Join us every Monday evening for drinks at the Daily Kos community political poetry club. Drop by and speak your mind in rhyme or blank verse. Poetry is always welcome in the comments. Let’s use language to scream our passion to the world. Bongos, berets and turtle neck sweaters are optional. The keypad is mightier than the sword.
There are a lot of great things about working on a farm.
A reliable internet connection is not among them. But as fortune would have it, we've got her up and running again, and at least on the right day. This concludes the excuses portion, now onto apologies.
Sorry I'm late. Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa.
No theme this week. The title is nonsensical.
Ok, so, let's just get the Weiner thing out of the way, shall we?
This Whole Poem is Pretty Much a Dick Joke
Weiner's weiner teetered on the brink of infamy.
Tweeted and repeated by a goaty tweet ID
Surprising, rising, sizing up the confines of its sheath.
Straining the restraints of Hanes's comfy boxer breifs.
One wonders, "Why was Weiner's weiner pasted on the screen
For four, for four whole minutes, when it's obviously obscene?"
Would Weiner's wine waylay his mind, wiping wisdom away?
Why, why would Weiner's weiner ever see the light of day?
A coed corresponded congress, counting it for class
Followed by fallow followers, who followed fairly fast.
Harrassing, asking crassly of the congressmen she'd lay.
Brooding rudely, ruminating of a special day.
Is Weiner such a weiner, weaning women to his weiner
With the world wide web, when wistful whisperings are so much cleaner?
The thought that twits on twitter tweeted tallywhackers tends
To taper toward the torrid travesty of tory trends.
Goaty's gloating grated greatly, gathering a guise.
"Behold! A blooming boner bulging right before your eyes!
Straining, surging, strengthening, and sounding its advance!
Bursting forth to break the surly bonds of underpants!"
Intrepid-eyed investigators intimated thus:
Forsooth! Fantastic fakery shall fizzle out the fuss.
When Whisperings of Weiner's weary weiner wither while
The twitter's top T.P. twit tweets the trappings of his trial.
Breitbart's batshit bullshit's bound to be a bag of bunk
Jeapordizing journalism, dripping jpeg'd junk
Everyone expected everything to end just fine
When Wiener (what a weiner) said "That woody weiner's mine"
So stops a short sad story, showing sack's a social sin
Prepare, paraiah, for the preaching, pacing puritans.
And Tattletale McTattlepants' tweets 'twill twitter on:
"In Weiner vs Weiner's weiner, Weiner's weiner won."
Fun fact: "Weiner" appears 20 times in this poem.
And since I'm me, I couldn't not do a limerick. I mean, come on.
A congressman suffered a hiccup
From a tweet of a pic of his dick up.
Its size gained great fame,
Wait, hey! Mine looks the same!
Now I guess I can trade in my pickup.
That concludes the sophmoric portion of tonight's offering. For the remainder, I offer you contradictory messages, all of them true:
Portrait of a Recurring Brainwave
It
Builds up
Gradually.
Inch by inch and
Little by little
It worms its way into
The collective consciousness,
Becoming more prominent as
We consider alternatives when
It latches on to errant synapses.
It is the idea of a revolution.
It is the idea that we can overthrow hate.
It is the idea that we can defy tyranny.
It is the idea that we can overcome poverty.
It is the idea that we can defeat corporatocracy.
It is the dream of victory over the forces of evil.
It is the dream of vanquishing the ever present landed gentry.
It is the fancy of rising above the rat race, living life freely.
It is the fancy of making a life outside the corrupt society.
It is the yearning to bring power to its knees and live in perfect harmony.
It takes shape in the minds of unusual people and ebbs and flows with time.
It rises and falls in the psyche of people who dream of true freedom.
It alternates with apathy, creating a roller coaster ride,
Wherein it primes the pump of malcontented and anarchic thought,
Receding occasionally to form context and action.
It is the idea that we can trancend plutocracy.
It is the idea that we can transmit happiness.
It is the idea that we can transform the world.
It is the idea that we were made to love.
It is the idea of revolution.
It clings on to errant synapses
When we start to think differently.
The collective consciousness
Sees fit to pursue it
Little by little,
Inch by inch and
Gradually
Makes it
So.
Amazing
All is fulfilling and
Life is amazing.
Chickens are chatting the
Home team is batting and
Life is amazing.
Happiness rising and
Hearts realizing that
Spirits are singing and
Life is amazing.
Children are playing and
People are saying that
They've started thinking and
Beer's cold for drinking and
Life is amazing.
Knowing that showing the
Comings and goings of
People to people's hearts
Ready for growing has
Many minds opening's
Fucking amazing!
Planning and scheming are
Fun while daydreaming or
Writing or filming but
Living with meaning is
Going with flowing while
Giving and growing and
Life is amazing
Giving, receiving,
Forgetting, beleiving,
Forgiving, embracing,
Aspiring, acheiving,
Relaxing, relating,
Enchanting, elating,
Romancing, you're asking if
Life is amazing?
Sharing is caring but
Pairing is daring and
Seeing and freeing is
Best when comparing to
Locking the shackles 'round
Lovers you're shagging, no
Pushing no shoving just
Being with beings and
Life is amazing.
Breathing and dreaming and
Life is amazing.
Ok to restart?
The System is Down.
The resolutions are unfailingly delayed.
Poverty presents the peasant's incentive.
Productivity is taken for granted.
Lauded laws lift the already lofty, and
Hamstring and hobble the hobbling.
The System is Down.
The righteous are unjustly detained.
The violent fill seats of power while
The peaceful populate prisons.
The expansion of one's mind is a sin
Greater than the theft of a thousand lives.
The System is Down.
The rewards are unfairly distributed.
We dishonor the honorable, all the while
Giving ourselves to the selfish.
Friendly corpses fertilize the fields of corruption
And the wicked reap the harvest.
The System is Down.
The resources are unevenly divided.
The producers are unable to consume.
The consumers are unwilling to produce.
Those who toil are embroiled with hardship.
While those who have the most contribute the least.
The System is Down.
The System is Down.
The System will not tolerate environmental disinfection.
Like a sink full of dirty dishes in a house full of surly roommates
The atmosphere inches toward uninhabitability.
The cost of cleanup cannot be borne by the many
And will not be borne by the few.
The System is Down.
The system will not tolerate empathetic decisions.
Sharing and caring are paired with a monolithic evil
While hatred masquerades as strength.
The mighty build moats to buttress their overabundance
And a man's home is now someone else's castle.
The System is Down
The System will not tolerate effective democracy.
Only two teams in the league and all the players
Collect from a common corporate account.
Donations detract from deeds due the destitute
While wealthy whites absorb the whole god damn rainbow.
The System is Down.
The System will not tolerate equitable distribution.
The backbone must ever break itself
To meet the infinite needs of the appendix.
Real life Risk risks the Rich nothing,
And Monopoly isn't just a board game.
The System is Down.
The System is Down.
The resolutions are unfailingly delayed.
The System will not tolerate environmental disinfection.
The system will not tolerate empathetic decisions.
The righteous are unjustly detained.
The System is Down.
The System is Down.
The rewards are unfairly distributed.
The System will not tolerate effective democracy.
The System will not tolerate equitable distribution.
The resources are unevenly divided.
The System is Down.
The System is Down.
The System is Down.