"exempt" poems
Some People Are ... EVIL ... !!!
Some People Are ... Nice ...
Some People Believe ...
In The Lies They Contrive ...
Black People ... White People ...
Yes ALL TYPES of People ... !!!
Don't Think You're EXEMPT Most People Tell Lies ... !!!
Some People Want TRUTH These People Are Wise ...
These Are The People Who Use Their ... 3rd Eye ...
I'm Sick of These People Whose Lives Are Contrived ...
Like Poets Who Act Like Their Words Breed Insight ...
MAN These Are The People Who Lead A ... FAKE Life ... !!!
Because They Can't Deal With ... What's REALLY INSIDE ...
INSIDE of Their Minds ... INSIDE of Their Hearts ...
See These Are The People Who Fall At The Start ... !!!!!!!!
They STAND By Their PRIDE ...
But Pride We All Know Comes Before A FALL ... !!!
How Many of You Folks Are Playing That Role ... !???!
Let's Go Toe To Toe And See What You Know ...
Because I GUARANTEE ... You'll Be A NO SHOW ... !!!
See They ... Like To Deride ...
Their Comments Are Snide ... !!!
MAN These Are The People I CANNOT ABIDE ... !!!!!!!!
They TALK A Good Game But Have NO **** SHAME ... !!!!!
Because These Are The People Who DON'T Deal With Pain ...
They Pass YOU The Rope ...
And Then Say ... " TAKE THE STRAIN " ... !!!
See These Are The People Who Need Their Blood DRAINED ... !!!
They ARE The Bloodsuckers Who STEAL From The Sane ... !!!
They TALK About TRUTH But Soon HIT The Roof ... !!!
When Truth Is Thrown At Them They're QUICK To ABUSE ... !!!
"I'll issue court action, I want a Retraction !" ...
Well Here Is My View ...
These People Are FOOLS ....
Who've Got Some Screws LOOSE !!!!!
Deal With YOUR ISSUES I've Been In Courtrooms ...
Don't EVER ASSUME I'm An IGNORANT **** ... !!!!!!
This ISN'T ... Pulp Fiction ... !!!
Don't Think I'm ... The Shepherd ...
I'm NOT Samuel Jackson I'm Ready For Action ... !!!
You Will Be Collapsing When I Start Reacting ... !!!
Don't EVER Presume I'm Into ... Play Acting ... !!!
I'll Leave That To You And Your Idiot Crew ... !!!
Cos' These Are The People Who Don't Give You Clues ...
Cos These Are The People Who Simply Aren't TRUE ... !!!
They Like Their Doors OPEN ...
So They Can Walk Through ...
MAN These Are The People ...
Who Walk In ... DEAD SHOES ... !!!
Now I'm NOT Making Threats ... !!!
But On THIS ... You Can Bet ... !!!
Messing With Me ...
Means You're Messing With DEATH ... !!!
Cos' I'm Ready And Willing To Take Your LAST Breath ...
Cos' People Like You Are ... Humanity's DREGS ... !!!!!
But Enough About THEM ... Society's Phlegm ... !!!!!!!!!!!!
Some People ARE NICE These People I Like ... !!!
Cos' Some of These People Do Use The Mic RIGHT ... !!!!!
They Talk About Things That Affect Peoples' Lives ...
Without EVER Thinking Their Wordplay ... DELIGHTS ...
These People Are Humble And SHUN Foolish Pride ... !!!
Cos' These Are The People ... Who Look DEEP INSIDE ...
INSIDE of THEMSELVES And Find Love of The SELF ...
Cos' Love of The Self Can Preserve Mental Health ...
And Help You To Deal With ... DUD Cards You Get Dealt ... !!!!!
These Words Are ........ HEARTFELT ........ !!!
Good People DO HELP ...
WITHOUT EVER Thinking of Helping THEMSELVES ... !!!
Good People Are VITAL For Human Survival ... !!!!
This Is Now The Reason I Do These Recitals ...
I'm Trying To Put .....
Something GOOD In The CYCLE ... !!!
The ... Cycle of Life .....
That Has MANY Good People ... !!!
But TOO MANY People Are Now Doing EVIL ... !!!!!!
Which Is Why I'm Relating My Views About ...........
......... " People " .........
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
***I really like Christmas
It's sentimental, I know, but I just really like it
I am hardly religious
I'd rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu, to be honest
And yes, I have all of the usual objections
To consumerism, the commercialisation of an ancient religion
To the westernisation of a dead Palestinian
Press-ganged into selling Playstations and beer
But I still really like it
I'm looking forward to Christmas
Though I'm not expecting a visit from Jesus
I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun
I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun
I don't go in for ancient wisdom
I don't believe just 'cos ideas are tenacious it means they are worthy
I get freaked out by churches
Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords but the lyrics are dodgy
And yes I have all of the usual objections
To the miseducation of children who, in tax-exempt institutions,
Are taught to externalise blame
And to feel ashamed and to judge things as plain right and wrong
But I quite like the songs
I'm not expecting big presents
The old combination of socks, jocks and chocolate is just fine by me
Cos I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun
I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun***
**And you, my baby girl
My jetlagged infant daughter
You'll be handed round the room
Like a puppy at a primary school
And you won't understand
But you will learn someday
That wherever you are and whatever you face
These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world
My sweet blue-eyed girl
And if, my baby girl
When you're twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home
You'll know what ever comes
Your brother and sisters and me and your Mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun
Whenever you come
Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles
Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum
We'll be waiting for you in the sun
Drinking white wine in the sun
Darling, when Christmas comes
We'll be waiting for you in the sun
Drinking white wine in the sun
Waiting for you in the sun
Waiting for you...
Waiting...**
***I really like Christmas
It's sentimental, I know...***
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac
it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin
indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
*how could the switch
be set so wrong?*
it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
*couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?*
the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 11:45 PM UTC
Humans are demons to creatures
With whom we inhabit the land.
And the sea of course,
We destroy their life source,
No one is exempt from the wrath of man.
How does it feel to be a monster?
A plague on this fragile earth?
That can't support our greed
Or our irrelevant needs.
Who are we to judge an animal's worth?
To look into an animal's eyes
And say our actions are justified
Requires more denial
Than is my style.
I can't support the way they died.
We treat animals like commodities.
Use them for food, sport, game.
It isn't quite right
To crush them with our might.
The way we treat them is a shame.
So when you ask me
Why I choose this life
Maybe you'll see
Animals should be free
From the human inflicted strife.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC
749
All but Death, can be Adjusted—
Dynasties repaired—
Systems—settled in their Sockets—
Citadels—dissolved—
Wastes of Lives—resown with Colors
By Succeeding Springs—
Death—unto itself—Exception—
Is exempt from Change—
7.3k
Tell me, please,
what makes you think I’m not capable
of loving you.
What makes you think that I’ve
never fallen in love with boys who
had nightmares so horrible that they wouldn’t sleep
for days upon days and boys who hallucinated
six crows always circling above my eyes.
Let’s not forget the boy who cringed
and cried when I touched him,
because of where his father’s hands wandered when
he was only five years old.
Tell me, please,
why I don’t know how to love people
who are easy to love,
or why you think that you are some
drastic case of sorrow, survivor’s guilt,
and enough anxiety and depression to bury the world -
you are not. I’ve loved people
who had laid themselves in
deeper graves than you.
Believe me, there is enough scar tissue around my heart
to handle loving every single
part of you.
Darling,
you are not exempt from love.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
you say i trust to equal those in the past
whom have brought only pain and hatred
upon those in their wake?
well it's time to take a look in the mirror
my friend, no, wait, don't do that,
i wouldn't want to inflate your ego
it would come as no surprise to me if in that
mirror you would only see the eighth wonder
of the world, ever wondered if you could see
the world? i take that back, there is no sense
in snapping and losing my temper,
but all i'm doing is back tracking and
finding my self exempt of the respect that i
deserve, only you can serve to notice
the pain that you have harboured
upon the empty hearts of which now yearn
for that ever self-loving and i can only leave
you with this advice
turn around and back off
that ain't love it's idolatry.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
Chronic, demonic, eccentric, magic, poetic, tragic! Dreams it seems of comical or unusual! Visual sights of many sites! Plenty fights, heights, nights, plights and lights! Dreams it seems of chimes, crime, gleams and grime. Moonbeams, rhymes, screams and times. Dreams it seems as they attempt to tempt with contempt! Some become exempt
and unkempt! Dreams it seems of afros, arrows, buffalos, rainbows
and sparrows! Ample, purple-apples hung from chapels! Dreams it seems of hurdles and simple people as pimples jumping from steeples! Dreams it seems of the begotten, forgotten and rotten. Dreams and themes of cotton candy clouds! Crowds in shrouds! Dreams it seems
of the dandy and handy! Glories and gory stories of the holy or unholy. Dreams it seems of crud and mud! The loud and proud! The
vowed and wowed! Dreams it seems of blood and floods! Dreams it seems of amazing, crazing and gazing! I’m phrasing; “Is this a dream a scheme or hell?” Well I couldn’t tell! As I began to scream and
yell! Those streams of dreams that I dream… Dreams that I may, these dreams that I say. Dreams it seems in dreamy dismay.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 10:19 PM UTC
...And then I claimed hell and embedded my soul in mercury
Spun in cotton candy.
Sweet and dandy.
Honey of kindness is what I usually am.
Glazed with a temper of redness and lust
With reckless catapults of whimsical feathered *****
In carefully-woven baskets
Bombarding blanks with loud bangs.
And an identity which took years to make,
I'm a bi-tempered soul of icy / lava flow.
Wanting, needing, consuming life...
Give me flattery and attention!
I was exempt from life's detention!
I was spoiled by the caring hearts of my DNA angels!
Rage first, I protest.
Regrets later, I detest.
I'm a clusterfuck of mixed intentions.
Real words don't spill much beyond fire lake.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
History is written by winners
Their story's the one that is told
The loser's are like dust in a zephyr
Blown away by the wind and the cold
A battle is waged on a hillside
The armies are dressed in chain mail
One side is left battered and dying
So...which side will write down the tale?
A submarine sinks in the channel
It's just off the Dover coast shore
No one survives but the story
of sailors we'll here from no more
Villages destroyed by a virus
It spreads through the town really quick
You know that the story gets written
By the survivors who didn't get sick
Pompeii was wiped out, that's a given
A volcano did wipe out the town
The people were burned to a cinder
So who writes, when there's no one around?
In the movies the cowboys and Injuns
All fight for control of the fort
Do the Indians spread tales of their losses
Do they write it all down just for sport?
As years changed the stories came forward
Of the armies and people who died
They were defending their loved ones and country
It's too bad they were on the wrong side.
As time lumbered on to the future
The winners were not just the ones
Who told what had happened that day
They were not just the ones with the guns
Bystanders came and told what they saw
This would change how stories were told
There was now a new player with stories to tell
And the winners did not look so bold
Things now were written that no one did know
Of the other sides battle attempts
They were not heroes or winners but, losers no more
For these writings now made them exempt
They spoke of their battles, their loyalty, grit
To stand strong and fight for their lives
Even though it was futile, they still thought they would win
Thinking only of children and wives
Now history is written as quick as it comes
Television has surely changed that
You can watch things at home on your big screen tv
And you can feel like you're where things are at.
Deception is gone and the truth now is told
In seconds, not years like before
You see things as they happen, and the final result
May shake your soul to your core.
So....now History is written by winners
and by losers as well just the same
And no matter, whatever the story
You now know all players by name.
Regardless of whatever the story
Be it ****** or sports, games or war
We can now see just how each one has ended
And their honor, and that's what life is for...
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 5:04 PM UTC
Violin strings
Sing
The story of my life
Unlike the blues
They play off
Mahogany
Often, we
Look down at our past
Overlooking
The good quality
Times
And all
Why reminisce
Situations exempt
Of bliss
Sit in
Situations
Awaiting
The arrival
Of my rival
Archenemy
Has characteristics
Found in me
We
Are a story
Plotted
With convictions
Because of
Our connection:
Conflict
My mistakes
Stay with me
As long
As I let them
“Forget regret
It only begets upset”
I can’t remember
Where
I came from
I only remember
The trips,
Falls,
And bumps
Into the walls
I can recall
The long hallway
I wanted to take
But
Afraid
I turned away
What lied at the end
I’ll never know
Death to those
Who don’t find out!
Too late
I’m dead
And the violin sings…
Inside
There’s not much moving
No motion
Promoting me
Deeper into depression
Deprived
Of the one thing promised
In life
Life
Lied to me
The night
I tried
To live
With what I lost
Couldn’t cope
Lost hope
And the scope of issues
Wrapped
Around my throat
As a rope
I fought
Long and hard
To discard
These
Strings of destiny
But the violin sings…
Louder
Than I can cry
It plays
Longer
Than eye’s can cry
Laughter
Lays at the end
Of the room
Smiling
In my face
I look
The other way
And stay stuck
In the past
Beautiful music
Tries to change
The ugly mood
But
Happiness
It doesn’t bring
It just happens
To have a melody
Loaded
With songs to sing
My body
Stays motionless
And
Only my hands
Will ever dream
As they move
To the grooves
And dance
Across the strings.
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:50 AM UTC
Learn to recognize lies, while they stand at
Their podiums, and proselytize,
Like so many Sunday preachers,
You can see it in their eyes, and
Their shifty ****** features, though
Their words seem sincere,
Their subtle cues, serve as
Teachers of their inner intent, so
Don't forget your diligence, and
Let them **** your dissent, with
Empty promises and rhetoric, to
Fill your head with lies about,
How war is for the betterment, of
Nations abroad, the sentiment
Is laughable, the premise is a fraud.
Cause when it all boils down, and
When push comes to shove,
Democracy has grass roots, it's
Not imposed from above, and
At the end of the day, money is
The factor prime, it's the secret
Justifier for this terroristic crime,
First, they bombed Iraqi cities,
In a trial of "Shock and Awe"
That killed even more civilians,
Than what 9/11 saw, and
Once the cities were demolished,
Halliburton then rebuilt them, and
Reaped enormous profits,
To the tune of 40 billion, and
Among other things, in this
"Just" war's spoils, were
The underground oceans,
Flowing full of crude oil, and
We all fund these atrocities,
These lies, these hypocrisies, well
If you decide this ain't the type,
Of thing that you can stand for,
Write "exempt" on line 7, of your W-4
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
Compounded complexity
flexible freedom.
This world we live in...
hold your tongue
let me speak
let me creep
on our country's beliefs.
Ideologies invented by power,
to tell us when to cower,
when to talk
how to walk.
I have a mouth I refuse to shut
My words can be daggers
confident in consequence,
and hence,
I write these rhymes
to challenge your mind.
Look at your empty beliefs
in policies with no relief.
They seize your right
to fight,
stand up and be proud of who you've become.
Who are they to judge
when they smudge equality
and slash justice,
twist the meaning.
The poor stay poor
the rich get richer.
Kids grow up in the gutters
and the government mutters,
"we tried our best,
done all we can."
When the money is spent
in genocide
of those on "the other side"
unaware civilians
mass ****** is our forte
across the ocean
or in our streets,
But you aren't exempt,
blame yourself,
stand up and scream.
I want to put the fight in your eyes,
take off your mask of false certainties.
You think you know how this world works
instead you should step back
and see what you're worth.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
What drives men to do such terrible things?
Am I exempt from such a judgment?
From chaos given and innocence stolen
This world is hellbent
On suffering,
One writes
to be left
On misery
one night
is enough
On loneliness
Oh, how I greet it
With open palms raised to the sky
Tonight is a fine night to die
My belly full of pills
Only prescribed
By men and women
Garnished in white
Oh, this will help me sleep
with kings and counselors
For if you look too long,
bloodshot eyes,
The abyss will grab you from your home
Ode to joy
Hallowed be thy name
My eyes burn as I grip this pencil
And an odd smell lingers in this room
The smell of sterilization.
The smell of cleanliness.
The smell of godliness.
It's far too white here
It's far too bright, I fear
I fear for these students
Fellow and brave
Taking this test
While I'm painting my cave
My cave is solitude and I have picked it out from it's mountain
Rocks fell soon thereafter
Now I cannot leave
This was my choice
But I have one regret
I wish I could have stood still
and been crushed to my death
Much like Giles Corey
I am a sinner
More weight, he cried out
From his pressing board
And much like me, his please were ignored
What drives man to do such terrible things?
Passion, my friend
The same passion for which
I sing
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
How am I to take care of you,
Take care of us,
When you live life in such a rush.
I can't fix myself and your addiction,
It just adds on to my affliction.
And I'm the only one who cares.
The only one who stares
Truth in the face.
I'm done putting your desires in place.
Tonight you looked me in the eye,
And told me to accept some lie,
To listen to your sad escape,
And expect me to accept this fate.
I am dying in your sad attempt
To forget your weakness and leave you exempt,
From consequence.
And I'm expected to love you.
Expected to just trudge through
This mess.
I'm so angry I could just explode,
Concern myself with how you erode
And let yourself burst up into flame.
While I stand still alone to blame.
This is why I cannot leave,
Alone and lost, left to believe
This garbage you call love and honesty.
In death I find my truth and peace,
I can't erase this life I lease.
But I'm **** near cause and effect,
This cause your pain, deflect
The rest.
I would but nought to die before
This life you let fly and to soar,
To my defeat and this weak roar.
I'll **** myself to flee the poor
And sick excuse you call a lie,
Into those clouds I wish to fly.
You're selfish.
My anguish.
I'd bring to death those you call trust
And sacrifice this pathetic lust.
In the corner of the bathroom stall,
Fighting this fight against your brick wall.
You told me to accept who you are,
But this young man is far too far
From who I once loved and believed.
I'm done being beaten and deceived.
I would **** for you.
This truth may be the only brew
I'll let you have again.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
She faded into the oblivious shadows of night,
The mardi-gras converted from dawn to daylight.
Where she danced elegantly in ballroom raves
She etched her body to the rhythm flowing in waves.
Her hunger was lustful in her eternally gazing eyes,
She kept her secrets beneath beauty's seductive gaze,
But when heart beats drowned out the soulful harmony
Penetrating eyes hummed on gullible minds uncertainty.
Her burgundy lips etched on life's needing of lustful kisses,
Eager thoughts on this chardonnay on lips it glistened.
Drained off needing, she rested them peacefully in death
Never noticing until departed that they are exempt of breath.
Invigorated she released the energy of life on the dancefloor
Day descended into nights embrace, so she left out the backdoor,
Upon the streets she smiled at the masks hiding her secrets
When an invite did fall in to her hands, her next feed on a leaflet.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 3:13 PM UTC
i expected everyone to **** me over
except you
one down
7 billion to go
thanks.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak
Four not exempt from pride some future day.
Resting on one white hand a warm wet cheek,
Over my open volume you will say,
'This man loved me'--then rise and trip away.
1.8k
You think
‘cause I live in
A pretty house I don’t
feel pain and haven’t felt things that
leave scars?
There’s more
than my happy
smile that meets your eye.
Been told “I wish I aborted you”,
seen her
convulse
on the kitchen
floor. Caught her with men, caught
her with women, and watched her walk away
without
regrets.
I’ve been lied to,
manipulated, and
abandoned. So don’t cry to me and
tell me
you wish
you had my life.
You don’t know me. I’m not
exempt.
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
I get lost in...
Hidden ideas and deeper meanings to what I'm feeling.
Looking for something real to believe in.
Over-thinking usto...start me drinking...
But I kicked that ***** to the curb and built myself a bandwagon.
That **** was poison, see...
I had to let myself help me.
Now when I close my eyes...
All I can hear is the...
Rattle-rattle-click, rattle-rattle-click...
The sound of round rotations, rolling over bricks.
Measured like a metronome...
Water droplets echo as they drip.
But if freedom is defined by the thoughts in my own my mind, then I'm frozen in the timeframe of tomorrow, never-yesteryear.
And I'm still a revolutionary, I expect the best in Here(point to heart).
And by that, I mean exempt from holding contempt for another mass of energy.
Another open ear.
Another open mind.
Another heavenly body.
Another mystical meteor shower.
Another alien species placed on this planet by a "higher power".
But who am I to point fingers?
To point out flaws.
To point out fraudulence.
To pinpoint the factors that built your facade.
To pick through your red brick fictons of how you think I should be perceiving god.
See...I get lost.
In a magic land...
With a tragic hand.
A tear in time and space...
A human definition of race...
One we so often judge with a 2 sided face.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 12:19 AM UTC
It's impossible to know a person
Really, truly know them
Until you have a conversation at 2AM
Right before you fall asleep
The most human you can be,
There's no wrong or right
Just words filling the silence
Let me see your insecurities,
Your dreams,
Tell me things about you
That I wouldn't know
Remind me I'm not the only person
With problems and that
No one's exempt from suffering
I want to hear it all
Your heart and mind
There's no better time
For a lobotomy
No better time
To not be alone
I'm glad we got to philosophize
Because you don't really, truly
Know someone
Until you converse at 2AM
And it was a pleasure to meet
2AM you
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
We live in a world of talkers,
Of shouters, of debaters, of know it alls.
Listening is a long extinct creature,
Unheard of by a species that has devolved to simply wait their turn to talk.
Conversations no longer flow like rivers,
Instead they are puddles:
Started, then abandoned to become bone dry.
We live in a world of talkers,
All raising their volume to be heard,
Shouting that their opinions are fact.
No being is exempt from the epidemic,
The infectious itch to crank the volume dial right
And scream that the other talkers are wrong.
We live in a world of talkers,
Of screamers, of bigots, of smart alecs
In a universe not made for this noise.
The voices get louder, the status updates get longer, the protests get deadlier.
We live in a world of talkers
And soon we will live in a world of mutes.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 3:08 AM UTC
I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
After I pay off my school loans
Whenever my banker pleases
To let me out of the contract
With its usurious interest fees
And I am sure I will get there
When I am down on my knees.
I’ll have my Republican Bible
With its verses edited wisely
To exempt all the white folk
From behaving quite nicely
And making sure welfare
Is only for rich white neighbors
The rest are not allowed in
Our society except as laborers.
I am sure that Republican Jesus
Will welcome me quite warmly
For supporting the death toll
Of our Christian Soldier army.
He will be so delighted that
We vilified ungodly abortions
And how we treated those awful
Poor mothers and their orphans.
He will have to be delighted
That we held back the riches
We gained from our warfare
Ignoring our soldiers in ditches
Or maimed in those battles
We know you wanted us to wage
In the name of Republican Jesus
Out of our holy sense of rage.
Republican Jesus surely will
See how cleverly we diverted
The money to the richest people
Not the soldiers we deserted.
And, how only the people who
Did not need help financially
Got all the extra wealth we had
And we made sure of it annually.
I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
And I’m sure greed and bigotry
Will just tickle him to pieces
Because it says in the Bible
The only people who will get in
Are the people that look like me
And vote for all the same men.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
"They say I shouldn't use my phone
Because it's unsecure.
Anyone who tells me that
Is full of cow manure.
This talk about encryption--
That's a lot of bunk.
The thought of them taking my phone
Puts me in a funk.
"Some in my administration
Say that they foresee
Trouble if foreign spies are really
Listening to me.
Advisers fear that I might share
Secrets, but I say,
That's not easy 'cause I don't under-
Stand them anyway.
"How I love my cell phone
Because I love to tweet!
If they confiscated my phone,
I'd feel incomplete.
Having all my contacts in my
Cell phone really rocks.
I can get advice from all my
People down at Fox.
"I don't want my calls logged.
It really takes some *****
For my Chief of Staff to want to
Monitor my calls.
That's why I prefer to use
My private phone instead.
Who would even want to try
To get inside my head?
"Oh, Hillary's private server?
That's a different story.
Everything she does is in
A different category.
From rules that govern others
I feel I'm exempt.
That has never made my fans
Regard me with contempt.
"So they can't take my iPhone.
That would not be nice.
They say, 'Donald, it's a perfect
Location tracking device.
Spies collect your data
And know each confidant.'
I say, I'm the president,
And I'll do what I want!"
-by Bob B (10-26-18)
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 10:00 AM UTC