Poetry, Got something? ...Shtick it here..
Feb 12 2007, 12:32 PM
Group: Valued Member
Joined: 3-February 07
Member No.: 551
Hope you enjoy this...
Und nun, liebe kinder, gebt fein acht:
Die wahrheit wird zu sand gemacht!
...Den streut man jenen in die Augen
die niemals fragen- alles glauben...
Die volle wahrheit zu ertragen
steht jenen an die Fragen fragen-
Nur dem der sie zu stellen wagt:
Und Gott hilf dem der Fragen fragt!
(My children- come and see this land
were truth has long since turned to sand
which wind will blow into the eyes
of those who never question lies...
The truth to bear is for those men
who dare to question- and who then
make asking their most pressing task:
And God help those who dare to ask...)
All material marked "W. J. B" is my own; anyone wanting to make use of this- feel free to do so (except commercial use, that is); just don't remove the "W.J.B", please. -Devilsadvocate-
This post has been edited by Devilsadvocate: Oct 6 2007, 11:36 AM
Feb 1 2008, 07:16 PM
Group: Core Member
Joined: 18-February 07
From: Maryland, USA
Member No.: 633
This was a poem written on the occasion of Scooter Libby's pardon. My usual offerings are exactly 150 words long to conform to the requirements of our local newspaper. In a weekly forum feature, the editorial page editor poses a question each week. I usually try to provide my answer in a poem, but the word limit is 150 words - no exceptions. This one is an exception because I missed the deadline, so I expanded it, luxuriating in the extra space.
Bush the commuter, liberates Scooter
Itís now official, Scooterís free
He dodges prison, yes siree,
The prez commuted all the time
That he faced for the loathsome crime
Of treason, oh, I know, that he
Was only charged with perjury
For lying through his teeth when they
Inquired of plots Ďgainst CIA
Brewster-Jennings and Valerie
Were outed at behest of the
Vice President, the aged hack
Hell-bent on warring Ďgainst Iraq
With Bushís act we understand
His meaning when declaiming grand†
If staff were guilty, he would see
That ďtaken care ofĒ, they would be
Well, Scooterís taken care of, sure,
He need not fear the slamming door
Of dungeon drear, or prison dank
Heís rich, heís white,†so letís be frank
And save your protests, screams, and moans
That rule of lawís been overthrown
When crimínals are the rulers, see
They donít have time for you or me
But Scooterís in Deciderís tribe
No matter what, be satisfied
That he will always beat the rap
Get back in line, and shut your trap
And Karl Rove, what of he, you say?
Renewed his clearance yesterday
To handle secrets of the state
Made Bush men have no fear of fate.
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