Poetry Corner: What about your own push?


I popped the barrel
…to open the pistol
…to topple him from the top
I own up
I trooped to the top
…by the power wielded from a weapon
I concede
I played to the gallery
To satisfy the agitation
…of the majority
I stand accused
But where were you when he usurped the will of the people?
Where were you when he surged to the top at the count of three?
Where were you?

Are you pissed off
…because I pushed for a putsch
To push him off the top
To please the masses?
I can see you panting from panic
I can see you moisten a towel for a dousing
…just in case

What about your own push?
You pushed for a retarding third towards a retirement
After trying in the first and strutting about in the second
You said there was no sage to man the state after your second
You were the only sane the Tarra
The only Messiah
So the code needed to be amended
To ward off any wannabe from the throne
You were the only devil so known
So down the angel not known
You competed unopposed as a whitewashed wonderboy
You won a third with a thud
Was that push…not a putsch?
Oh! That push
Was that push not an open call for a putsch?

What about your own push?
You climbed to the top
Via a family tree
In tow of a family dynasty begotten by a Daddyema
…of blessed memory
You held a whole populated land as a landed property
In trust for a family dynasty
You pushed against any
Pushing to push out the dynasty
You crushed all dissenting dissident forces and voices
Reaching out to perch at the top
Was that crush
Oh! That crush
Was that not a push for a putsch?

What about your own push?
You cooked the numbers to rise to the top
The outcome was a conclusion foregone
Before the contest was given a born
You chose a referee from your fold
…an old folk
A referee to pander to a paymaster
To crown you the way you pleased
A judge in your own courtyard
A referee on your own playground
An umpire in your own political empire
Did you cook to push for a putsch or not?
What if that was also a putsch?


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