This post was called:
Poetry against the machine
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Here is another poem from the drawers of my soul…
If nothing else, it proves I was building a raging anger against our political system even in my early teens. It was typed on a typewriter… (if you can imagine such a thing)…
Many of you will be too young to remember how the Watergate scandal shocked our nation. How we, the people, lost faith in our leaders. How we could no longer trust the people we elected to have our best interests at heart.
The more things change, the more they remain the same…
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Political Persuasions… or Nixon’s Fixens, the story of a President’s Demise…
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Remember Nixon and Watergate?
The President you just loved to hate,
And how the country couldn’t wait,
To meet to him his proper fate…
For failure in affairs of State,
And trusting not his running mate,
Dinners for a thousand bucks a plate,
But I fear we were a little late…
Tapes were erased on many a date,
Nixon’s peons did not hesitate,
At unlocking doors they were just great…
‘Tis enough to make one meditate,
Just how honest is the great debate?
Like a little green apple I once ate,
This causes my stomach to percolate…
I do not mean to intimidate,
But surely we should concentrate,
Our future rests with the delegate,
With the best of President’s he must rate…
He must not pause at any gate,
In short, must be exemplarate,
But Nixon with his addled pate,
That tricky Dick of a reprobate,
Who now writes books, that he may relate,
How he helped our country deteriorate…
A fisher for souls with greed as his bait,
He landed before the magistrate,
Who, following a common legal trait,
Postponed, that the matter would self-dissapate,
Rather than infect and contaminate,
The public, whom it might then alienate,
Causing anarchy itself to coagulate,
With violence on which I’ll not calculate…
“This must not be allowed to circulate,”
“Cover up, the mob we must placate,”
“Allow this not to instigate,”
“Trouble we can not eradicate,”
But Pandora had already opened this crate,
It was not then time to celebrate,
With Dick behind the black ball, number….eight…
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I am proud of the fact that I came up with that many words that rhymed with Watergate. I did not even have a Thesaurus in those days…
It might seem funnier if you Google Watergate, but why depress yourself…
Pouring My Art Out 
Pretty impressive, Art. Tells pretty much the whole story in a really Dr. Zeus kind of way.
thanks
Bravo! I have one of those only from an even scarier time!
do tell…
Cold War – I was budding kid poet.
Hey… me too
Nooooooo……:-) Really?
I forget who I tell what to…
just joshing…rare to find another kid poet, if ever I met one.
most of the poems I post I wrote when I was a teen
nice. yours are amusing; dare I say funny! The few I have read, that is. Congrats on selling your first book, by the way.
I might be up to 30 or more sold by now, out of the three books.
Yes! I think that fantastic!
me too… thanks
and thanks.
Thanks for making me smile and laugh!
well… that is sort of what I do here, isn’t it???
my friends call me queen if the obvious. Good title.
obviously… uh… I mean…
Queen of the obvious – typing in the dark doesn’t work for oqoto.
Ha… I spotted that, but I am a horrible speller even in the light… so…
You really meted out the rhymes there.
Oh, I might even have meated them pout.
out… not pout… why do I not proofread my comments before hitting the button?