My Political Bid Poem by Hannington Mumo

My political bid here begins
Without a coin and with want of dime,
And not a listening of name;
A wave against the wind of time
As I soar the heights of fame
Against the whims of conceited titans.

And the Lord God the bearer of both,
I trust those two He shall supply as said in His troth;
His arm that all controls
Shall harness for me both dreams and goals.

Thus on this historical date:
Twenty-third of this blessed February,
(Last year of the same a lady's heart had stolen my state)
The year counted two thousand and eleventh
Since the ascension of that savior and friend,
On the parliamentary bid my mind is set with a breath.


I beseech the Good Lord to lead my trudge,
His eye to define my paths
And His love to inform my thoughts;
To galvanize me against him who loathes
And shield me from the hearts coached to hate.

And the brown man who wears a red tie
And loves his dark suit,
Shall before God have no cause better than mine;
Him I shall wallop like a mortared fruit,
His candidacy shall be a sign
Of the nemesis of leaves that oppose the root.

And the other man who loves to fly,
That will be the day his star shall die;
And that of mine shall glitter brighter
And among the aliens of the Lord inspire a jitter,
For it shall be a moment of maddening merry
As the believers of hope hold their feast.

God guard my parliamentary bid,
Let it germinate my prophesied seed;
The proclamation of celestial oracles;
The end of the shackles and manacles
That for far too long have fettered your elect.