When pending polls poke
homestead holes.
Split ticket
A trolaan whit on
partisan split
Mere sense has flown. My nerves are numb.
My wits, they need repairs.
Mistaken missives, how they come
Mailed from someone downstairs.
“Enough!” I cry to no avail,
Eyes swollen at the sight.
Each propaganda, past the pale,
Enlarges spousal slight.
No privacy, respect, or calm –
Now, look. How does he prate?
Not ceasing, he clicks off each bomb,
Named for his candidate.
Oh, bring November. End the pain.
Onlookers may agree.
Offensive notes my vote won’t rein.
Our standards don’t agree.
c2016 by Linda Ann Nickerson
NOTE: Just this once, I didn’t use all the prompt keywords within the text of the actual trolaan poem. Let’s just say desperate times call for such a wild departure from traditional expectations. In this season (at least in the United States), citizens seem to be growing ever more insecure about the upcoming election. We may feel vulnerable, as we ponder the often unreliable words of those vying for top positions, especially in such a dangerous era of human history. With this situation in mind, I opted to pen this poem on one way this season is proving particularly divisive.
This time around, I might have to say one of my favorite holidays (at least, this year) will be the day after Election Day. I can pretty much guarantee I won’t be thrilled with the entire outcome, but getting past the contentious campaign cycle cannot be a bad thing.
This poem was posted
in response to these prompts:
31 Days of
Poetry and Writing: Write about your
most recent trivial loss. (22)
Daily
Post: “argument” (8)
OctPoWriMo:
“dangerous” – with “desperate,” “insecure,” “vulnerable,” “wild,” and “unreliable”
– TROLAAN POEM (22)
Write
31 Days Challenge: What is your favorite holiday, and what do you love
about it? (22)
#OctPoWriMo
Image/s:
Adapted from public domain artwork.
31 Days logo – created by this user,
31 Days logo – created by this user,
including public domain artwork.
