Ugh

 

I found this on the free table outside a local used book store.  It made me hate poetry all over again.

A poem by Pulitzer Prize winner Bob Woodward

I think the press

and I

in particular

should have been

...more aggressive

in looking...

at the run-up

to

the

Iraq war,

and specifically

the alleged...

intelligence...

that Iraq

had weapons

of

mass

destruction

stockpiles.

And now...

...a poem by Helen Thomas and Tony Snow.

Yes, the President.

The President

is in the war every day.
Come on.

That isn't my question.
If you ask any President

who is a Commander-in-Chief --
On the front lines --
The President.

A poem for Scooter Sentencing Day

Scooter just got a 2 and a half year prison sentence.

Sweet.

That's what you get for outing a covert agent you prick.

If there was any real justice his old boss would be sentenced to life in Gitmo.

And his boss would be sent to the Hauge and tossed in Slobodan's old cell,

and left to rot

and to die a slow painfull death while getting depleted uranium enemas.

Oh yeah, one more thing,

flowers are pretty and sunsets are nice as well.

Poems about women we love, or Is that a sestina in your pocket or are you just glad to see me

Women of Code Pink

Oh peacemakers,

your fiery tactics inspire us.

Your colorful plumage makes you easy to spot

those precious few times when the

corporate media lets us

glimpse your fair visages.

You stand up and you speak out

for peace, for justice, for all.

In a world engulfed in war,

in a country led by an idiot,

in a time of unparalleled corporate greed,

you are the beer we drink when our thirst

overwhelms us.

Rachel Maddow

Siren of the progressive airwaves

we hear you out here in

purple America.

Siren of the left

we see you after the moon has

chased the sun from the sky.

Siren, you fill our heads with wisdom

and our eyes with your boyish

yet feminine good looks.

Siren, we know you are lesbian,

not that there anything

wrong with that,

but we have a crush on you anyway.

Sirens go off when you appear on

Countdown with Olbermann.

Hearts flutter when we listen to your

voice via the series of

tubes known as the internets.

Long may you speak,

long may you appear on

the only TV news show we trust,

long may your close cropped hair

fall on your cranium.

And as someone else

once said in a rock and roll song,

"Long may you run."