he was at his office thinking about the current agreement with the parliament, things did not turn out as he had expected he sometimes believed he had fallen in a trap that he would not escape.
He tells me sweet words that I want to hear but his lies spill through his handsome brown eyes. His lips were so sincere, or so it seemed. I should have known better than to put all of my trust in him.
The senator stood, and started to applaud slowly. Jeff was uneasy at first, expecting sarcasm to follow. It did. “You should run for the senate, son, – having people like you around would make even an old fogey like me look good!”
This was our big chance. We were going undercover as big philanthropist under Koi’s business banner. No one would think anything of us. Just three hot guys who own an organic juice chain, out here to promote ourselves by pretending we gave a fuck about whatever charity this is.
Hard, cold, unyielding. Ice in his veins, cool blue and crow bar eyelashes. He’s angry, in his oval office, back straight in that military style that speaks volumes. Ask him, and he’ll tell you that he loves this, that this is his life. Look beneath, and you see the sadness, the anger, the fear. He nods and says no at the same time. Abused child, frightened lamb, the senator.
The senator awoke on a late Wednesday night to find herself sleep walking at 3 in the morning. She’s been depressed for days; she thinks it has something to do with a recent bill that she voted no on. More funding for treatment and programs for people with depression.
The senator looked over his shoulder and then ducked into the cab waiting out front of the hotel. As he slid into the back seat, he was pulled below the window by the stunning redhead who was wearing only a long men’s T-shirt and lacy, white
O Senator, thou has been given this seat of authority. How shall thy use it? On trifle needs, for personal gain? Or perhaps to better the world. Your folly is your legacy. Make haste!
Old people gathering in the Roman Forum because they need to discuss political matters. They are wearing Togae Virae, of the highest status. They shine bright white amidst some of the lowlier people, wearing their less pulchritudinous garb.
The picture that appeared. I believe it was a scene from Spartacus.
“He’s just a senator. The government doesn’t do much now anyways,” she mumbled through bites of food.
I almost slapped her. “Just a senator! He’s my father! That’s more than you’ll ever have!” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. Her face shut down and she started to get up.
working worthless wonders
crushing the bugs from under
the seat neat treat
for the friends and associates
with bashes and cashes
a laughs for staffs
forever wishing there was something to do
a lie can only be true
if you repeat it enough times
sir senator
worthless waste of wonder.
I extended my hand. “Senator Vilmont, what a pleasure,”
“My lady de Wynter,” he said, bowing to take my offered hand and bringing it to his lips. “Truly you’re beauty increases every year as does your resemblance to your dearly departed mother, may the Goddess grant her rest,”
“May the Goddess grant her rest,” I echoed as I inclined my head. “You flatter me, ser,”
He waved me off, the gesture tinged with fondness. “Still, I pity your father; he’ll never find a man who meets your standards,”
“He does try, my lord,”
“As a father must,” he mused.
He walked briskly, as was necessary. A lie in each step. A tale in each turn of his head. Every smile he saw was a nudge in the wrong direction, and he realized that he was looking in a variety of mirrors.
His mind raced as he sweated, heart pounding, mind bewildered, no idea how to react.
Senator Markus looked down at his cotton-plated chest.
Damn.
He should have worn the bullet-proof vest.
I dreamed of having a job in politics. A senator, perhaps. But instead of following the politics of America, I created my own world with my own politics. It was beautiful – crafting a system that held together so perfectly. I was the imaginary ruler.
Senators aren’t corrupted, are they?
Not since the burning of Rome..not since Caesar’s reduction to a tasty salad dressing.
Perhaps they see the peeling paint on the white marble statues and believe that is what progress looks like:
Chipped paint and white stones shaped like great men. When the color fades, do they see the stab wounds, the blood etched into the rock? Do they run their dagger fingers over it and think they are safe?
Senators are not safe from exposing themselves.
Every senator’s speech she read made her more and more exhausted. Her bones sank into her mesh-backed computer chair. She pulled her glasses off her weary eyes and set them carefully on the desk in front of her. Exhaling a sigh, crossing her arms and tilting her head back, Illia had lost all hope that the senators would help the situation.
I glanced across the room to Senator Jackson. Giving him a curt nod, he responded with a hint of a smile. Even after all these years we could barely face each other. Throw in our political party tensions, that didn’t make our rocky acquaintanceship any easier.
Senator Gordon looked at the crowd. How to convince them that they could withstand this new threat, when he knew it not to be true? He raised a hand.
“Good people of Lowanstar, our forces have ready themselves. We will not be defeated.”
“Look!” One of the crowd shouted and pointed towards the sky.
All eyes were raised to the heavens, as the space ships open fire.
My first notion is to write about a state senator smuggling his paraphernalia and hiding his habits but they’ve had enough attention. Shouldn’t we all have our eccentricities and be allowed a transgression or two? Obviously not in the criminal sense but too often have non-criminal non-normative habits been found and publicized, what a politicians fancies is nothing what I care about but perhaps what they stand for might. This is, I guess, why we care.
He wore a suit and that was all he knew. The suit. The limits of his shoulders. The thin white lines in the dark blue. His wife got it dry cleaned. He’d never know how to get it dry cleaned by himself. Crowds watch. Beg for speeches. And there he is, not knowing how to take a suit that he made filthy and clean it up. And we wonder why he can’t save our country.
I stumbled upon this word earlier but I erased everything. I totally forgot what I wrote about. I took US History class last year and got an A. My teacher was legit. I B-ed almost every test. But hey, I did my homework. And I got advanced on my CSTs. Oh yeah, politics suck. But they shape our country and stuff so yeah. Why do I hate politics? I guess it’s because people bring it up so fucking much. Like leave me be, please. And don’t discuss politics with me. Or religion. Ugh.
The senator faced the chamber within with a look of embarrassment. He knew that he had acted inappropriately. Now that his indiscretions had been made public, there was no going back. He knew they would expect his immediate resignation. The only thing left to do was to leave office with as much dignity as was left to him.
The dusty smell of worn leather and sweet hay hung like dust motes drifting through a streak of sunlight. I heard nothing at first, then a creaking of boards and heavy sigh behind the walls of his stall. He stuck his head out from behind, and I realized how alarming his size was once you got close. He was built to work, pull heavy loads, a giant in proportions. He was an animal whose potential power and destructive force made his peaceful nature surprising. His name was burned into a block of wood hung on the door – Senator.
The senator’s head was still ringing from the explosion. It happened every morning on her commute. She wasn’t sure how long the unrest would last. She wasn’t sure how long her convoy would last either. Until then, another day at the office. Another aspirin. Another stack of hopeless paperwork for a hopeless embassy.
Senator. Greeks. Old sand and sandal movies. Corrupt politicians. Incompetence. Give me strength to change the things I can change and wisdom to accept the things I cannot change. Can’t think of a famous senator, living or dead..
It happens sometimes, fantasy permeating reality. The senator leaned over the balcony, glass in hand, to catch a glimpse of his daughter, the princess, twirling in and out of the arms of a handsome young man. And instead of storming down to snatch her away, as he had with so many others, the senator just smiled to himself and went back inside. Because he approved of the gentleman holding his daughter, and he knew about the ring in his pocket.
The Senator stood atop the pulpit shouting out his memorized lies and false promises with false zeal. A vote for me is the vote for righteousness. I promise to never betray the voter’s trust. I feel exactly the same way you do and it’s time for a change. Vote – vote – vote. Pick me, let me be the popular kid this time. I have more money/insight than my opponent.
I’m sorry that I lied to you. I’m sorry for my moment of weakness. I’m sorry you believed me you fools. I’m sorry I broke your rose tinted glasses. I’m actually a bleeding heart, especially when you put a bullet through my chest.
The senator was bull-headed, and horned similarly to boot, and when he marched onto the podium to denounce the new healthcare plan yet again, the town hall audience was ready to embrace him.
“But a full government shutdown over the president’s plan?” one journalist dared to ask. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
“What can I say?” the senator replied with a slimy smirk. “I’m an extremist. There should be more people like me.”
Needless to say, the social networking sites had a field day lambasting him.
senator, a position of power, i could change humanity. These were all thoughts that George Lucas thought when he started campaigning, but soon after he had won he would figure out that the best thing he would do is catch a 14 year old troublemaker.Little did he know that this huligan would change his life.
The guy who says he’s got my back when it comes to decisions bigger than i’m allowed to make. A liar, likely. I’ve never much cared, but I know neither does he so long as he get’s paid. Same as me, I don’t care much what happens to those I affect at my job, so long as i’m paid.
What else is there about a senator? Some one I’ll never be, never been much for politics. That’s the people person’s game. Let him make all the big decisions.
He sat on the sun warmed steps staring at the flow of red and knew he was witnessing the end of an era. The senator feared what so many of his peers refused to consider; without Caesar, Rome would not stand long.
She/He ,the elected member of a senate ,
is working to satisfy her /his
hunger for power
money and
fame
selfishly;
oblivious
that she/he was once
a mediocre
a peasant
who craved for
people’s chain of reactions
and reforms..
He looked down on his subjects,
The king,
And hated his democracy.
For all that it stood for,
For all the power it possessed,
For all the power it robbed away from him.
He didn’t understand he was a dithering fool,
And had always been the one having his strings pulled,
This just made it official.
I didn’t really know what to expect. I was standing at the podium, as the crowd rioted around me, chanting whatever horrible insults they could come up with and spray paint all over the Capitol building. Trembling, I tried to address the screaming crowds, “Why must you do this? This is not necessary!” but my cries were muffled by the sound of an errant gunshot to my left. I looked my bodyguard in his cold dead eye as I stumbled over, falling on the floor, watching the puddle of blood grow as I shrank.
he was at his office thinking about the current agreement with the parliament, things did not turn out as he had expected he sometimes believed he had fallen in a trap that he would not escape.
He tells me sweet words that I want to hear but his lies spill through his handsome brown eyes. His lips were so sincere, or so it seemed. I should have known better than to put all of my trust in him.
The senator stood, and started to applaud slowly. Jeff was uneasy at first, expecting sarcasm to follow. It did. “You should run for the senate, son, – having people like you around would make even an old fogey like me look good!”
This was our big chance. We were going undercover as big philanthropist under Koi’s business banner. No one would think anything of us. Just three hot guys who own an organic juice chain, out here to promote ourselves by pretending we gave a fuck about whatever charity this is.
Hard, cold, unyielding. Ice in his veins, cool blue and crow bar eyelashes. He’s angry, in his oval office, back straight in that military style that speaks volumes. Ask him, and he’ll tell you that he loves this, that this is his life. Look beneath, and you see the sadness, the anger, the fear. He nods and says no at the same time. Abused child, frightened lamb, the senator.
The senator awoke on a late Wednesday night to find herself sleep walking at 3 in the morning. She’s been depressed for days; she thinks it has something to do with a recent bill that she voted no on. More funding for treatment and programs for people with depression.
The senator looked over his shoulder and then ducked into the cab waiting out front of the hotel. As he slid into the back seat, he was pulled below the window by the stunning redhead who was wearing only a long men’s T-shirt and lacy, white
O Senator, thou has been given this seat of authority. How shall thy use it? On trifle needs, for personal gain? Or perhaps to better the world. Your folly is your legacy. Make haste!
Old people gathering in the Roman Forum because they need to discuss political matters. They are wearing Togae Virae, of the highest status. They shine bright white amidst some of the lowlier people, wearing their less pulchritudinous garb.
The picture that appeared. I believe it was a scene from Spartacus.
“He’s just a senator. The government doesn’t do much now anyways,” she mumbled through bites of food.
I almost slapped her. “Just a senator! He’s my father! That’s more than you’ll ever have!” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. Her face shut down and she started to get up.
working worthless wonders
crushing the bugs from under
the seat neat treat
for the friends and associates
with bashes and cashes
a laughs for staffs
forever wishing there was something to do
a lie can only be true
if you repeat it enough times
sir senator
worthless waste of wonder.
It made me think about Senator John F. Kennedy. Then he became the President of the United States of America. He considered the American royal family.
I extended my hand. “Senator Vilmont, what a pleasure,”
“My lady de Wynter,” he said, bowing to take my offered hand and bringing it to his lips. “Truly you’re beauty increases every year as does your resemblance to your dearly departed mother, may the Goddess grant her rest,”
“May the Goddess grant her rest,” I echoed as I inclined my head. “You flatter me, ser,”
He waved me off, the gesture tinged with fondness. “Still, I pity your father; he’ll never find a man who meets your standards,”
“He does try, my lord,”
“As a father must,” he mused.
He walked briskly, as was necessary. A lie in each step. A tale in each turn of his head. Every smile he saw was a nudge in the wrong direction, and he realized that he was looking in a variety of mirrors.
His mind raced as he sweated, heart pounding, mind bewildered, no idea how to react.
Senator Markus looked down at his cotton-plated chest.
Damn.
He should have worn the bullet-proof vest.
I dreamed of having a job in politics. A senator, perhaps. But instead of following the politics of America, I created my own world with my own politics. It was beautiful – crafting a system that held together so perfectly. I was the imaginary ruler.
Senators aren’t corrupted, are they?
Not since the burning of Rome..not since Caesar’s reduction to a tasty salad dressing.
Perhaps they see the peeling paint on the white marble statues and believe that is what progress looks like:
Chipped paint and white stones shaped like great men. When the color fades, do they see the stab wounds, the blood etched into the rock? Do they run their dagger fingers over it and think they are safe?
Senators are not safe from exposing themselves.
Leaning inward
Like masts of yachts
Forces seen, felt
Perhaps not understood
As if the essence of you
Is my keel
I always yearned
To become a thing
Well honed, intrinsic
A hammer’s handle
Yawl, anvil
Violins in velvet
Ivory keys
Violence, like all weather
Circles and sleeps
In fitful dreams
Somewhere we played as children
We merge
In slow wingbeat
Abreast, your face
Next to mine
Over wet fields
Untamed wood
Leaning hard
With the wind
Every senator’s speech she read made her more and more exhausted. Her bones sank into her mesh-backed computer chair. She pulled her glasses off her weary eyes and set them carefully on the desk in front of her. Exhaling a sigh, crossing her arms and tilting her head back, Illia had lost all hope that the senators would help the situation.
I glanced across the room to Senator Jackson. Giving him a curt nod, he responded with a hint of a smile. Even after all these years we could barely face each other. Throw in our political party tensions, that didn’t make our rocky acquaintanceship any easier.
Senator Gordon looked at the crowd. How to convince them that they could withstand this new threat, when he knew it not to be true? He raised a hand.
“Good people of Lowanstar, our forces have ready themselves. We will not be defeated.”
“Look!” One of the crowd shouted and pointed towards the sky.
All eyes were raised to the heavens, as the space ships open fire.
My first notion is to write about a state senator smuggling his paraphernalia and hiding his habits but they’ve had enough attention. Shouldn’t we all have our eccentricities and be allowed a transgression or two? Obviously not in the criminal sense but too often have non-criminal non-normative habits been found and publicized, what a politicians fancies is nothing what I care about but perhaps what they stand for might. This is, I guess, why we care.
He wore a suit and that was all he knew. The suit. The limits of his shoulders. The thin white lines in the dark blue. His wife got it dry cleaned. He’d never know how to get it dry cleaned by himself. Crowds watch. Beg for speeches. And there he is, not knowing how to take a suit that he made filthy and clean it up. And we wonder why he can’t save our country.
empty words
promises
pockets
the world
they’ll give it to you
if you
trust
but how can they all
have the world to give?
I stumbled upon this word earlier but I erased everything. I totally forgot what I wrote about. I took US History class last year and got an A. My teacher was legit. I B-ed almost every test. But hey, I did my homework. And I got advanced on my CSTs. Oh yeah, politics suck. But they shape our country and stuff so yeah. Why do I hate politics? I guess it’s because people bring it up so fucking much. Like leave me be, please. And don’t discuss politics with me. Or religion. Ugh.
The senator faced the chamber within with a look of embarrassment. He knew that he had acted inappropriately. Now that his indiscretions had been made public, there was no going back. He knew they would expect his immediate resignation. The only thing left to do was to leave office with as much dignity as was left to him.
The dusty smell of worn leather and sweet hay hung like dust motes drifting through a streak of sunlight. I heard nothing at first, then a creaking of boards and heavy sigh behind the walls of his stall. He stuck his head out from behind, and I realized how alarming his size was once you got close. He was built to work, pull heavy loads, a giant in proportions. He was an animal whose potential power and destructive force made his peaceful nature surprising. His name was burned into a block of wood hung on the door – Senator.
The senator’s head was still ringing from the explosion. It happened every morning on her commute. She wasn’t sure how long the unrest would last. She wasn’t sure how long her convoy would last either. Until then, another day at the office. Another aspirin. Another stack of hopeless paperwork for a hopeless embassy.
He was filled with buzzing. The buzzing of words in mouths, pens on paper, gears in cameras and microphone static.
he was a rigid man of square interests who places everything in boxes, even himself.
Senator. Greeks. Old sand and sandal movies. Corrupt politicians. Incompetence. Give me strength to change the things I can change and wisdom to accept the things I cannot change. Can’t think of a famous senator, living or dead..
It happens sometimes, fantasy permeating reality. The senator leaned over the balcony, glass in hand, to catch a glimpse of his daughter, the princess, twirling in and out of the arms of a handsome young man. And instead of storming down to snatch her away, as he had with so many others, the senator just smiled to himself and went back inside. Because he approved of the gentleman holding his daughter, and he knew about the ring in his pocket.
The Senator stood atop the pulpit shouting out his memorized lies and false promises with false zeal. A vote for me is the vote for righteousness. I promise to never betray the voter’s trust. I feel exactly the same way you do and it’s time for a change. Vote – vote – vote. Pick me, let me be the popular kid this time. I have more money/insight than my opponent.
I’m sorry that I lied to you. I’m sorry for my moment of weakness. I’m sorry you believed me you fools. I’m sorry I broke your rose tinted glasses. I’m actually a bleeding heart, especially when you put a bullet through my chest.
The senator was bull-headed, and horned similarly to boot, and when he marched onto the podium to denounce the new healthcare plan yet again, the town hall audience was ready to embrace him.
“But a full government shutdown over the president’s plan?” one journalist dared to ask. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
“What can I say?” the senator replied with a slimy smirk. “I’m an extremist. There should be more people like me.”
Needless to say, the social networking sites had a field day lambasting him.
senator, a position of power, i could change humanity. These were all thoughts that George Lucas thought when he started campaigning, but soon after he had won he would figure out that the best thing he would do is catch a 14 year old troublemaker.Little did he know that this huligan would change his life.
The guy who says he’s got my back when it comes to decisions bigger than i’m allowed to make. A liar, likely. I’ve never much cared, but I know neither does he so long as he get’s paid. Same as me, I don’t care much what happens to those I affect at my job, so long as i’m paid.
What else is there about a senator? Some one I’ll never be, never been much for politics. That’s the people person’s game. Let him make all the big decisions.
He sat on the sun warmed steps staring at the flow of red and knew he was witnessing the end of an era. The senator feared what so many of his peers refused to consider; without Caesar, Rome would not stand long.
She/He ,the elected member of a senate ,
is working to satisfy her /his
hunger for power
money and
fame
selfishly;
oblivious
that she/he was once
a mediocre
a peasant
who craved for
people’s chain of reactions
and reforms..
He looked down on his subjects,
The king,
And hated his democracy.
For all that it stood for,
For all the power it possessed,
For all the power it robbed away from him.
He didn’t understand he was a dithering fool,
And had always been the one having his strings pulled,
This just made it official.
I didn’t really know what to expect. I was standing at the podium, as the crowd rioted around me, chanting whatever horrible insults they could come up with and spray paint all over the Capitol building. Trembling, I tried to address the screaming crowds, “Why must you do this? This is not necessary!” but my cries were muffled by the sound of an errant gunshot to my left. I looked my bodyguard in his cold dead eye as I stumbled over, falling on the floor, watching the puddle of blood grow as I shrank.