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Martin Boško Apr 12
Hear the Eagle's painful screech
While those with delusions preach
Poisonous tears of rage and sadness
Spineless bow to feed their Madness
Ants drowning in the Sea of Lies
While laughing vultures from East arrive
The Eagle longingly looks towards the heavens
The Eyes intently stare at sheep armed with AK47s
A spectacular clash of two camps with strong will
The Flawed Experiment of a Shining city upon a Hill
Written November 6, 2020 in the chaos before US election results were called
Daniel Cuzzo Dec 2020
With a flick of the wrist
an added diagnoses
to a significant list
of CO-morbidities
we NOW have
another tragedy
caused by none other
than Covid-19.

In a “crisis,”
it can take
just a witness
that at the end
he wasn’t
breathing properly.

If “they,”
could find a way
to REVERSE diagnose
everyone with asthma
all it would take
for news to do a double-take
is a sprinkle in the pockets
of people who still want
their jobs.

But THEY’RE doing
their jobs.
They’re keeping
many of us alone
drinking alcohol,
eating ice-cream,
adding STREES pounds
to our chests
and building our belief
from our unrest:
that it’s ALL the virus’s fault.

Forget prominent med-journals
that say the same thing
in scientific language.
As soon as statistics tic
like clockwork
we’re accepting
another LOCK-down.

for the vaccine
to give us
our lives back.

That is,
until the next
heart attack
where we NO longer
added Covid to the list
because – hey!  We’re cured.
WE’RE ALL insured
against this intrusion
at the **** numbers
you willingly obey
when the right person
says them.

How is this a pandemic
when the deaths each year
barely differ
from the years before?

As much as the news
is trying to make news
use the right angle
to make us all choose
to do away with our
logical thinking.

The TRUTH is
regardless of
which vaccine
you’re taking
the trade that
be making headlines
is the trade
of our own wellbeing
for a certificate
on official paper
that tells us we are so.
Until then:
none of us are allowed
to think so.
How insensitive
to say “it’s a scare,”
and dishonor
the hard workers
on the “front lines.”

I’ve heard even
mention peculiars.
There are nurses
come undercover
because journalists
won’t do their ****
jobs unless it’s approved.
We’re all in
a stranglehold
and half of us don’t
know it.

So I can’t feel bad
when the populace
is cursing the stupidity
of a family who celebrated
a sweet sixteen.

I can’t laugh,
when lovers
holding hands
on the beech
causes our governors
to make speeches
about how we’re
rebellious children
that the virus
would be over
if people could just
swallow crap

There WILL be
on this crap.
If you fail
you may go to jail.
If you incite unrest,
you will be silenced:
for the “GOOD” of us all.

For the LONGEST time
I’ve kept this to the chest
because I KNEW
those around me
were unreceptive.

I finally decided,
I’d rather go down
before going up
because SOMEONE
has to wake you all up.

won’t be me.
I’ll just **** you off.
But maybe I’ll give
some justice
to myself.

Yes:  myself.
I’m betting
I will be above this
after the 21’st.
Until then,
let me experience
just a TASTE,
of what those
REAL heroes
go through
so you can jeer
and turn your eyes
away from injustice
for the sake
of some status quo
by our favorite
TV shows.

“Trust,” the “Statistics,”
by the end of December
how many will ascend
to something better:
and how many of those
in the Covid Agenda?

Those are the ONLY
I can bank on,
as we water
suburban lawns
out there
the Plandemic II.

The info,
that MIGHT
wake you,
is realizing
there’s a world
of dreams
rather than a world
that keeps you
and liking it.

JUST maybe
you’ll question:

“Which one is it?”
Our day of reckoning
has cometh
So may I suggest that you
sit back  as we
And may I suggest
that you all   just sit back
and take note
Scope out this word art
See how my pen floats
Which is
Mightier than the Sword Art
Ad libs and spammed quotes
So please
Lay witness to the School
As I choose to break art
And  the rules
Man I pity a damnéd fool
But have no time to tell
So knock knock on the door
To your presidential claim
Culture Shock
Forget Fame
Who aims to cast vote?
On just another
Slight of hand  Magician
Just another  Lying
Here to flash folk a sign
Blow your mind
On some dumb  Ill advised
Which was hand written in that
White Snow
Now that's pure dope
Like a coke stench that glistens
But more specific?
I call it the Crack Rock
that comes with the
So do you  Blaze?
the dumbness
Or snort?
Little white lies on that
White line
Yo  don't you know
they're playing
games with your mind
Just to rid you of your spine?
Controlling your torso
with them there
Puppet Strings
Get it?
Like a Puppeteer
puppet strings
That got you  walking the
tight rope
Believing in false hopes
And strange
So go ahead  and sit there
As you soak it all up
Put on that dark coat of
with dignity
Yet  you will soon find
that it's all
blood soaked
in the morse code of a
Secret Society
While loosing all ties to
Welcome to the Mosh Pit
of  Vanity
With fits of hysteria
And if all fails?
You just might as well
Wave the white flag too
If you've lost all Hope
If so?
Then it's R.I.P time to
bury ya
But not all of us are so complacent
and content
Nor are we willing or choose
to live with
This docile vision of

-Written in 2015
At this point I don't trust politicians celebrities or the government... I should have posted this before or even during the election but the timing still seems right, I guess 😒
ConnectHook Nov 2020
One fact remains, though we're cast aside:
Orange Man's driving . . .  (one hell of a ride).
Biden is not president.
The MEDIA doesn't call ****.
"President-Reject Joe B."
Ha ha ha ha hahahahaha
Mark Toney Aug 2020
He's a stable smithy
Thinks his genius words are pithy
As he pounds, pounds, pounds
Into the night

Swings his big word-hammer
Never minding lies and grammar
Cuz he's gotta, gotta, gotta
Fuel the fight

With his bellowslike ire
He stokes the fire
As it burns, burns, burns
To his delight

On his huge word-anvil
Pounds rumor and scandal
As they sizzle, sizzle, sizzle
Burning bright

Hones his words untoward
Like a two-edged sword
As they stab, stab, stab
Like a knife

As his words extrude
They can get really rude
As he pushes, pushes, pushes
Wrong as right

He's a stable smithy
Thinks his genius words are pithy
As he pounds, pounds, pounds
With all his might

© 2019 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
5/26/2019 - Poetry form: Rhyme - © 2019 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Whatever Man,
Just passing through
Randomly while
Like 2
Pumpkins smashed
Yeah, that's how I like mines
All.. squashed
And like.. how they always say,
Bad weather is not meant
to last.. Forever
But rest assured tho
Fair-weather is still in the plan
Oh Ok..
Whatever is clever fella just grab an
But realistically tho
This world that we're living in is not one of make believe or a fairytale
Or are you.. too sensitive
to cope with.. the Real of it?
And another thing,
Why are we.. so easily offended by the quotes and opinions of another man?!
My fellow Americans*
at you
S- M- H
I'm shaking my head
For these are the famous words always spoken by our Presidents
Yet, most of them are just puppets
And the rest of them are.. well.. DEAD
Dead Presidents
But greed is what they truly represent
So why even vote for them or vouch for them, as we pocket them with
Exchanging them from hand to fist
But yet.. most of them are Coun-ter-feits
Like Islands
That are floating in a hidden mist
Like sinking.. battleships.. on the Rift
And.. well.. So for me?
That's more or less a Hit or Miss
On my cerebral GPS
Like the theme of
IJS man Yo
( I'm Just Saying )
Personally, I don't care or know as much as I could or should know about politics. But I will always speak honesty on what I do see and what I think about certain topics at hand IJS ( Hit or Miss ) Catch my drift?
Lord of Lies, Father of Flies, works at dunny
Canarywharf, works to keep
attocerebral sheeple, lairy lambs who wear
wolves, falseclass mooncalves on the way to The Chop.
mooncalves steered nowhere selfless, same
personal darkness where shepherded masses always lead.
sheeple swineherded by churnalistic chyrons,
clarion dogwhistles, catkicking Sirens.
O Suntard,
upclose yr Island Dwarf Sirens are silicone chickens
w/ chlorinated ****, populipstick on neolib pigs.
wonder what Miss New Wotnot did w/ her new wotnots,  notwhat became of Overton widows, Faith, Hope & Charity.
O Suntards,
here on Snickersnee Island, the arrows that fly by night dark
as money are the swords, decapitwatting, which
'**** Sun-
readers - Scumbuyers my Lord, Scumbuyers - '**** yon
nesiote peuplade of Arkadders & Glandricks. & hon-
orary Suntards
(w/ decapitraits) have their Weltanshoed-in
by all lamestream lucrepriest lugenpress UK.
tarders trained at finest spirearchies of teratogeny
to titrate propaganda such that Scumbuyer (my Lord)
in their fractally catkicking swillions swallow
argumenta ad crumenum. Whilst for broadsheet
the wine o' clock news is artfully autoskewed
into expedient misreadient of Ideologreed's ideologredients.
But all Suntards
are caitiff lions on swill. & tho' it might be
proletjorative denouncing semiskilled turnspit
as hyenapanzees,  who covet shortlived Judas perks    
a Camp Kapo might weirdflex, such soulshorting
are owed stiff eyeope' of English truthserum,
veritas tea. My spout is mightier than the sword! O ye
Mudsill Suntards
shaming us Mudsills are horrorsoccer suckers
of squaddies' bodies' botties' colluvies.
ed by sprot, the **** of mationalisn,
upon the Belgrano they still bestow a belligerent bel guardo.
I've Gotchadammerung! Once you were l/ stressful
stepsons I contemned but could not censure, but now,
now Suntards,
I see there is no keeping you onside.
You are not the tacit vassals of subtle ******,
but Suntards benighted,
dim as a dimbo's dimple in a dim light.  
From fruntal brutile futal bowing bove lobes
to yr Suntard
cerebellum, 'tis all massomatic machiavellum
to lumpencommentariat, who script psittacosmic
psyches, themselves onscript (joun. equiv.
of lobbyfodder).  Punditocratic quockerwodgers
Reutardise Suntards,
quote verbatim for quotawonga
vaunted vermin in ermine/ khaki/ tweeds/ pinstripe.
Some professional Suntard-
ers even don Kippot, now Suntard synagogues
of Stockholm syndrome defame in the name
of socialcleansing at home, ethnic abroad. Suntard-
isation is mightier than the Lord! Death
to the fascistinsect, in fact, the preying noncompis
mantis of the Suntard
sheeple, whose dupers delight in Suntard
seinsvergessenheit, but you won't readallaboutit
in the Suntard Times.
Nor of dem jibberly jukes in gilets jaunes,
whom us Anglais should be jel & emulous of, but
istan is too ******* hornswaggled by The Stick
of ragstoriches exceptions to The Rule, too
igrade to evade the headsoftening powerpincers of pomp
& pageantry & Brexcetera Brexcetera. Or maybe
are just plain 'tards for the Indiangiver bingo.
Perfidiousalbion on speed? Pah, Borisbritain's
on spice...& Suntard
skimpressions scantamount to a creed.
O vox populi comix vex me! Our Utopia of Butskellism's gone
crazy l/ a Foxtard!
So don't get Suntarded by the Sun, be luxtarded
by a deep **** on a lost road, struck dumb by heatstroke,
as you squint at our blinding, illuminating star.
Charles Chiam Apr 2020
The Internet arrived; they are confused
"Do not trust everything you read online!"
They warn us sternly, and even threatened
To take away and ban us from the computers
The technology advances, oh so, so very fast
Gone is the concept, of a single shared home PC
The smartphones, the laptops, the tablets etc.
Took the world by storm, and we are all amazed.
And then... Remember what those boomers told us?
About being skeptical and fearful of online information?
Guess what those hypocritical ******* are doing now!?
Fake news fake news fake news fake news fake news!
You nonetheless heed their advice, and learnt fact-checking
Yet, gods forbid you try to "show off" with your evidence!
"Aiyah, I only forward what was shared to me. I'm just caring"
"It seems harmless, so what's the problem??"
My absolute favourite must be...
"Don't talk back to me! Don't you disrespect me! Be silent!
Don't try to show off how smart you are!
I ate more salt than you have eaten rice!
If you don't believe this, just shut up!"
Gods bless Asian parents
What to do... What to do...
#napowrimo #napowrimo2020 #fakenews #asianparents #poets #writers #poems #poetrycommunity #NationalPoetryMonth #false #asianpoets #poetry #factchecking #iamboey
Jordan Hudson Feb 2020
So you walk around like you don't know me
You got friends and I got friends (not so bleak)
But in the end it's still so lonely
You're bringing out a side of me that I don't know
I decided we wasn't gonna speak so
You wait a couple of years and you gonna see
You'll never find anybody better than me
Why would you make moves out of the blue? (not true)
Now I'm awake, sleep less and I'm missing you
Now I'll speak to me, my plead
Don't say you will, unless you will
Play you will, I pray you will
She ends up near me, she in the same room
Can't waste time, she might leave soon
Now back to you
I wish you in my life would come true
I admit I fantasize about you
I'm ending this now before I lose
Please know I made this bad news
Goodbye, I'll miss you
This is fake news
This is fake news (times two)
So you walk around like you don't know me
I got friends and you got friends (more than me)
But in the end it's still so lonely
You're bringing out a side of me that I don't know
Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go
Make it all true
Make it all news
Make it all true
So you walk around like you don't know me
You got friends and I got friends (not so bleak)
But in the end it's still so lonely
You're bringing out a side of me that I don't know
I decided we wasn't gonna speak so
You wait a couple of years and you gonna see
You'll never find anybody better than me
Mark Toney Dec 2019
I realize
I have real eyes
That see real lies—
          (rule of law)
          (rule of lies)
     ~The "ayes" have it
          (hidden agenda)
     ~The "ayes" have it
          (secret addenda)
     ~The "ayes" have it
          (hate crimes)
     ~The "ayes" have it
          (critical times)
     ~Undocumented truth
     ~Unmitigated lies
I realize
I have real eyes
That see real lies—
     ~As the world cries
12/13/2019 - Poetry form: Free Verse - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
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