Category Archives: Politics

Fareed Zakaria is Stealing my Stuff

I was watching Fareed Zakaria and Don Lemon on CNN last Friday night; they were trying to make sense of  the ongoing tragic farce that is the Trump White House and Don Lemon posed a question which could be summarised as follows : “Is Donald Trump crazy like a fox or crazy like a fool”. It was clear that Fareed thinks that the needle has been stuck on ‘fool’ for quite some time. At one point, he says to Don something like “look, you have to understand that Donald Trump is a performance artist.” This sounded familiar to me, so I looked back through my blog posts and there it was in a poem I published on Reuben Wooley’s website :’I am not a Silent Poet” back in January 2016. Here’s the poem, but please click on the link above and check out Reuben’s excellent site.

Trumped

I get it now

Donald T

Is a performance artist

Like that guy in Beijing

Sucking dust out of the air

With a vacuum cleaner

Or maybe he’s

one of those mirrors

In a fairy tale

Reflecting only

The worst in ourselves.

 

Fareed, I’m waiting to hear from you.

 

American Carnage

wu-2-3

American Carnage

Not the export it used to be,

nothing like the glory days

Hiroshima, Vietnam, Cambodia;

still popular at home tho’

nearly twelve thousand gun deaths a year

the gun barrel points both ways.

This is not much of a poem, is it?

That last metaphor was a bit clumsy

and there’s no music in statistics

but there is a rhyme in that last line

and there’s assonance in ‘American Carnage’

and there is an ass in the White House

but enough about that

stay away from the low hanging fruit

we need a rhyme

carnage, baggage, garbage, image

imagine all the people

that’s what this situation needs

a protest singer, a protest song

three chords and a chorus

that we can sway and link arms to

Where are you

Josh (Ritter)

Michael (Stipe)

Bruce ?

Post-Election Rag

(Walk that back

walk that back

I know I said it

but I walked that back.)

 

Attack dog surrogates

inveterate invertebrates

re-stock the swamp

with old white males.

 

Post logic, post truth

snake oil and kool-aid

re-stock the swamp

with old white males.

 

Post Obamacare,

post pussy-gate, post gator aid

re-stock the swamp

with old white males

 

Inveterate surrogates

attack dog invertebrates

re-mail the stock

to the old white swamp

 

re-stock the swamp

with old white males.

 

 

The Unconventional Republican (remix)

The center folds

and all ’round topple

into the opening void,

what rough beast

rabble in tow

slouches towards Washington

bursting with tawdry pomp

and irrational schemes.

 

A few notes, this poem of course echoes and directly quotes “The Second Coming” by WB Yeats, a poem which was written after the first World War and still resonates today. For a brilliant analysis of the poem, read “Break, Blow, Burn” by Camille Paglia. The Irish jazz singer, Christine Tobin has put the poem to music on a CD called “Sailing to Byzantium” which is well worth checking out.

The Trump Collection (5 poems)

Well, despite the best efforts of a clown car of cartoon contestants and the ridicule heaped on him by John Oliver, Trevor Noah, Bill Maher, Samantha Bee and all those late night satirists,  Donald Trump is about to win the Republican Party nomination; he is about to become the winner he has always claimed to be. Time to review this blog’s vain efforts to stop this behemoth. Here they are in order of appearance, as they move from ridicule to outrage to reflection to fear and finally an appeal to a higher power.

Donald Trump (a slimverse)

Donald T

court jester

hair today

tomorrow?

 

The Level of Discourse

I want to say a few words

About the level of discourse

How low can it go?

How low can it go

When a candidate for the presidency

Of the United States

Gets up on television

And mocks, mimics, ridicules

A disabled man

And the media endlessly debate

Whether he intended to or not

When he plainly did

And the members of his party

Refuse to criticize him

Refuse to say that

This is beneath our dignity,

Perhaps dignity

Has left the room

Has left the United States of America,

And these same party members

Pride themselves

On their rugged individualism

Their boots on the ground machismo

And oh how they love their Hitler analogies

But when a trumped up

Pumped up tin pot bully

Emerges from their own ranks

They are too chickenshit to say anything

How low can it go?

The level of discourse

How low can it go?

 

Trumped

I get it now

Donald T

Is a performance artist

Like that guy in Beijing

Sucking dust out of the air

With a vacuum cleaner

Or maybe he’s one of those mirrors

In a fairy tale

Reflecting only

The worst in ourselves.

 

The above poem also appeared on https://iamnotasilentpoet.wordpress.com/2016/01/20/trumped-by-jim-feeney/

 

Watching the Republican Debates

potus

poultice

poultry

poetry

podcast

pomegranate

pornography

porridge

pork

only

one

of

the

above

is

a

lethal

weapon

when

given

to

a

fool

 

Super Saturday

There’s a dog wearing a tartan skirt

outside the window of Starbuck’s;

a tartan skirt, a belt, and a knitted white sweater.

Its little dog legs are moving furiously

on the wet pavement,

across the slick road

and the sodden green park

the ocean sits

like a slab of lead

having clearly decided

to take some time off,

no crashing on the shore today.

South of the border

A bigoted bully with a head

like a bloated turnip

is moving towards

the presidency of the United States,

and God, once again,

is moving in mysterious ways

but I, for one, wish he would knock it off,

enough already with the mystery

for once in your eternal life,

clarify something,

I mean, for Chrissakes,

there’s a dog wearing a tartan skirt

outside the window of Starbuck’s.

 

There you go, the poetry’s a bit rough and ready but that goes with the territory. That’s probably enough about Donald for a while. It’s hard to argue logically against statements that have no logic to begin, against policy that doesn’t exist except as cynical manipulation but most of all I can’t get interested. He’s had his twenty minutes. I’m bored. I’m bored with Donald. I’m bored with the people who believe what he says.  Little Marco is gone, lyin’ Ted is gone and we are left with boring Donald (#boringdonald). Until I get irritated again………

 

 

 

 

The Level Of Discourse (Donald Trump,The Republican Party and Hitler Analogies)

The Level of Discourse

I want to say a few words

About the level of discourse

How low can it go?

How low can it go

When a candidate for the presidency

Of the United States

Gets up on television

And mocks, mimics, ridicules

A disabled man

And the media endlessly debate

Whether he intended to or not

When he plainly did

And the members of his party

Refuse to criticize him

Refuse to say that

This is beneath our dignity,

Perhaps dignity

Has left the room

Has left the United States of America,

And these same party members

Pride themselves

On their rugged individualism

Their boots on the ground machisimo

And oh how they love their Hitler analogies

But when a trumped up

Pumped up tin pot bully

Emerges from their own ranks

They are too chickenshit to say anything

How low can it go?

The level of discourse

How low can it go?