In fact, my mom always told me because I was the daughter of an Army officer born overseas in Paris, France, that under the Constitution she believed that I could never run for president.
quote by Karen Hughes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arabs Please Pay Heed Feb 24th,2011
The Arabs have a choice: accept the next dictator or change,
Usually a general from the army, who then becomes deranged,
No matter who he/she is, they should be there no more than four years,
Because after that they go power mad or so it appears.
Someone has to sit down and write a constitution for all,
Go to Switzerland, read their’s because they are on the ball,
You have to elect a president by name – not party or rank,
And not someone standing on top of a big orange army tank.
Then put the constitution to the people for a yes or no,
Your first referendum with luck and several more to go,
Getting rid of a dictator is one but starting up is two,
You follow my instructions though everything is new.
FEB 24TH,2011
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Next Dictator Maybe Enroute Feb 25th,2011
The next dictator is waiting and ready to get up to bat,
In his fancy army general uniform with gold brimmed hat,
Of course he has his group of friends to help him along the way,
And he wants to stay president for life and cool down this fray.
But he should only stay for no more than four years at the most,
This should be written down in a constitution and engrossed,
Better still, ten guys go to Switzerland and see what they got,
Write their constitution down before your the place is tied in a knot.
A new president elected every four years no matter what,
To ensure the country is not taken over by some strange nut,
There are too many examples of power gone completely mad,
A long list of defiant dictators that is more than sad.
FEB 25TH,2011
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paris, Please Accept Me, As A Human Refugee
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
the patience, eating the happiness
the pain, eating the patience
and the pain, eating the pain
I AM SICK, paris
treat me, sister
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
exile, on my papers
restrained, ..
in my lines
so free me, paris
treat me, paris
I BELONG TO YOU, ..
sister
my home, the colours of MONET
my room, is a water flower
my air..
is the scent of FRANCE
and my refuge..
is a place by RENOIR shrine
so take me paris..
as your..
renoirian..
REFUGEE.
poem by Ahmed Khaled
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I am not a federal employee. I am a constitutional officer. My job is the Constitution of the United States, I am not a government employee. I am in the Constitution.
French Teacher
Being in Paris for over
Thirty years, he taught
French to younsters
At sixty five, reminscing
The Eiffel tower, the squares
Of Paris, the promenades
The painters, especially
The beuties, with a smack
Of his old lips, mentioning
Them quite often,
But not mentioning
The life of love he led,
He lived ina old fort like house
Looking after his
Wife and shy daughter,
With thought of france
Where he lived so long,
For company of his oldage.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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Daughter
The Daughter.
Daughter, of the police officer who wore black riding boots,
was shining them, a call came he had been killed in traffic
accident. She put polish and brush into a cupboard no longer
a slave of a father who used boots as mirrors in the morning
when shaving, and if he couldn´t see clearly beat her with
a leather strap. Father in his coffin, she polished his medals
he looked grand in death. But for the daughter, of the officer,
each medal reminded her of the leather lash.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I really think the Patriot Act violates our Constitution. It was, it is, an illegal act. The Congress, the Senate and the president cannot change the Constitution.
quote by Peter Camejo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I went off to the army when I was 17 years old, I believed in America and the rights of freedom. But today I believe my government is lying to the American people and that my president, George Bush, is a criminal.
quote by Jack Herer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I didn't say 'former president,' I said 'president,' and I have the constitutional rights according to the constitution, including immunity from prosecution.
quote by Saddam Hussein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Advice For Arab Revolutionaries Feb 22nd 2011
I got advice for all those Arab countries in revolutions,
Write a constitution now as one of your few solutions,
Get an okay from the people and make it only for them,
Next president for only four years or it maybe more mayhem.
A set-date election every four years for different girls/guys,
Check how much money is left and no need for a surprise,
Elect the president by name – not someone in his party,
Everyone over eighteen to vote regardless of poverty.
All countries should have binding referendums like the Swiss,
Separation of church, mosque and state should not be hit and miss,
A despot diehard ruler should not control the army,
And try to work things out all these national things in harmony.
Feb 22nd,2011
poem by James Bredin
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Paris I adorent
France, her mystery
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds
The quiteness of La Seine
The elaborateness of Le Tour Eiffel
Paris I adorent
As it is you I explore
We have developed rapport
En Paris ces't ma couer
En Paris ces't ma maison
One day we will meet again
One day we will meet again
Peter LeBuhn
poem by Peter LeBuhn
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I've been to Paris France and I've been to Paris Paramount. Paris Paramount is better.
quote by Ernst Lubitsch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even President Bush has cited the need to outlaw the practice of corporations making loans to their officers. Strangely enough, when the President was a corporate officer, he took out several loans from the company.
quote by Bennie Thompson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Looked At That Fool And Smiled
There is nothing like being in love.
Especially with someone who has not a clue,
As to who you are.
And shows as much respect...
As a passing stranger.
I was once told many years ago,
I could be a bank president...
If I put my mind to it.
I agreed!
But my mind wasn't set,
On the credits and debts that others kept.
I needed and wanted to 'own' my destiny.
And 'if' I wanted someone to monitor my resources...
I would select a bank.
And I would pay that bank president,
To oversee...
My property.
But happy am I,
To have those days pass me by.
And I am blessed to continue to fly.
With my ultimate ambition,
YET to be realized.
Oh...
But it my sights,
It is becoming clarified.
And 'if' you happen to be reading this...
From wherever in the world,
You may have my words interpreted.
Wherever in the 'world' you may sit.
You may 'already' have a hint of it!
The thing I own I am most proudest of...
Is a bus pass.
That's right!
The proudest thing I am 'going' to do?
Is to have my words read...
From 'wherever' you locate them,
To go directly into your head.
Enough said!
I am not bragging about that.
It will become fact.
And I knew that as a child!
I kicked other things around for a while.
Hey...
Life is a learning process.
Is it not?
That is why when I was told,
Many years ago...
I could be a bank president,
I looked at that fool and smiled.
I did not have to earn a Master's in Business.
I was 'born' a Master OF Business.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just One More Cigarette...
It is evening they take him out of his cell and into
the walled court yard. An officer offers him a fag
he accepts, and smokes it slowly inhaling deeply.
The officer says, “don’t worry it will soon be over. “
Then they tie his hands behind his back, blindfold
him and place him against a pockmarked wall.
The officer asks if the prisoner, has a last word,
a message to the world or his family. The damned
shakes his head, a long silence, and a volley of fire.
Today, after being told by my doctor I’m an idiot,
I have stopped smoking.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Grafted Into the Army
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
I told them the child was too young, alas!
At the captains forequarters, they said he would pass,
they'd train him up well in the Infantry class,
so they grafted him into the Army.
Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell way down in Alabammy;
I though they would spare a lone widder's heir,
but they grafted him into the Army.
Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
they have grafted him into the Army;
it seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
but they grafted him into the Army.
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
but Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair
when they grafted him into the Army.
Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
they have grafted him into the Army;
a picket beside the contented field,
they have grafted him into the Army.
He looks kinder sickish -- begins to cry,
a big volunteer standing right in his eye!
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
now they've grafted him into the Army.
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Donald Trump is the most dangerous president in the modern history of our country and he must be defeated. Tragically, we have a
president today who is a pathological liar and who is running a corrupt administration. He clearly does not understand the Constitution of the United States and thinks that he is a president who is above the law. In my view, he is a racist, a sexist, a homophobe, a xenophobe and a religious bigot, and he must be defeated, and I will do everything in my power to make that happen.
quote by Bernie Sanders
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Army, O, My Army!
My Army, O, my army! The time I dreamed of comes!
I want to see your colours; I want to hear your drums!
I heard them in my boyhood when all men’s hearts seemed cold;
I heard them as a Young Man—and I am growing old!
My army, O, my army! The signs are manifold!
My army, O, my army! My army and my Queen!
I used to sing your battle-songs when I was seventeen!
They came to me from ages, they came from far and near;
They came to me from Paris, they came to me from Here!—
They came when I was marching with the Army of the Rear.
My Queen’s dark eyes were flashing (oh, she was younger then!);
My Queen’s Red Cap was redder than the reddest blood of men!
My Queen marched like an Amazon, with anger manifest—
Her dark hair darkly matted from a knifegash in her breast
(For blood will flow where milk will not—her sisters knew the rest).
My legions ne’er were listed, they had no need to be;
My army ne’er was trained in arms—’twas trained in misery!
It took long years to mould it, but war could never drown
The shuffling of my army’s feet in the hunger-haunted town—
A little child was murdered, and so Tyranny went down.
My army kept no order, my army kept no time;
My army dug no trenches, yet died in dust and slime;
Its troops were fiercely ignorant, as to the manner born;
Its clothes were rags and tatters, or patches worn and torn—
Ah, me! It wore a uniform that I have often worn!
The faces of my army were ghastly as the dead;
My army’s cause was Hunger, my army’s cry was “Bread!”
It called on God and Mary and Christ of Nazareth;
It cried to kings and courtesans that fainted at its breath—
Its women beat their poor, flat breasts where babes had starved to death.
My army! My army—I hear the sound of drums
Above the roar of battles—and, lo! my army comes!
Nor creed of man may stay it—nor war, nor nation’s law—
The pikes go through the firing-lines as pitchforks go through straw—
Like pitchforks through the litter, while empires stand in awe.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daughter of Death
I was born
Born to the blood of angels
Born through the veil of a storm
Born without love inside of me
Born with a need to perform
Born out of vengence
Born out of scorn
Born out of hatred
out of love torn
Born with a mission
Born with a drive
Born with a need
with a need to sruvive.
Now it's time to show you what i'm really about
no more pretentions;
No more frothing at the mouth
there's no use of hiding
all my sins deep inside
I'll wear them on my shoulder like a badge of pride
Cuz i'm the daughter of death
from my very first breath
i'm the daughter of death
blood red as macbeth
living a filthy mess
i'm a daughter of death
just a daughter of death
I was
Raised from buring ashes
Raised with tragic crime
Raised from cries of chaos
Raised on borrowed time
Raised by the darkness
Rasied by the night
Raised by the claws of fright
Raised to be hated
Riased to be loved
Riased to be doomed
By the powers above
poem by Brittany Cook
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There is no reason for anyone in this country, anyone except a police officer or a military person, to buy, to own, to have, to use a handgun... and the only way to do that is to change the Constitution.
quote by Michael Gartner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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