poem of psychological / social satire
The Empire
poem of psychological / social satire
Poor Caesar, as a troubled child
Had dreams that sometimes made him wild
Took up his sword, fought far from Rome
Then dreamed his land said 'Welcome home.'
Napoleon felt all a dither
His right hand here, his left one thither
Felt ill at ease about his height
'I'll compensate with all my might.'
Oh Adolph, Adolph, what a clot
Believed the Jews the only blot
And Poles. And French. And Ruskies too.
Adolph, Adolph, perhaps it's you?
Most every child knows they're the best
All evil safely in 'the rest'
Perfect empire - a noble vision
This is our task - an inner mission
In mystery we incarnate
Our souls refine, our bodies date
We're our own smiths, the Earth's our forge
Please, pay attention little George
(for white people in White Houses)
poem of psychological / social satire
Poor Caesar, as a troubled child
Had dreams that sometimes made him wild
Took up his sword, fought far from Rome
Then dreamed his land said 'Welcome home.'
Napoleon felt all a dither
His right hand here, his left one thither
Felt ill at ease about his height
'I'll compensate with all my might.'
Oh Adolph, Adolph, what a clot
Believed the Jews the only blot
And Poles. And French. And Ruskies too.
Adolph, Adolph, perhaps it's you?
Most every child knows they're the best
All evil safely in 'the rest'
Perfect empire - a noble vision
This is our task - an inner mission
In mystery we incarnate
Our souls refine, our bodies date
We're our own smiths, the Earth's our forge
Please, pay attention little George
(for white people in White Houses)
Part 2 of Skyelights is nearly ready and will be here within a few days.
#11
#11
1 comments:
I am liking of this poem. As my hut is painted white, I am the honored that you wrote it for me.I have now written as treat for you, one one ,and all your blogment readers on the web of the wide world, some of my experience on my trip back from goat festival.
Travelogue of Amur
AKA-Amur of the Presley
Part 1-I visit London of the England
When I did arrive in the London, I decide to be going shopping. I stopped in Cess, Poole & Drayne book sellers. I then buy your latest novel-The Propagation of Rose canes in Fixed Aggregate. It was the most wonderful murder mystery. -I then did sight see. I saw the Ben of the bigness clock. I then go to pub of drinking and asked bar man for a tankard of his finest fermented goat milk. He did laugh upon me in all rudeness so I did leave. I the decide to ride a tall bus. Again more the rudeness as driver would not allow goat on bus. What is wrong with Englandians that they are so the rude. I then go to Bucky's Ham palace so Queen can meet me. There I was assaulted by men in tall hats who would not let queen meet me. I then tire of all this rudeness and decide to travel on. But first I did go to Abbey Road recording studio to talk to the Beetle men. I knock on door and am told Beetle men have not been there in years. It is of the too bad as I had written a Number one song for them. They would have course made me fifth Beetle man. Amur,John,Paul George and Ringo. I am liking the sound of it. And now I travel on. You must now wait in all agonies for Part 2 of travelogue entitled:
My visit to Bude of the Cornwall
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