The title is still curious, but it has its reason for being. It is the qualitative procedure, the one that allows to decipher what cannot be understood and for this we habitually resort to comparison and metaphor, especially effective tools in education.
In the religious concept it would be the parables and in the literary world the stories with a moral.
The world of politics is therefore not far from this reality and this is what this article proposes to clarify. The truth is that politicians have little poetry and a lot of prosaics, which is going to tell us.
Elections are the moments in which the poetic world appears, especially in the democratic world. At that time the politicians are the lovers of their homelands and patriots, because time demands it, those who with beautiful oratory give rise to beautiful puns, play with the eternal fires of hope and resort to all kinds of lights that They know each other and sometimes even surpass them.
However, the desperate citizens, far from writing praises, only want the image of stamped paper that will solve their problems and that is the rhyme that flourishes at that moment and the different political verses (people and ideologies) and citizens.
In these cases, the rhyme followed by citizens is predictable. On the one hand, it is from the believers and followers that it is consonant because it is complete, predetermined and predictable, with the mantras dictated by its poets (politicians on duty).
On the other hand, there is that of the thinking citizen who would coincide with that assonance rhyme where sonority predominates, first of all, pomp, although the rhythm is predictable. This rhyme of unpredictable results before a citizen with his blank page and although the metric remains regular, nothing can be expected from political mediocrity, good sonnets are longed for in the face of free verse, which is what is offered.
Poetry without rhyme, rhythm, or a logical pattern that plays with the emotional world of the voter.
The truth is that it is not the parties, nor their leaders who, offering profiles of bonhomie and paternalism and emphasizing smiles, cover their interests and those of their formations, offering balms of beautiful words, remembering the past, good or bad, depending on the occasion and moment.
They speak of blank and even free verses and far from it they are modifications, crude and anchored in the past. The conversion from the mediocrity of what in its time was regulated and conformed and they want to offer it to us as the new trova.
Perhaps the closest thing was that sentence that one day a singer-songwriter like Sabina affirmed: “Poetry flees, sometimes, from books to nest outside the walls, in the street, in silence, in dreams, in the skin, in debris, even in the trash. Where he does not usually find shelter is in the verb of the undersecretaries, the merchants or the television gossips.” (Joaquin Sabina)
Well, for those who find it difficult to understand the similarity, I will have the audacity to translate it: “Politics sometimes flees from politicians and parties, to nest in the walls, in the streets, in the silences, in the dreams, in the skin of the citizen, in conflicts and even in poverty. Where it does not usually take shelter is in the verb of the undersecretaries, the powerful or in the pamphlet lechuguinos of those who believe them.
