied several seasons
On the mountain top, a vision
Of the great to heed the greatest vision.
—–
Francis Annagu is the author of “Our Land In The Beak Of Vultures” (Hesterglock Press, 2017). His works have appeared in Expound Magazine, Potomac Journal, Lunaris Review and others.

Make America Good Again | Stan Morrison

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Jerk at all trades
Telling us it’s a win
Failing all grades
While doing us in
Coward and weakling
Tweeting us to riot
Morbidly obese king
We don’t have to buy it
No school transcripts
And no tax returns
Surrounded by misfits
While the US yearns
No more years

Trompe Rational Anthem | Stan Morrison

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Everything I do is always right
So when I speak or offer advice
Keep you mouth shut, be polite
The losers always hit a dry spell
But my word’s the holy gospel
The word perfection underserves me
No one on earth really deserves me
There’s one thing that I still don’t get
Why hasn’t my divinity caught on yet
Even if you prove I’m wrong
When your memory has gone
I’ll finally be vindicated
Just as I have indicted
ALWAYS RIGHT!
While you easily see my lies on video tapes
Some alternative facts provide quick escapes
With endless insults and distortions
I blow the trivial out of all proportion
You’ll never know what I own or owe
You can’t figure out which way to go
impeach, arrest or just surrender
Colliding with me’ll be your worst fender bender
What serves me best as we roll along
I’m always right, you’re always wrong!
I bless the United States of America.
Amen.

Elect | John L. Stanizzi

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The air has mass. We breathe in a thickness
made weighty by the acicular words
that roil and topple, and the black rags of
loathing snap, and multitudes of wretched
screaming mouths wrest what light there was from the
eyes of the hopeful, wrapping it in hate,
in sotted shadows, dimity nylon
masks that stretch over fear and anger, the
noses bent and twisted, recognition
vanished, a horrid molding of neighbors’
faces into gnarled and grim phantasms
tumbling like Frost’s magnified apples, the
rumble of discontentment, and whatever
trepidation I must overcome I
can’t name, though each sense seems lined with despair.

More at http://www.johnlstanizzi.com.

Carousel of Lies | Ken Allan Dronsfield

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Round and round the liar goes
of dust to dawn and back again
crowns of briers, throne of nails
tell us a tale of the orange whale.
King of lies, speak in fiery breath
one more story of the raw untruth
cast away all cares, until icy death
contempt follows from early youth.
Burn in hell, you savor the flavor
flames lick cheeks, burning tongue
carry a dare into the devil’s favor
Carousel of lies you dance upon.

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