Monday

Lieberman Reaches for the Stars

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I wrote this poem in 2007 after I heard Holy Joe say, "Bomb Iran if it doesn't stop."...
Loveless Balm

O! Your jagged lips again are upon my throat. Made rough by their drought
Hiding behind the broker of death.

There upon them is certain madness puckered and prepared to kiss,
To wet their looming course with deceit and blood.

Are these bone-dry lips not pursed upon my willful sightlessness,
Yet succulent in their own lusty course?

Your parched and loveless words lick the heels of a world’s sorrow
And I'll not soothe them with the balm of innocents.

I will not gaze upon their countenance or even touch them
To arouse their hunger or give them any weight.

They’ve not extended any love to me
or the world.

They can only teach the craving for it...
They cannot teach its need.


And I wrote this poem back in 2006 after Joe made this statement- "It's time for Democrats who distrust President Bush to acknowledge that he will be the commander in chief for three more critical years and that in matters of war we undermine the president's credibility at our nation's peril,"
Oh! Joe!

You are a predator.
Must we endure
Your suffering?
Must we attend
Your pandering,
Swill with you
the juice of failure,
March
In off-step reality,
Seize neck
And snap it?

You’ve lost
Your people
Rallied behind
The right
Of most
Inopportune
The blood may stain
All our hands
But you’re bathing
In its effervescence

Swiftly, Joe.
Surely, Joe.
Leaning your
Traded head
To block.
No ones fault
But your own.
Heaping praise
Upon lies
Is not
Where you need
Lead.

You have sold
Your stake,
Forfeited
Your claim!
You're the worst
kind of predator;
Shallow.

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