A dark clay raven hung at a windowpane
to ward off bright songbirds from glass.
It never spoke a word, nor did it feign
to know of a departed late lass.

I asked it my questions, expecting more
conversation than it had on offer,
but plainly it found me a tedious bore
for it stayed quiet. Not much of a talker.

The brief encounter left me po-faced
as I’d been led to expect more from him.
So I turned away, belying a trace
of disappointment weighing within.

Then I heard the wind, and nothing much else
except the song of birds who’d survived
thanks to the clay raven who hung by a belt
in front of a window to keep it disguised.

How many crows
Would a scarecrow scare
If a scarecrow could scare crows?

As many crows
As a scarecrow'd care
To scare if a scarecrow could scare crows.

What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.

And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.

Naysayers bleat I'm just an empty ship,
With lights and streamers pretending to be hip,
Without a cargo or destination clear,
Sailing in circles relying on the wind to steer.

But if we're given to analogies, what if I were a Trojan horse,
With clear intent and undisputed course,
Where guile and purpose rule the day,
The aim to soundly win not merely one to play.

Demean and underrate me at your peril,
I can pivot between angel and pure devil,
While my laugh is designed to be disarming,
It masks a side of me considerably less charming.

Everything I've wanted I've achieved,
A trajectory few would have believed,
Do you think I'll stop at this last jump,
And in so doing fully flatten Trump?

𝓐𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓱𝓪𝓶 𝓛𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓷'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮,
𝓝𝓸𝓻 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓘 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓶.
𝓘 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓽 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓮𝓭
𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭.

𝓟.𝓢.  𝓘 𝓯𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓭.

How, or when, or what is not the Akond of SWAT?

Does he pick his nose with his fingers and toes?
When he smells a rose does he slime the rose                 with SNOT,
                                                           ­                       The Akond of Swat?

When he texts a text does he always press SEND?
When he chats online does he chat with a friend            or a BOT,
                                                            ­                      The Akond of Swat?

Does he breakdance, jitterbug, krump, or twerk?
Will he dance a jigg, or jive, or ****,                               or GAVOTTE,
                                                        ­                          The Akond of Swat?

When he eats a banana, does he eat the peel?
Has he eaten an eclectic electric eel                                or a BRAT,
                                                           ­                       The Akond of Swat?
Some one, or nobody, knows I wot
When or how or what is not
                                                           ­                       The Akond of Swat!

I'm sitting pretty biding my time
Staying real quiet towing the line,
For President Biden, that lovely old man
Playing the game as only I can.

Why make loud waves, somehow act up,
When everything soon will fall in my lap,
Quiet will do it, with a giggle or two,
Hold my cards close and see this thing through.

Joe barely knows and doesn’t much care
When all he can muster is the 50 yard stare,
Once a great man now just a shell
Hell of a shame he can't hear the bell.

Time is my friend for as every week passes,
The closer I get to those fawning masses,
Cheering me on as I take our great oath
Sealing my path, cementing my growth.

Joe's a mere tool I’ll use till I'm ready,
But it needs to be soon as he's ever less steady,
Have him beat Trump, that foul mouthed buffoon,
Then on to dear Joe who shan't be immune.

The Media will gush, but just for a bit,
While I contentedly wait and quietly sit,
One gaffe way too many, they'll call for his head,
And here am I ready to jump in instead.

Madam President, sure has a ring,
A fine tune Beyonce will conjure and sing,
As to the fact I wasn't elected,
Who cares if it's me that must be selected.

For those that once doubted my
inscrutable skills,
It gives me the goosebumps and even the chills,
I socked it to Hillary and ******* the great chump,
So call me Kamala, the Queen and a Champ.

My head is in a spin,
My obsession just to win,
I'm driven and I'm mad
All I smell is gushing blood.

I feel I'm in a surreal game
That shooting sort - so very lame,
Where targets pop-up all around,
Nothing ever out of bounds.

What's good for them is great for me,
I'll deftly flatten all I see,
From rabid lawyers to media hacks,
I relish all their wild attacks.

For unbridled as they are
They alone propel me far,
Every moment of every day
From their lips my name they say.

Isn't that just simply grand,
As for every blow they land
Folks just rally to my side
Ferral wokes unable to abide.

I'm a fighter - all see that,
Unlike Joe that doddering dud.
Yes I'm tired - who wouldn't be,
But now the end I clearly see.

With the White House in my grasp,
I doubt I'll even need to ask,
They'll plead with me to take the keys
Given Biden's on his knees.

So while my enemies do the dance,
The time is near for me to prance.
They'll squeal and holler with all their might,
With me cheerleading at the sight.

I'll seal this race and do it quick
By any means and every trick.
Count me out at your great peril,
Not great odds even for the Devil.

What did I do,
Quite the disaster, but if only they knew
The depth of the hole I find myself in,
Thank goodness ambition is no mortal sin.

I seriously thought this thing would be fast,
A simple invasion, a side show, a blast,
Over by dinner then pop the Champagne,
Ukraine by name only, Russia’s domain.

Never the thought came into my head
That a little B actor would play me instead,
Tenacious and cunning he's proven to be
But if chess is the game, good luck playing me.

The West struts its stuff, more noise than effect,
A mish mash of junk all easily wrecked,
Perhaps they forget the Russian resolve,
Stay tuned for a while and watch it evolve.

Ukraine is no match for what we can do,
Time our best friend and that's always been true,
We're patient and hardy, impervious to pain,
We'll suffer and bleed for what's ours to gain.

Don't read me wrong I want this to end,
I'm just very careful which message I send,
At the end of the day I'll make a tough deal,
And a big swath of land I'll invariably steal.

Ukraine won't be happy, the West will cry foul,
But don't be impressed, it's merely a howl,
A little play acting for show and effect,
As for this to continue they clearly all dread.

Ignore the odd glitches it's the outcome that counts,
This hasn't been pretty, a truth with few doubts,
But often what shines is merely fool’s gold,
Land is the key and Ukraine’s I will hold.