The Legacy of Trump: A Poetic Reflection



Which Side Are You On?” is a famous protest song written in 1931 by Florence Reece. Pete Seeger later popularized it during the labor movement of the 1950th and 1960th. It became an anthem for social justice. Much has changed in the political world since then. I hope you enjoy listening to it while reading this blog post.


The name of my blog includes politics. But, I haven’t often touched on the political side in my posts. There were only a couple of interviews in Norwegian, without subtitles. This time, though, I’ve written a poem about politics.

I’ve always been fascinated by how divided we are in our views on what makes a good society. When we go to the polls and vote, do we focus only on our own needs? Or do we take a broader perspective? We should consider how our choices will affect us and future generations.

Native American tribes deeply value the concept of seven generations planning. This belief states that today’s decisions should be carefully evaluated based on their impact over the next seven generations. This timeframe is roughly 140 to 175 years into the future.

This perspective emphasizes long-term thinking and responsibility. It ensures that actions taken promote sustainability. It also maintains balance and ensures well-being for those who come after us. It reminds us of the interconnectedness of all life. It highlights the importance of acting as stewards of the earth and its resources.

This principle feels especially relevant today. My good friend, Lars Flikkeid, recently recommended the podcast “State of the Union”—an analytical look at what’s happening in U.S. politics. It’s definitely worth a listen.

Inspired by it, I decided to finish a poem I started back when Trump was elected president in November 2024. His inauguration is approaching on January 20th. This feels like the perfect time to share this blog post. It features my poem and the thought-provoking podcast that sparked it.



The Legacy of Trump: A Poetic Reflection

On a foggy November day

Many were foreseeing

An unseen shadow on display

Those were the ones singing the blues

Knowing they soon had to face the pain of a political bruise

That November day

Mr. Trump was the big talk

He had become the chosen man

His name echoed through every newswalk

“Oh, no!”—it rang

Between the lines

Of people’s words and wary signs

He is the loose cannon on deck

Soon building walls as high as Stonehenge

Hatching plans—another reckless egg

The Triumph of Trump

Was regarded as the death of dignity—

Maybe even humanity

While others who voted him to power

Saw him as the savior,

The glorious man

Stopping all worldly failure

Either way

There’s no turning back

He is once again a worldwide entertainer,

Soon residing in the White House,

Wearing the presidential robe—

America’s new political pope

With bleached hair on the throne

Acting as a public clown

And time will show

What notes will be blown

Into the worldwide zone—

How things will shift

What direction the political river will flow

How future generations

Will judge Trump’s victorious hurricane

And the storms it stirred

Leaving echoes that remain



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