The Year in Verse
A Politickles Retrospective
1. Reconnect with a special old friend
2. Earn a few dollars more than I spend
3. Try to concentrate solely
On becoming more holy
4. Make it all the way through to year’s end.
Tis the season of change and of hope —
The kind that is real and not soap —
But, to meet your Messiah,
You will have to look higher
Than some fast-talking, power-mad dope.
There is nothing quite so pleasant
As an instant evanescent:
With the past behind
And no future defined,
We are given the perfect present.
Fraudster the Snowman
Was an enterprising pol,
With a trust-fund life
And an upturned nose
And a heart made out of coal.
Was a senator, they say.
He was made of snow,
But the voters know
How he came to life one day.
Those tight blue jeans they found,
For when they placed them on his legs
He began to dance around.
Found a way to live for free.
While the people pay,
He could laugh and play
And drive around in an SUV.
Look at Fraudster go.
O the bilge of snow!
Knew the sun was hot some days,
So he said, “I’ll hoax
All the stupid folks
And get myself a big pay raise.”
With a hockey stick in hand
And some bogus graphs
And some doctored stats
Showing crisis for the land.
Where the facts came out at last,
But he never once admitted that
He was just plain full of crap.
Liked to always have his way,
So he waved goodbye
Saying, “Don’t deny,
I’ll be back again some day.”
Look at Fraudster go.
O the bilge of snow!
The poor Tinman is lacking a heart,
While the Scarecrow is not very smart;
And the King of the Forest,
Expected to roar best,
Is reluctant to play a brave part.
To Arabian shieks he’ll kowtow,
And the Japanese emperor now,
But the one we elect
Ought to show his respect
With a handshake and never a bow.
“Let me thank every person I should,
Compliment how they did so much good,
Send a shout-out to Crow,
Make some promises — Oh,
And then mention the thing at Ft. Hood.”
Global warming was always in doubt,
But they pushed it with all of their clout:
If those climate-change crooks
Really cooked all the books,
Then what else were we lied to about?
Halloween we all shout “Trick or Treat!”
As we hit every house on the street.
The next morning we wake
With a bad stomach ache,
‘Cause we had too much candy to eat.
“My poor siblings and I are so sad:
He’s the best friend that we ever had,
With a heart of pure gold,
But he has gotten old,
And it’s time that we euthanize Dad.”
There’s “safe sex” and “safe schools” and “safe touch,”
“Safe this” and “safe that” and “safe such,”
But, if “safe” now means “queer”
And is said with a leer,
The word “safe” doesn’t comfort me much.
Getting older, you may realize
That your waistline’s a much larger size,
But Obama’s stayed slim,
Having kept himself trim:
Let’s award him the No-Belly Prize!
“We are undermining resistance
With our carefully plotted persistence:
Rather than disparage
The institution of marriage,
We’re defining it out of existence.”
“Now, children, please don’t cry.
It’s time to say goodbye.
Today’s the day
We booked in May:
It’s Grandma’s turn to die.”
A gangster hired an advisor
To make the “wise guy” wiser:
“If you want to take over,
I advise a makeover
As ‘community organizer.'”
He played green but was red to the bones
In a White House chockfull of his clones.
It is good that Van goes
And the public now knows
What to make of the man who hired Jones.
“Uniforms are the ultimate tool
To ensure academic renewal —
Think of Junior how cute
In his little MAO* suit,
Getting ready to head off to school!”
*Mandated Academic Outfit
It was time for a tip of the hat
And to lay it on thick from a vat;
There was only one fly
In the ointment applied:
That the “lion” was really a rat.
“We misread what the candidate’s ‘change’ meant
And rejected the prior arrangement;
Having now had our fill
Of this radical’s swill,
We are feeling a growing estrangement.”
“We would never overtly deny
Any care we’re prepared to supply;
If we do have to ration,
With a practiced compassion
We’ll decide who deserves most to die.”
If your neighbor had something to dish, he
May regret what he said and now wish he
Had not spilled his gut
And had kept his mouth shut —
If the thing that he said sounded fishy.
When in reason and faith understood,
It promotes a profound common good;
But, when used to defend a
“Social justice” betrays brotherhood.
If an honest and well-meaning cop
Doesn’t know when he better had stop,
He is bound to regret
The abuse he will get
For arresting a world-famous fop.
When our candidates vie for a post,
We Americans rightfully boast:
The position will go
To the one who can show
He’s the one who will offer the most.
When I got an idea that was big,
A round bulb would light over my wig,
But now incandescents
Are replaced by fluorescents
And it looks like the tail of a pig.
If it seems that the things you believe’ll
Lead to ugliness and to upheaval,
If you find that you revel
In dissent like the devil,
Then perhaps your belief system’s evil.
Take a crony-claimed “stimulus” stash
And an influx of overseas cash
(Use to cover expenses);
Add an ACORN-cooked census
For an edge in the 2012 clash.
Twenty years ago I lost my dad
And the loss to this day makes me sad,
But I’m glad he was there
In my formative years
And can cherish the time that we had.
Oh, the wailing could hardly be shriller
For the fallen abortionist Tiller:
How those pro-choicers burn
With such tender concern
For an infamous serial killer!
There once was a student named Bob
Who stood out from the mortarboard mob;
Now he’s got his diploma,
But he’s caught in a coma
‘Cause he can’t find a well-paying job.
Should our judges be judged by their gender,
Or the justness of verdicts they render?
Should we reckon their race,
Or their ken in a case
As a strict Constitution defender?
Seatbelt on your easy chair,
Life vest in the tub to wear,
Steel-toed bedroom slippers,
Velcro trouser zippers,
“I’m afraid I must take you downtown,”
The policeman announced with a frown.
Such a fate I was dealt
For not wearing a belt —
Which was why my new trousers fell down.
At their names true Republicans scowl,
Snarl, cuss, condemn, spit, and howl:
The new Democrat Specter,
That self-serving defector,
And the graceless ingrate Colin Powell.
“Here I come to save the day!
Everyone will have to pay!
I will pull a switch
That will make me rich
As my stock goes up and away!”
“Science says beware because
Now it’s warmer than it was.
Just listen to me
And you’ll agree:
Science says what I say it does.”
If your moral convictions are strong,
You distinguish between right and wrong,
And believe in one God,
Then you’re certainly odd
And a prison is where you belong.
There once was a geezer named Pops
Who was handy with barbecue mops
And with consummate skill
Would perform at the grill,
Searing t-bones, leg quarters, and chops.
So begins the passion play:
Evil triumphs for a day,
But Friday’s cross
Redeems our loss
And confirms us in the Way.
They’re determined, dirty, deft,
And audacious on the Left:
First Dodd and Frank
Defraud a bank,
Then investigate the theft.
All through spring, summer, fall the ant works,
While the grasshopper shamelessly shirks:
The ant socks it away,
But he still has to pay
For the prodigal grasshopper’s perks.
While we hang on his every last word,
Mesmerized by the mishmash we’ve heard,
What the dummy should say
And our president’s Mortimer Snerd.
Having saddled the wrong pachyderm —
One too contrary, coy, and infirm —
We have four years to delve
To find someone in ’12
To succeed to the donkey’s one term.
Some magicians do mental spoon-bending
Or assistants in mid-air suspending,
But Barack has a trick
That is even more slick:
He can balance a budget by spending!
They have money to disburse
That they’ve taken from our purse:
Those who made the big mess,
Turning more into less,
Will now solve it by making it worse.
From Obama, just what will we get?
In his first year: a mountain of debt,
Mounds of scandal and porn,
Mounds of babies unborn!
And we haven’t seen anything yet!
“This Talk Radio’s going too far
And we soon will be raising the bar:
In the interest of fairness
And cultural awareness,
Every station will air NPR.”
This year’s Superbowl Party was fun.
I enjoyed every kick, pass, and run.
But I had such a blast,
And it went by so fast,
That I can’t quite remember who won.
“Gee, I thought that Obama brought hope,
Not a trip down the slippery slope.
Now I see that his change
Is a kind that is strange,
And I feel like a big, stupid dope!”
Get ready, Blogger Nation,
For the pettifog-oration:
Cue the abstractions
And the cultic reactions!
It’s Obama’s inauguration!
There are pirates all around,
On the sea and on the ground;
In rags or suit,
They all want loot
— Enough to get them drowned.
I sure hope that it isn’t a sign
Of accelerating mental decline
When I know it’s too late
To write 2008
But forget to write 2009.