Does our constitution not preach of the unalienable, God-given rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? Does our Statue of Liberty, one of the most historic figures of our freedom, not cry out for the “tired, poor, huddled masses, yearning for freedom?” Does our freedom bell not ring? Has the golden door closed? Has Lady Liberty turned her light off? Have our soldiers laid down their guns?  Who are we as a country to deny our foundation and shut our doors? If all men are created equal, why are we watching with judging eyes?

Nasty.
Things have started
to get nasty, people
have stopped pretending
that they are not evil

the fabric of fake nicety
has been scorched down
and we fight in the face of
a wrinkled green gremlin

whose name is many
whose language is disgust
whose heart is sealed shut
whose pride is gleaming ****

Disgusting.*
How did we get here? we
huddled, tired, hungry & poor
standing at her pale jade door
being told we’re a liability

pushed out of homes we own
and families we’ve raised
to the streets, making noise
fighting though we’re so tired

It’s how they want us—
tired from years of fighting,
too tired to keep on.
But we’ll never stop.

Though their name is many,
ours is more. The teeming
multitudes arise to take

his place. We protest. We resist.

Nasty.
The gloves are off,
and we persist.

“Humankind: be kind – be One!
I am appalled at what’s been done.
Benign intentions must restrain us.
Hate should never entertain us.”

The toad comedian Ban Ki-Moon
croaked a pitiful One-World tune
while gunmen paused, reloaded, armed
checked that they had no comrades harmed –
and then prepared for further battle
against the clueless kuffar cattle.

Ban stood upright to intervene;
surveyed the terrorific scene…
muezzins chanted, mullahs chuckled
swords were sharpened, bomb-vests buckled.
Dhimmi dim-wits went on shopping.
(Are heads in sand less prone to chopping ?)

Hesitating, he cleared his throat,
raised his pitch by a quarter note:
“These acts are most undemocratic
We are saddened; yet emphatic – “

(no one heard his discourse further
drowned by the sound of massive ******…)

So let’s consider what is meant
by rolling heads and bodies splattered…
time for Truth to represent
(as if such inconvenience mattered…)

Such events disturb our sleep
and force us to compose, on waking,
lullabies for drowsy sheep
as predators are overtaking.

Flags of doom and holy slaughter,
sons of Ishmael filled with rage
are coming for your wife and daughter
and yourself. You turn the page.

Rising now to storm your tower
(7th century back to bite you),
Allah brings satanic power
to convert you or to smite you.

****** dhimmis would have us think
such rage is due to unemployment;
pure confusion on the brink
of funding further troop deployment.

Meanwhile, mullahs sip their tea
while tenured academics prattle
watching MSNBC
as soldiers die in battle.