Thought Bubbles

Trump was an illusion

His job was to weed you out

And he did it well


That's why, in 2015

His friends, the Clintons,

Gave him the call


And maybe


Thought he was a real boy,

But does that even matter?

You tied yourself to a stone

Whose job

Was to jump off a bridge

Like it's friends and into cold, deep water


I see your thought bubbles

From where I am

Cause I'm ahead of my time

They'll have me walking a plank

Not for real, but in a sense

For not towing either line

Probably at some point


But yes, your thought bubbles

Rising like prayers

Rising to the surface

You're screaming from below

But the bubbles are empty

Did you have any of your own thoughts

...even before they were deleted?



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allets's picture

Oh Oh

The PostPoem tradition of THE RANT lives! - Great observing/warning/calling out. Double bravo!





lyrycsyntyme's picture

It's funny, but I didn't

Thank you.


It's funny, but I didn't realize I was in need of penning a rant-poem last night until the moment I started writing. But I'm just disappointed in all the wasted anger and energy people across spectrums have burned up this year, as things much deeper, and frankly quite more sinister, carries on virtually unchallenged. We all have reason to unite to stop it, but instead irrational, sectarian anger and spats of violence rule the day. Tragic are we.

allets's picture

Anger Revisited

I would like to reduce the rage to just bad sportsmanship, but there were bombs and guns, not just opposition banners. Anyone thinking of danger to civilians - stay home requested. People have to go to work. May the mob stay home! It is a season of celebrations.