Little-Acorn
Well-Known Member
Received in email from a friend.
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Obama at the Bat (a poem)*
by Michael Gabor
The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Leftist Dems that day:
The health care plan was muddled, with but one press conference more to play.
And then when the job approval numbers died, and personal popularity did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the progressives in the game.
A straggling few quit or changed parties in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Obama could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Obama at the bat.
Then from 310 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It was amplified by CNN, NBC, and Daily Kos so flat,
For Obama, mighty Obama, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Obama's manner as he repeated he'd won the race;
There was pride in Obama's bearing and a smile on Obama's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Obama at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he smeared his opponents with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded even as the Nation lost its shirt.
Then while a cringing reporter lobbed a question from his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Obama's eye, a sneer curled Obama's lip.
For when the stimulus bill came hurtling through the air,
Obama merely signed it without reading a word in there.
Right by the sturdy President the bill unexamined sped-
"That's just my style," said Obama. "Strike one," the people said.
With a smile of Christian charity great Obama's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the congress, and the cap and trade bill flew;
And Obama heartily supported it, and the people said, "Strike two."
"Socialism" cried the alarmed conservatives, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Obama and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Obama might get his way again.
The sneer is gone from Obama's lip, he rises to his station;
About to deliver his Health Care justification to a waiting nation.
And now the teleprompter is on, and now he unleashes his attack,
And now the lofty illusions are shattered by the ego of Barack.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in the Leftists - mighty Obama has struck out.
*With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer
------------------------------------------------
Obama at the Bat (a poem)*
by Michael Gabor
The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Leftist Dems that day:
The health care plan was muddled, with but one press conference more to play.
And then when the job approval numbers died, and personal popularity did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the progressives in the game.
A straggling few quit or changed parties in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Obama could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Obama at the bat.
Then from 310 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It was amplified by CNN, NBC, and Daily Kos so flat,
For Obama, mighty Obama, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Obama's manner as he repeated he'd won the race;
There was pride in Obama's bearing and a smile on Obama's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Obama at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he smeared his opponents with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded even as the Nation lost its shirt.
Then while a cringing reporter lobbed a question from his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Obama's eye, a sneer curled Obama's lip.
For when the stimulus bill came hurtling through the air,
Obama merely signed it without reading a word in there.
Right by the sturdy President the bill unexamined sped-
"That's just my style," said Obama. "Strike one," the people said.
With a smile of Christian charity great Obama's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the congress, and the cap and trade bill flew;
And Obama heartily supported it, and the people said, "Strike two."
"Socialism" cried the alarmed conservatives, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Obama and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Obama might get his way again.
The sneer is gone from Obama's lip, he rises to his station;
About to deliver his Health Care justification to a waiting nation.
And now the teleprompter is on, and now he unleashes his attack,
And now the lofty illusions are shattered by the ego of Barack.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in the Leftists - mighty Obama has struck out.
*With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer
![laughing-smiley-face[1].gif](https://www.houseofpolitics.com/data/attachments/7/7640-e1e9d3e1b5abfa61844f15e0c5dadeb6.jpg?hash=4enT4bWr-m "laughing-smiley-face[1].gif")
