The Lyricists

Wielding the precisely chosen word like a surgeon wields a scalpel, the Lyricists are noted for their rhetorical brilliance. Their poems are marked by an almost musical character. As such, many are best read aloud to fully savor the mellifluous sounds of the words.

Pete Stark

b. 1931

After being asked by a fellow congressman to “shut up,” Rep. Pete Stark movingly and melodically expressed his feelings in the following. Particularly effective is his masterful use of the repeated word fruitcake.

In the August Chambers of Congress

You think you are big enough to make me,

you little wimp?

Come on, come over here and make me, I dare you . . .

You little fruitcake.

I said you are a fruitcake.

Gordon Ramsay

b. 1966

Chef Gordon Ramsay serves up this amuse-bouche of a poem—a short yet perfectly phrased mouthful.

Homage to Gone with the Wind

As long as I have

a hole in my butt

you will never deep-fry new potatoes again.

Emmitt Smith

b. 1969

In the following “blow-viation,” former football player turned commentator Emmitt Smith tackles an inspirational subject—the importance of perspective—in an unusually rhythmic way.

Blowing It

Don’t worry

about the game you just won

or the team that we just

blew out

—or, um, blown—

blowed out.

Let’s think

about what we need to do

going forward,

and they had, uh—

blown out.

Jesse Jackson

b. 1941

Rev. Jesse Jackson takes us to an open mic poetry slam in the following pithy and punchy verse.

Open Mic Night

See,

Barack’s been talking down

to black people

on this faith-based . . .

I want to cut his nuts off.

Joe Lieberman

b. 1942

This complex and majestic poem by Sen. Joe Lieberman takes parallelism and analogy much, much further than most, comparing our time (now) to many different “thens.” Lieberman posits the questions: When is now? Is now 1942? Or 1930? Is now now?

Comparisons

There are people who have spoken

of this moment in history

as if it were the ’30s,

and there are some parallels, I fear, there.

People say the war in Iraq is comparable

to the Spanish Civil War,

and the war in Iraq,

to the larger war against Islamist terrorism,

comparable to the Spanish Civil War,

to the Second World War,

the late ’30s

and the failure to grasp the growing threat of fascism in Europe

until it was almost too late.

The painful irony of this moment in our history

is that, while in some senses it is

comparable to the 1930s,

it’s also already 1942.

Because Pearl Harbor

in this war,

has already happened.

Rex Ryan

b. 1962

Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “An Exhortation” immediately springs to mind when reading this minor masterpiece by New York Jets coach Rex Ryan. Of course, we must substitute football players for Shelley’s poets, and Shelley’s lizards do not figure in the poem at all. But (metaphorical) jackasses most assuredly do. By the end of the poem, the reader certainly understands what Ryan wants to see tomorrow.

A Fuckin’ Pep Talk

What the hell are we waiting on?

What are we waiting on?

Do you want it or not?

Do you understand there’s a price to pay?

Can we have fun?

You’re damn right.

I DEMAND that we have fun.

Now there’s a difference between having fun and being a jackass.

Our defense was a jackass when we went to Hofstra.

Eating a bunch of fucking cheeseburgers

before we go stretch and all that?

That’s being a jackass . . .

How ’bout our offense?

When are we gonna put it together?

Can we not run the ball down their throats every snap?

Can we not throw it any fucking time we want to throw it?

Let’s make sure we play like the fucking New York Jets

and not some fucking slapdick team.

That’s what I want to see tomorrow,

do we understand what the fuck I want to see tomorrow?

Let’s go to eat a goddamn snack.