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Mark Wanless Jul 2023
We do so hard grasp these nascent bodies
Of thought that any occurrence of change
Brings with it pain. Deceitful aspect strange
This attribute of sentience. Shared lies
Self formed and self believed, and fierce beloved
Distract the known conscious moment again
And again in heroic effort vain
To shut out the ego damning dreaded
Truth of universal equanimity
Non specific to the fabricate me
The i perceiving. No answers can be
Found to malformed questions. The path to see
Begins with forgetting. But to uproot dreams
Of self repeatedly lived, hatedly looms.
LA CA,Baja, New York,Greece:
It might be easy thinking
by the ****** for hire
brain dead childless type,
the covert narcissistic enemies
working the various
Invasive medical fields that
eagerly plot the demise
of a precious heroic human being
Amazing intelligent talented
surviving witness Mom.

Such stupid enemies
Don't you know the fact
that no one can **** an idea much less what an exemplary
stands for; Loving
Raising saving protecting
her legitimate offspring
full custody awarded children
Against deadly jealous medea
habitual drug users sterile
thieving **** of Earth!
Unless evildoers succeed breaking
a righteous human being spirit first.
B.B.A's spirit soul Mom is safe
Guided guarded by
Living among the very best
of bestest from ancient times.
By: Mr and Mrs Andrews
With Karijinbba.
Alpha Jan 2023
So this is where it'll end.
This is where the sky will fall.
After all the gods died here,
So why shouldn't we all?
We've fought for so long,
It's time to get some rest.
We've done all we can,
We've done our best.
But when it's not enough
A sacrifice must be made
To alter the cruel path
That the devil has laid.
Not honour, nor money
Will redeem our reward.
Only a life will do
Where no shield can ward.
So this is where it'll end.
This is where we will be doomed.
This is the final battle.
For a new world under a new moon.
TyeniWrites Jun 2020
I am the flower growing through the cracks
The light from outside filtering through a crack in a glass window
A reminder of how I always make it through life cracks
Always hopeful
Finding my way to survive
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
These are couplets written by Donald Trump and limericks and other Donald Trump poems "care of" Michael R. Burch (please note that these are parodies) ...

Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch

To outfox the pox:
off yourself first, with Clorox!

And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!

No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!

Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!

To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!

To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!

To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!

Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!

Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, humor, Clorox, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, mrbtrump, mrbcouplets

What REALLY Happened
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump lied and lied and lied.
Americans died and died and died.

Grime Wave
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump is ******* crime ...
unless it's his own grime.

Trump Love
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump "love" is truly a curious thing ...
does he care for our kids half as much as his bling?

Tangled Webs
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Oh, what tangled webs they weave
when Trump and his toupée seek to deceive!

No Star
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump, you're no "star."
Putin made you an American Czar.

Now, if we continue down this dark path you've chosen,
pretty soon we'll all be wearing lederhosen.

Raw Spewage (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

is a chump
who talks through his ****;
he's a political sump pump!

Green Eggs and Spam
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

I do not like your racist ways!
I do not like your hate for gays!

I do not like your gaseous ****!
I do not like you, Crotch-Grabber Trump!

I do not like you here or there!
I do not like you anywhere!

Your brain's been trapped in a lifelong slump
And I do not like you, Hate-Baiter Trump!

Apologies to España
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

the reign
in Trump’s brain
falls mainly as mansplain

Stumped and Stomped by Trump
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a candidate, Trump,
whose message rang clear at the stump:
"Vote for me, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!,
because I am ME,
and everyone else is a chump!"

Humpty Trumpty
by Michael R. Burch

Humpty Trumpty called for a wall.
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Now all the Grand Wizards
and Faux PR men
Can never put Trumpty together again.

The Hair Flap
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

The hair flap was truly a scare:
Trump’s bald as a billiard back there!
The whole nation laughed
At the state of his graft;
Now the man’s wigging out, so beware!

Roses are red,
Daffodils are yellow,
But not half as daffy
As that taffy-colored fellow!
―Michael R. Burch

Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch

Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch

The Ex-Prez Sez

The prez should be above the law, he sez,
even though he’s no longer prez.
—Michael R. Burch

Quite Con-trary
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trumpy, Trumpy,
fat, balding and lumpy,
how does your Rose Garden grow?
“With venom and spleen
and everything mean,
and my gasket about to blow!”

Trumpy, Trumpy,
obese and dumpy,
why are your polls so low?
“I claimed I was Cyrus
at war with a virus
but lost every time to the minuscule foe!”

Piecemeal, a Coronavirus poem
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

And so it begins—the ending.
The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending.
Your final solution is pending.
(Soon a portly & pale Piggy-Wiggy
will discount your death as "no biggie.")

Viral Donald (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump is coronaviral:
his brain's in a downward spiral.
That pale nimbus of hair
proves there's nothing up there
but an empty skull, fluff and denial.

Viral Donald (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Why didn't Herr Trump, the POTUS,
protect us from the Coronavirus?
That weird orange corona of hair's an alarm:
Trump is the Virus in Human Form!

Red State Reject
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

I once was a pessimist
but now I’m more optimistic,
ever since I discovered my fears
were unsupported by any statistic.

The Red State Reaction
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Where the hell are they hidin’
Sleepy Joe Biden?

And how the hell can the bleep
Do so much, IN HIS SLEEP?

The Final Episode of Celebrity Apprentice President
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald
said to The Donald,
"Just between us clowns, your polls are too low!"
So The Donald thought hard
then said to his pard,
"It's because I'm a martyr. The world must know!"
Thus Eric Trump jumped
from his obese Trump ****
to declare the virus a "hoax." (End of show.)

modern Midas
by michael r. burch

they say nothing human's alive
yet the Hermit survived:

the last of His kind,
clean out of His mind.

they say He relentlessly washes His fingers,
as dainty as ever, yet the smell of death lingers.

they say it sets off His corona of hair
when He blanches with fear in his Mansion Faire.

they say He still spritzes each strand into place
though there’s no one to see in that hellish place.

they say there’s a moral in what He’s become
as He fondles gold trinkets and cradles His john.

Mother of Cowards
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

So unlike the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Spread-eagled, showering gold, a strumpet stands:
A much-used trollop with a torch, whose flame
Has long since been extinguished. And her name?
"Mother of Cowards!" From her enervate hand
Soft ash descends. Her furtive eyes demand
Allegiance to her ****'s repulsive game.

"Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!" cries she
With scarlet lips. "Give me your hale, your whole,
Your huddled tycoons, yearning to be pleased!
The wretched refuse of your toilet hole?
Oh, never send one unwashed child to me!
I await Trump's pleasure by the gilded bowl!"

Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There once was a brash billionaire
who couldn't afford decent hair.
Vexed voters agreed:
"We're a nation in need!"
But toupée the price, do we dare?

Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Oh crap, we elected Trump prez!
Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez!
For if anyone thinks
And says his "plan" stinks,
He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez!

White as a Sheet
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump had a real Twitter Scare
then rushed off to fret, vent and share:
“How dare Bernie quote
what I just said and wrote?
Like Megyn he’s mean, cruel, unfair!”

Raw Spewage (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

is a chump
who talks through his ****;
he's a garbage dump
in need of a sump pump!

we did not Dye in vain!
by Michael R. Burch

from “songs of the sea snails”

though i’m just a slimy crawler,
my lineage is proud:
my forebears gave their lives
(oh, let the trumps blare loud!)
so purple-mantled Royals
might stand out in a crowd.

i salute you, fellow loyals,
who labor without scruple
as your incomes fall
while deficits quadruple
to swaddle unjust Lords
in bright imperial purple!

Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes!

Twinkle Wrinkles
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Twinkle, twinkle, little "star" ...
Trump, how we wished you blazed                 afar!

Twinkle, twinkle, Groper-Cupid ...
How we've wished you weren't so stupid!

Twinkle, twinkle, Man-Baby "president" ...
In truth you're just the White House resident.

Americans have the opportunity
to greatly improve their community
with votes a-plenty
in 2020.
—Michael R. Burch

Joe Biden, Joe Biden,
our future is ridin’
on you defeatin’
and hidin’
that cancerous lump
called Trump.
—Michael R. Burch

The Perfect Storm
by Michael R. Burch

Stormy Daniels
is Trump's worst nightmare—
a truthteller,
a woman without fear,
full of *****,
unimpressed by his junk,
that he can't debunk.

by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Carmen Yulín Cruz is a hero.
Donald Trump is a zero.

15 Seconds
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Our president’s *** life—atrocious!
His "briefings"—bizarre hocus-pocus!
Politics—a shell game!
My brief moment of fame
flashed by before Oprah could notice!

March for Our Lives
by Michael R. Burch

It's not a moment,
created to save
innocents from the grave.

Tweety and Pootie
sittin' in a tree
First comes love,
second comes marriage,
third barechested weasels in a White House carriage!
—Michael R. Burch

Three Trump Valentine's Day Poems


If you're tall, blonde and pretty,
I'll grab your kitty.
If you're dark-skinned and short,
It's time to deport!


I'll secure your southern border tonight,
as long as you're wearing white!


If you're not
as hot
as my daughter,
for the slaughter!

Why did Trump endorse Roy "Score" Moore when Nostradumbass claimed he "knew" the Sludge Judge couldn't win? ...

Predators of a feather
flock together.
—Michael R. Burch

Kneeling Verboten
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Colin Kaepernick took a stand by kneeling;
now Donald Trump is reeling
as the NFL owners he implored
lock hands with the players he deplored.

How the Fourth ***** Ramped Up
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump prepped his pale Deplorables:
"You're easy marks and scorables!
Now when I bray
click your heels, obey,
and I'll soon promote you to Horribles!"

Trump Trumps "We The People"
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump fired Comey
to appoint a *****:
some pawn in his Kamp
with a big rubber stamp.

Out the window flew freedom!
Rights? You don't need 'em!
Like Attilâ the ***,
Trump answers to no one!

Do you think you have worth?
Trump makes you his serf.
He's your Lord and your Master:
you elected DISASTER.

Pass the Hat for the Fat Cat
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

If you're a Fat Cat,
vote for an Autocrat;
otherwise, stick with a Democrat ...
or get ready to pass the hat
for yourself,
doomed by that strange little pixie-fingered orange elf.

****** Assaulter-in-Chief
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald Trump Bozo
bopped Bill Clinton Clown on the nose: “Oh,
I’ll trump your cigar
with my groping, by far,
when I bounce interns on my Big Pogo!”

Trump's Donor Song
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

(lines written after it became apparent that Trump is not
"draining the swamp" but stocking it with his crocodilian
donors and political piranha)

christmas is coming, the Trumpster's purse is flat:
please put a Billion in the Fat Cat's hat!
if you haven't got a Billion, a Hundred Mil will do.
if you haven't got a Hundred Mil, the yoke's on you!

Alt-Right White Christmas
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump's dreaming of a White Christmas,
just like the ones he used to know
when black renters groveled
or lived in hovels
while he laughed and shouted **-**-**!

by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Is a chump,
He’s an
Orange Heffalump.
His hair?
Made of batter.
His brain?
***** matter.
His “plans”?
A disaster.
His “position”?
Your Master!

Fool's Gold
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

THE DONALD has won (so we're told).
If it's true, worthless swampland's been sold!
But who were the buyers?
Poor folks who trust liars
and pay through the nose for fool's gold.

by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Agent Orange is full of bunk:
Tiny-fingered, he claims a big "trunk."
And his "platform"? Oh my,
I think we'd all die!
And he can't even claim he was drunk!

NOTE: Donald Trump claims that he doesn't drink alcohol, except when he partakes of Holy Communion. However, Trump insulted the body and blood of Jesus Christ when he spoke dismissively of his "little *******" and "little wine." He claims to be a Christian, but also said that he never asks God for forgiveness! Is he punch drunk or just pulling our legs about being a Christian?

by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There's something I'd like to debunk:
the GOP's not in a "funk."
The Donald, by choice,
is its unfiltered voice.
Vote for someone who's sane, or we're sunk!

Fooling Around
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald Trump-Bozo
cried, “Clinton Clown cheats with his yo-yo!
He plays fast and loose!
It’s clearly abuse!
Whereas broads love to bounce on my pogo!”

BTW, it's amusing that Rudy Giuliani is now Trump's surrogate, defending him from accusations of ****** assault and other improprieties by scores of women, when in a 2000 "Mayor's Inner Circle" video, Giuliani in drag had his "*******" schmoozed by The Donald, after which Giuliani slapped his face and called him a "***** boy." Obviously, Giuliani was well aware of Trump's reputation for grabbing and groping women without bothering to ask for their permission! Trump's outrageous behavior was a running joke among alpha males in his circle. In 1993, fellow bad boy Howard Stern asked Trump directly: “So you treat women with respect?” Trump answered honestly: “No, I can’t say that either.” And hundreds of chauvinistic public statements and tweets by Trump confirm that he doesn't treat women with respect, or minorities, or anyone that he considers "weak" or "overweight" or "unattractive."

Trumping Tots
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Things that go bump in the night
fill Herr Trump with irrational fright;
his brain hits the skids;
he shrieks, "Ban dark kids!"
Where's his self-lauded "courage" and "might"?
Is cowardice Trump's kryptonite?

Trump Explains Why His Hair Looks Like ****: It's Been Bleached By Drool
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

"Although my hands are quite tiny,
I have an enormous hiney;
so I stick my head in,
predicting I’ll win,
while everyone kisses it shiny!"

The Name and Blame Game
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

If you have a slightly offbeat name,
you'll be de-planed, detained, restrained, defamed.
Supremacists know pure white names are best,
so be prepared to prove you're among the Blessed.
(Woe unto those who fail Trump's Litmus Test!)

Trump the Game Plan
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There once was a huckster named Trump
who liked to be kissed on the ****.
He promised awed voters
if they'd be his promoters,
he'd magically fix up their dump.

Now the voters were dreaming of Ronald
and hoping they'd found him in Donald.
And so, lightly "thinking"
after much heavy drinking,
they put out, as if they'd been fondled.

But once he'd secured the election
Trump found his fans cause for dejection.
"I only love tens!"
he complained to his "friends,"
then deported them: black, white and Mexican.

Thus Donald fulfilled his sworn duties
by ridding the land of non-cuties.
Once the plain Janes were gone
he could smile on his throne
surrounded by imported beauties!

what a cad;
the Orange Heffalump
scowls when he sees
a baby bump!
Like the Grinch who stole Christmas
(but every day of the year),
The Donald eyes happy
mothers with a leer!
―Michael R. Burch

NOTE: Donald Trump actually body-shamed Kim Kardashian for having a baby bump, saying that she was "large" and ought to watch the kind of clothes she wears in public!

Donald Trump Campaign Songs

Christmas is coming!
Tycoons are getting fat!
TRUMP says, "Take a ****
in some beggar's hat!
Beat him to a pulp
then run him out of town
if he dares object to
the MAN with the GOLDEN CROWN.
And if you're not a Christian,
nothing else will do!
But if you're just like TRUMP,
then may TRUMP bless you!
―Michael R. Burch

SANTA CLAWS is coming to town!
He sees Spics when they're sleeping
and Blacks when they're awake!
He knows that Whites are always good,
but dark skin is God's mistake.
So if you're some poor orphan
with slightly darker skin,
all blacks and Mexicans!
―Michael R. Burch

Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch

Dark Shroud, Silver Lining
by Michael R. Burch

Trump cares so little for the silly pests
who rise to swarm his rallies that he jests:
“The silver lining of this dark corona
is that I’m not obliged to touch the fauna!”

Zip It
by Michael R. Burch

Trump pulled a cute stunt,
wore his pants back-to-front,
and now he’s the **** of bald jokes:
“Is he coming, or going?”
“Eeek! His diaper is showing!”
But it’s all much ado, says Snopes.

Mini-Ode to a Quickly Shrinking American Icon
by Michael R. Burch

Rudy, Rudy,
strange and colludy,
how does your pardon grow?
“With demons like hell’s
and progress like snails’
and criminals all in a row!”

Christmas is Coming
alternate lyrics by Michael R. Burch

Christmas is coming; Trump’s goose is getting plucked.
Please put the Ukraine in his pocketbook.
If you haven’t got the Ukraine, some bartered Kurds will do.
But if you’re short on blackmail, well, the yoke’s on you!

Christmas is coming and Rudy can’t make bail.
Please send LARGE donations, or the Cause may fail.
If you haven’t got a billion, five hundred mil will do.
But if you’re short on cash, the LASH will fall on you!

Keywords/Tags: Trump, Donald Trump, poems, epigrams, quotes, quotations, Rudy Giuliani, Ted Cruz, Cancun, Christmas, evil, democracy, coup, treason, treasonous, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America

In My House
by Michael R. Burch

I was once the only caucasian in the software company I founded and managed. I had two fine young black programmers working for me, and they both had keys to my house. This poem looks back to the dark days of slavery and the Civil War it produced.

When you were in my house
you were not free—
in chains bound.

"Manifest Destiny?"

I was wrong;
my plantation burned to the ground.
I was wrong.

This is my song,
this is my plea:
I was wrong.

When you are in my house,
now, I am not free.

I feel the song
hurling itself back at me.

We were wrong.
This is my history.

I feel my tongue
stilting accordingly.

We were wrong;
brother, forgive me.

Published by Black Medina

Keywords/Tags: Race, Racism, Black Lives Matter, Equality, Brotherhood, Fraternity, Sisterhood, Tolerance, Acceptance, Civil Rights

by Michael R. Burch

Toss this poem aside
to the filigreed and the prettified tide
of sunset.

Strike my name,
and still it is all the same.
The onset

of night is in the despairing skies;
each hut shuts its bright bewildered eyes.
The wind sighs

and my heart sighs with her—
my only companion, O Lovely Drifter!
Still, men are not wise.

The moon appears; the arms of the wind lift her,
pooling the light of her silver portent,
while men, impatient,

are beings of hurried and harried despair.
Now willows entangle their fragrant hair.
Men sleep.

Cornsilk tassels the moonbright air.
Deep is the sea; the stars are fair.
I reap.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly

Published as the collection "Not-So-Heroic Couplets"
Ron Sanders Mar 2020
I have weathered wolves and deities,
fought horrors dreamt and real,
kept my word and my identity,
though the system bade me fail.
I have championed my brother,
taken succor with the weal,
sourced my secret tides for good and ill,
bore my pain beyond the pale.
I have rendered unto god and man
the body of my pride
till nought remained to mark that space
where faith and fact collide.
And Honesty is my guide.

I was written on this rock to bleed,
consigned to sweat and soil,
a thing unique in cloth and creed,
made common by the seams.
Like all my peers resigned to chance,
to tedium and toil,
I cut my teeth on circumstance,
and lost my way in dreams.
Yet while I breathe I pledge to rise,
to march and never yield—
Equality, my driving cause,
Resolve, the spear I wield.
And Dignity is my shield.

I have battled man’s disdain of man,
have argued every view;
a noble goal that took its toll:
my final days are few.
With broken cross and broken back
I’ve come to common ground,
to trade this light for entropy,
to lay my candle down.
I am he:  I am Humanity,
in all his pride and shame.
Black, white, yellow, red or brown:
unlike, yet all the same.
And as I near that vile pit
to quit this passing flame,
with one last leap of faith I claim
the soil whence I came.
And Weariness is my name.

Thanks for reading And Weariness Is My Name.

Get Out of The Whirl, my complete volume of verse, right now for just 1.99 at:

copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders.

Scene I

Rodolfo Graizani is seen sat in his new office in Addis Ababa .
A messenger salutes and hands him over a telegraph  letter saying " it is from Benito Mussolini."
Graizani reads the message loud

We have done
Things good!
Hurrah at long last,
Using banned
Poisonous gas,
Ancient Ethiopia
We have subdued.

For our damaged moral,
We nurse after
The battle of Adwa,
The aforementioned news
Will be a nourishing food.
Slavish obedience
To fascism
In Ethiopia
We shall advance
Be firm
In our iron grip stance.

Hurrah, Ethiopia
Will be Italian
Infuse that
We can
With the dictates
Of  the gun.

(Graiziani stands up and walks in the room with a jubilant mood while the messenger watches him wide-eyed.)

Yes our subjects,
Ethiopians, serfdom
We shall teach
Hence summoning
Addis’ residents
I have to make
A grand speech.
And also
I will
Coax priests
Slavish obedience to us
To subtly preach.

When our subjects lose
Their identity
We shall
Enjoy liberty
To siphon their wealth
Or property,
Also as a tactic,
Among citizens,
We should promote disparity.

Messenger what can you say?
Tomorrow will be my day!

(Messenger putting both hands on his head)

Good God
But I’m afraid
You may not do that
Unless every nation-loving
You behead.

Be it luring them with a gold
Or threatening them with a sword
Unflinchingly, religious leaders
Will prefer to be a sod.
They will call down
On you a curse
If you try
To desecrate
Their abode,(Pope Petros)
You see
Preachers and the laity
Have a genuine faith
In God.
Also to
Fight back
They are bold.

(Graiziani pointing his finger towards the messenger)

Get out
Me don’t try
To flout!

Rather, let me practice presentation
To grab the audience’s attention.

Tomorrow putting on my uniform,
Bedecked with medals,
This message
I will drive home
Also the video footage
I will send to
Musoloni in Rome!

 Scene II
(Grizani dances into a podium. A messenger asks congregants to stand up for a tumultuous applause)

On nationalistic bombast
We have set a ban
Like it or not
Ethiopia is Italian
By the virtue of the gun.

(Among the congregants stands up a hoary-headed man)

We are citizens
Born free
Yield shall not we
To your crazy decree
Haven’t you read
How Emperor Twedros II
Lodged a bullet
Into his head?
Not to surrender!
Why don’t you look
After he fought hard
Why his life into his hand
He took.

How do you try
To subjugate
A nation,
With freedom that surfed
The tide of time to date?

(Angry Graziani answers)

How do you fail to realize
In the meantime Italy
Will help you
To civilize?

(Two two young adults(Moges Asgedom/Abrham Deboche) threw bombs )

Swish blast
Swish blast

Graiziani realized
How the breath
That could be his last,
Drew close fast.

To Graiziani
After it became stark
He narrowly escaped
A bomb attack
And his speech of
In Ethiopia is
An empty talk,
Still on the floor
He ordered attack.

 Scen III
(In front of the Yekatit 12 Martyr’s monument a small kid asks his father how Ethiopians regained their independence after the massacre ordered by  Griziani, who  soon after surviving the bomb attack, gave instruction for a cold blood retaliation.

The father dressing the hair of his child and looking him said patriots that  ambushed at the valleys and mountains of Ethiopia vowed to fight out invaders. They succeeded in doing so after a five year occupation of Ethiopia)

Waging a Guerilla fight
Shortly we shall gain our right
"Aiming from a tree high
We have patriots
That hit fighters’ jets on a dark sky!"(Patriot Belaye Zeleke)

“ As hitting a nail on the head
We have fighters
That pierces through
A tight tread.”           (Patroit HaileMariam Mamo)

“In the nook and cranny
And every gorge
We will wage
Many heroic fight
Enemies from
Our soil to dislodge”(Geresu Dukie/Jagama Kelo/Abbebe W/Aregai/Omer Semeter/Balcha Abanefeso...)

“We have heroes smart
With an artillery missile
That pierces artillery apart!” (Patroit Bekle Weya)///
Base d ON A TRUE STORY (1929 Ethiopian calendar + 8 GC)
Ian Robinson Jan 2019
It was reddish with the sky all to white
a silent wind hushed the painted day sky
And forward I faced my back towards the night
and I soared with that warm wind ever so high

Up so high where I can breathe so clearly
Fleeing with the storm clouds drawing so near
I attempt to escape my hate hastily
The cleaver draws ever closer to my dear

Flying up to the man's neck with my shear
Without saying goodbye i take my stride
and quickly "He's dead, gone" i clearly hear
Again i take to the wind and the morning
I save time by changing and taking sides

I hope to get home swift before scorning
And go join in the day break aborning
This is what i call a broken sonnet as it has 15 lines instead of 14 but it still has 10 syllables per line
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