Tuesday, 8 October 2019

poem - psychology in politics


(For George W Bush the nth, and their ilk)


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

Tags: poems, psychology, projection, politics

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