"fbi" poems
HEAR YE HEAR YE:
It's a wedding bell for bedding well cause' we're crushin' the illusion of Russian collusion! CNN wets on Russian bedding but Trump bets on Russian wedding, and you're invited to the bridal shower. Punking the monkery, dig the debunkery; from Rasputin to Putin it's time for some straight shootin'. Hillary looks old and glowers at Donald's rumored golden showers. Our media owes US an explanation for streams of steaming urination, but we are willing to forgive and use their wet diapers as debt wipers. My poem's appeal may take a toll, but let its little peal now roll:
****** ****** rings the bell
A Fake News warning; time to spell
out what was wet with Moscow girls.
Putin's putas ? Wisdom's pearls
were pried from Truth's reluctant shell,
banishing Hillary straight to hell.
None. It's what we want left over
from this hag. We now discover
beds were dry; it all amounted
(all those golden tricks recounted)
to less than a tepid bowl of kasha. . .
Russia laughed from her summer dacha.
InfoWars was on it first
while Dems spun lies from false to worst,
awarding cash for faked dossiers
embellished with the CIA's
well-trained performing circus-seal.
The FBI endorsed the deal
as RINOS horned in on the action:
Washingtonian distraction;
a democrat-concocted fuss—
. . . but we ALL paid Hillary to **** on us.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 4:47 PM UTC
if I got a poem out of every message I receive...ha!...I do...
quite a bit upon to chew,
but a request from her,
to please ignore her weirdness,
too juicy to pass unnoticed,
because it goes to the heart of the mad matter
'tis that weirdness that I do so cherish,
fully reflected in my own poem-children,
my multiple identities, that the FBI is yet tracking
give me your weirdness, yearning to be free,
so my poems can be inscribed upon a crown
and daughter adopted dear,
that one crown,
thy name,
thy madness upon it etched,
modified to rest
easy
upon thy temples
<•>
for Ali
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
Once, far away, Andalusia of time.
Was I, this dreamer, this student of crime.
Devouring textbooks with a gluttonous glee.
Of masters I conversed with, with lives like movies.
FBI-profilers, psychopathologists.
Faces carved from paleo-lithic stone.
The hearts of sailors betrayed by Triton.
Their ill-fitting suits an anarchists cry.
Oh blessed hearts long since buried in the plots,
of victims whose killers would never see man’s courts.
Who knew the world and hoped to teach I,
this fresh young prey with a predator’s eye.
This fresh young prey with a predator’s eye.
Sat I with the masters, in those secret little rooms
where the dead are shuffled to have chosen for them a grave.
And it’s never more real than when the beast sits still.
In the agonising ordinary glow of the halogen buzz
that shines on guilty and innocent alike.
To reduce us all to such pathetic things.
That if not for the debt, this creature’s crimes
one could pity being on such obscene display.
If it were not known to me, in great detail
the river of misery and depravity he had left in his wake.
As a mugshot robs the aura, so too the well lit room.
And I understood why it took a much colder mind.
As even though I possessed all the faculties which
could follow and track and trap the prey;
the predator must also ****
And being in those secret little rooms
I knew I could not see it through.
I left it to those stronger than I
and leave my mark through other designs.
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
The hair is almost normalized,
The hands we hardly notice,
Real news is, with my ensemble,
A red tie splashes well.
I bear your false witness,
The hookers and the lies,
I'd get the heebie-jeebies,
If I ****** with the FBI.
But the skin, the skin,
What color's that,
That hides the blackness found within.
That wraps a frame that wracks the sane,
And covers a skull with dubious brains.
It conceals the bloated air,
From lungs to lips,
From bowels to his finger tips.
It doesn't matter how his fits,
It can't conceal he's full of ****
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
Trump sat in his tower, supreme in every way
Whatever he wanted, he only had to say
The President to the press corps, of him, one day made fun
I’m gonna replace you bud, when your term is done
He started his campaign, they said he was a joke
But he became popular with all the common folk
The stuff that he spouted, was more and more absurd
But the stupid morons, swallowed his every word
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
There's no such thing as climate change, everything is fine
Burning coal and shale oil is perfectly divine
Those lefty enviornmentalists love to yell and shout
(making lots of money is what I'm all about)
The Mexicans are gonna pay when I build the wall
And I’ll lock you up Clinton, guaranteed next fall
No one could believe it, when the count was done
The blonde haired, orange faced, nitwit, actually had won
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
It’s just that he was used to, always getting his way
He signed executive orders, on his very first day
The Judges over ruled him, and put him in his place
They threw the executive orders, right back in his face
He’s having lot’s of problems, with the phoney press
And though he tweets daily, it’s still causing distress
If he bombed the Syrians, maybe it would make amends
But all he succeeded in doing, was **** off his Russian friends
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
The FBI investigate, so he fired their chief
The replacement just carried on, Trump got no relief
Congress is thinking, let's put Trump against the wall
Pence is in the wings, just waiting for their call
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
battling demons
or suffering PTSD
with ADHD
and OCD
on TCH
looking for LSD –
need a little TLC
from the FDA
the EPA
just went MIA
and the UN
blames the FBI
while the CIA
and the NSA
seek the PLO –
brb
LOL, IDK
the shizzle is cray cray
****** be trippin
er’ry day
like Ross say
“don’t **** wit me” –
the USA
in betrothed to the NRA
and OSHA
just gave me a passing score
at the same time as the AMA
failed my blood
stylistically, this is MLA
and functionally it’s more WWE
TNT
CNN
t’n’a --
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
Some times tremors of foolish wise thoughts,
pass man's mind like waves of earth quakes
across the muscles of unsuspecting earth,
to day one of the type has visited my brain,
i ask myself why John F Kennedy committed suicide,
with all the resources and riches in America of Kennedy's time,
The FBI, CIA, NATO and the shrewd Mozart, the security masters
of the world's vogue all guarding the Kennedy the president,
how came that the public imbecile had claim on his life,
money overflowing like the waters of River Congo,
into insatiable Atlantic basin is the simplest measure
of American riches that Kennedy headed at his time of demise,
full backed with intellect matchless muscle from study of history,
eloquent like the weaver birds of Uganda in the city of Mbale,
sending all packing in the likes of Nehru, Nyerere and Nkrumah,
perhaps subdueable in single phase to the mighty of Castro,
how comes that a madman killed Kennedy in the fullness of the day,
was it the invisible hand of the Ku klux **** Synagogue of Satan or Freemason,
the death of Kennedy is none other than beautiful suicide
or the active curse of fate, misfortune and violent death.
Why Nkrumah died out of power was political suicide,
his knowledge of the world set African pace,
towering mentally above all else in the chronicles of consciesism,
he stood like a tor on the African mountains against Senghor
Why Colonel Afrifa putsched Nkrumah is none else
other that suicidal politics played at helm of power.
why Tom Mboya died is suicide of suicides
to believe that reason can overwhelm ethnic sentiments
in a tribal consciousness of country like Kenya
in time of Kenyatta,
to foolishly conceive that Kikuyu can assassinate a Kikuyu
was Luo foolishness of that particular century,
it is Mboya who bought the gun that shot him dead,
it is Mboya who bankrolled his own assassin
he brought to the world political suicide of the century.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 5:52 AM UTC
Watchin' bikinis as they stroll,
they show a lot of skin, but not much soul.
You're out of your league boy, but that's OK.
Tomorrow could be your lucky day.
And you'll find me in that sunny weather,
I'm gonna get myself together,
till my skin turns into leather,
down on the Redneck Riviera.
"4x4s" sportin' bars-n-stars.
Ball caps and tank tops, their hittin' the bars.
Tattoos gettin ********* scarin' "tourys" away.
It's alright Ma tomorrow's a beach day.
And if you ain't a "toury"
you're runnin' from your past.
FBI, DEA or maybe the IRS.
Past wives, past lives, AWOL.
Everybody knows you here, but no one will tell.
Non-com fly-boys with their Amerasian wives,
bringin' 'em to America, given 'em better lives.
Some stay together, but others will roam.
They'll hit the street for money like they did back home.
And you'll find me in that sunny weather,
I'm gonna get myself together.
Frankly Scarlet I don't give a **** about Tara.
I'm down on the Redneck Riviera.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
KKK
KKK
KKK
took my baby, my baby away
KKK
KKK
KKK
took my baby, my baby away
KKK
KKK
KKK
took my baby, my baby away
Away, Away from me
KKK took my baby, my only baby awayyyyyyy
Call the president
Ask Him where my baby went?
Bring me up the FBI
Found out if my baby is Dead or Alive?
KKK
KKK
KKK
took my baby, my baby away
KKK
KKK
KKK
took my baby, my baby away
KKK
KKK
KKK
took my baby, my baby away
Away, Away from me
From me from me from me
They Told Me that she went to LA
They Told Me that She is away for
holidays
They Lied They Lied They Lied
KKK Took my baby away
KKK took my everything from me
They took my only baby away
Away from me
KKK
KKK
KKK
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 4:28 AM UTC
Once a year they'll disappear
To a place their wives can't go
With chicken wings and other things
To watch the super bowl
A place where chick flicks don't abide
For testosterone rules this place
A place where a man can be a man
With no girly stuff or lace
A place so secret even the FBI
Don't know of its existence
It's guarded by lots of ***** traps
And mans undying persistence
A place where women cannot enter
I'm talking about their wives
A secret knock will open the door
To a land of beer and high fives
So if your husbands disappear
Without even a kiss or a wave
He's only gone for once a year
To visit his secret Man Cave
Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 7:24 AM UTC
So Putin helps Trump win an election
And subsequently feels elated.
He is still anticipating
How he will be compensated.
Who are the ones who cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap?
Watching the Trump administration
Blame and distrust the FBI
Also tickles Putin as Trump
Makes it a target to vilify.
Watch Putin cheer and clap
As he takes a victory lap.
When Trump says he doesn't believe
Our intelligence agents here
But eagerly accepts whatever
Putin tells him, one thing's clear:
Trump is willing to cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap.
When Russia starts a conspiracy theory
And blames Ukraine for election meddling,
Many Trumplicans here believe
The devious lies that the Kremlin is peddling.
How can Americans cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap?
When Trump speaks with the president
Of Ukraine and crudely tries to extort
Favors from the Ukrainians
And threatens to pull U.S. support,
Putin supporters cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap.
As here we see a chilling loss
Of democratic values, we
Will ask ourselves whatever happened
To hope and opportunity.
Who then will cheer and clap
As Putin takes a victory lap?
-by Bob B (12-12-19)
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 9:28 AM UTC
Son of a Snitch
My daddy was an informer to the FBI,
got caught selling drugs to this undercover guy,
his only recourse was to tell what he knew,
but people found out and gave him the *****
they even took it out on me, I'm Mitch,
and rubbed it in my face, call me son-of-a-snitch
came home from work the other day,
looked for my ******* and my can of starch spray,
magazine was gone could not find it at all,
I said hey, who took my friggin book off the wall,
wife looked at me and with nary a hitch,
she said why you ask me you son-of-a-snitch
went to the super to get me some cheese,
beans and beer and bread if you please,
wanted a streak but the cost was to high,
asked man behind counter I say hey old guy,
why this price so high is this some glitch,
he say don't ask me you son-of-a-snitch
everywhere I go I get the same old crap,
a punch in the gut, a facefull of slap,
just because daddy bought his way out of debt,
this is the kind of treatment I always get,
I plead my case give it my best pitch,
quit that whining you son-of-a-snitch
Gomer LePoet...
Apr 15, 2010
Apr 15, 2010 at 7:51 PM UTC
Motel moons, left of face
In room 12, a thing named Grace
She's missing ***** & he's missing eggs-
Band-Aids on the neck
Royal Hawaiian
Big Ad's A-Flyin' (Bye!)
Cowboys in black dusters
And aliens in track suits
Drinking coffee with the common man
Blue-hooded and faceless, walks by again
Third-reel-real headshot,
Kept as a souvenir by an FBI actor
A man can do a lot with his chin
Uncle Sam's tonic & gin
Not made to be an Earthling
Not fit to be an alien
Stars are flickering lights
On Big Empty nights
Three days in the desert
Minus pie sauce in the sky
What's in the blue suitcase?
Why the blue bowling shoes to get to that place?
"Just get on the bus, Gus...
... And get yourself free"
Blue-sky clouds on black
Whipped cream & jack
The United States of Aliens
And a Person in a circle
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:19 PM UTC
don't fall for their tales,
their trapping words
intended to capture all manner of
literary loving girls...
while they, these mopoets^ are perfectly content
to keep on looking
"for the perfect one..."
to write about,
the greatest love affair in all of
his-story
but only after getting first
a close dose of,
a teeming taste of<
her
*"inspiration"
He tells them that
after the first date,
he'll go home thinking:
"I could drink a case of you"
but usually but a glass,
at most,
a bottle, a month,
a satisfactory suffice,
and it's onto the next write
that's why the FBI labelled him,
a dangerous serial poet,
his mot
to be trusted,
not, no, no...no!
Ah men! Ah poets!
somebody should pass a law....
4:03am
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
Dearest jewels of my crown motherhood
Go to the nearest FBI office
Accuse all you call friends of a hate crime drugging you without you knowing to make you feel **** and think you are nuts hallucinogens and methamphetamine s do that
Do not go to psychiatrist they will trash you
your Mom and remove your parental rights forever a Susan and Arthur and Elizabeth already bought you from Haralsmbios a human trafficking psychopath sadist torturer like kiriaki and many more in Greece
Those you trust here in USA hide Crimes they are a team of murderers and thieves since 1980
They assimilated Jeff and John through drugs
Free yourselves.
They all are your deadly enemies they document all lies half truths use assassination of character and fear of your Mom to hide their crimes
They are who lie divide you and plan to ****** your Mom too for financial gain.
They made credit cards with your name in it to finance murders for hire ..
And tell you it's Mom buying thousands of dollars in clothes that's a lie from Satan
They are black mailing you.
to extort money to **** Mom.
~~
Remove your blind folds fight for your freedom take your children run to FBI office use me as a living witness I am on your side.
I love you all my children.
~~
~My Story poem.~
The greatest deception is calling everyone
a friend
Today I admit that from ancient times
am blessed to have had his intimate
piece of heart
thus my life was worth while.
I declare that even here
I was blessed with this
Outer Limits De-Javus;
~~
I am forever a grateful Mom,
granted to sacrifice my
love, my life along with everyone
I ever loved the most.
There's still justice to be granted; triumph waived
with defeat acknowledged.
Not only have I waived and yielded to every misfortune
but was trashed to the eleven winds as my evil enemy
lied to divide me among my dearly beloved offspring
planning as in above the law to profit from my demise.
~~~
By: Karijinbba
All Rights Reserved.
Jun 10, 2023
Jun 10, 2023 at 1:32 AM UTC
Telephone scams are driving me crazy--
Both on my landline and on my cell!
I'm on the verge of telling every
Pesky caller to go to hell!
The IRS is after me.
Oh, the message sounds so dire.
The person says I'd better respond
Or I will be in big trouble. Liar!
Or a recording tells me that my
Router has been hacked, and so
If I don't call them right away,
They'll shut my router down. Oh, no!
A caller claims he's from HP
And says that they know for sure
That my computer has a virus.
I want to say he's full of manure.
Another swears he's calling from
The FBI, demanding money
Because I'm being investigated.
I must pay, or else! Funny!
Because you've managed to make our lives
So miserable, scammers, I swear:
There has to be a special place
In hell for you. You'd better beware!
-by Bob B (8-23-18)
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:15 PM UTC
In my dream
I walked down the street in the dark
Sirens rung in my ear
Police lights flashed
I flicked up my badge and showed it to an FBI agent
I went past the yellow tape surrounding the crime scene
I looked at my partner
he stared grimly at the victim
wrapped in a black garbage bag
with trauma to the left temporal bone
The skull suggested female
about 31 years of age
the rotting of the bones suggested dead for about 5 weeks
I looked away quickly
after noticing the wound to the abdomen
showing there was fowl play
I hated these kinds of cases
but I knew they needed to be solved
I walked back to our car
My partner told the FBI where to send the remains
We headed home tonight
waiting for an anxious day of discovering the victim
and the murderer
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC
She chose to sit in the driver's seat
Marzieh Hashemi isn't afraid of the smoldering heat
nor is she like the rest that one should try to beat
Like a butterfly in the mountain's wind
she'll pick up speed and bounce to the end
and help those around her confidently amend
Insightful, optimistic, she'll make you think
distracted by her intelligence, you'll feel no need to blink
on a gathering day, she looked beautiful in pink
Safety, cheer, and comfort were well dished out
to more than her own, a Mother for all to draw to and pout
Our unforgettable journey is Marzieh Hashemi, an icon of strength to plead about
By: Najwa Kareem
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 9:45 AM UTC
America needs a poor, ***** mother for president.
We need a Muslim for vice president and a feminist to lead the army.
America needs a homeless man with no health insurance and AIDS to allocate food stamps,
gays to run the senate, and lesbians to run the house.
America needs a president who’s been shot at,
*****
and ****** on his whole life.
A person who has held their dying child,
losing a battle that cancer has already won,
buried up to the knees hospital bills.
America should be run by a person that wakes up every morning with no heat or air conditioner.
Who has fought in a war,
shakes in the night,
and lives on minimum wage.
Someone who takes the bus, the subway, and owns one pair of sneakers,
There is no time or money for anything else.
We need an inner city teacher for president.
Someone who spends 4 hours on Sundays preaching for president,
Just to go home and put on his wife's dress.
America needs a straight talker and a street walker to head the FBI.
An illegal for the CIA,
And a transgender for the DOJ.
But that will never happen.
What I have realized is that there is no longer a distinction between what is right, and what is real.
Real, is a leader is one that has been to the free clinic,
waited in line at the DMV,
and buys clothes from Walmart.
Real, is a president that is no stranger to violence.
A vice president who has been to county.
That has been fed jail food,
strip searched,
and wasted years that they will never get back.
We, the people do not fly around in private jets,
Puffing on Cuban cigars.
We, the people do not solely consist of old, rich men,
Making decisions for young, poor women.
Telling us what we can and can’t do.
Who we can and can’t love.
Widening the gap between the haves and haves nots.
We the people know hard work,
We know blood,
We know sweat,
We know tears,
But what we do not know,
Is how to engage ourselves in the goings on in the world around us.
Take responsibility,
hold your own,
and question everything.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
Where, then, do I apply for bribery?
Russians are everywhere here, we are told
So why aren’t those nefarious oligarchs
Flinging dollars and dachas at poor me?
And the Chinese, poking and hacking about
(My last water bill was in Mandarin)
Have yet to pad my secret bank account
Or park a Porsche on my patio
But if they will…
I want to spy for the cool FBI
And party away with the CIA
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC
My tummy box is broken
Said the man to the spoon
******** rhymings
To satisfy good tidings
Fake smiles to satisfy
Good people
Satisfied with what I make
Dissatisfied with what I take
Broken satisfaction
A one-man factioned
We all suffer from
Insecurities
So take what’s best of me.
I seem to be the worst at what I do.
Can I visit weekly? Is that cool by You?
I can make a fool of myself at least once a week.
Can you turn so I can smack Your other cheek?
4th wall broken, here’s a token of my gratitude.
I play the fool for a feeling that’s earthly
Wait with baited breath, I’m almost done.
FBI shopping, lets find a bomb to blow.
Legalize this to make me okay with it.
Let’s party it up to make me feel better.
A good grind to get my mind off things.
Opposing the opposable
Folding to the foldable
All I am seems worthless
All I am seems ridiculous.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
The letter puzzle.
You find these days you have a puzzle if you need help.
You have the FBI, CIA, NSA, HHS, DEA.
You have DSS NAACP NBA NFL NBA NHL
If you don't have a book to see what each one stands for.
You're *******
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
1
Well, I've dated a few guys, sure -
you know, being Ms Hyphen
I'm sociable, like to bring people together
that sort of thing
So I dated that guy Exclamation Mark
and what the hell, he was shouting all the time!
He's just too excitable, not my type
Sure, Comma was more sedate
but a little too slow for me, you know
So I gave guys like Inverted Commas and Parenthesis
a try - but hell, they were always trying to frame me
So I like said to myself, maybe I'll try someone else
from the Mark family, and woooh! - this guy
was like questioning me all through dinner
and I was like thinking to myself:
*What's with this guy? Where does he work?
At the NSA or FBI or what?*
I guess you know who I'm talking about
Well, I dated all the other guys too
like Semi-Colon and then Colon
but you know, one liked to separate;
and the other was always out
with his smartphone
listing things I said
2
So I nearly gave up dating when I thought -
*Hey what about Dash?
That's a dashing fellow surely
and he seems to be just like me*
(except he is - as is apt for a guy - long)
but he was just like Semi-Colon -
always separating people
You got to bring people together
in this world, you know;
that's what this world needs
Yes, I dated Full Stop too
but he was always getting me to stop
and besides, he said his alias was Period -
now that freaked me out, you know
*Hey, what kind of guy walks around
with a name like Period?*
I'll tell you like who's the worst guy to date, OK -
that's Apostrophe:
O listen darling, was he ever so possessive!
3
Well, I'll give my dating career a break -
maybe come next year,
I might try dating 2nd of February
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
Suspicious milk
There when I got home
In a tub
Surrounded by water
Or milk blood
Ostracised from the fridge
Left alone to die
Why?
Did you commit milk atrocities?
****** innocent milk bottles?
Or maybe you're a secret agent
The names skimmed
Semi-skimmed
He's like the FBI in your fridge!
He's like the CIA on your cereal!
He's like the MI5 for your cookies!
Did you get all that
Full fat?
After those Oreos!
With their twisting
Licking
Dunking
Dunking their souls into the blood of our young
Or maybe not
Cow juice, alone on the breakfast bar
Not that far
Milk on the sill, defrosting.
Watching.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
The FBI chief, Mr. Comey,
was loved by Trump like his best *****
For he went around hintin'
about emails and Clinton,
making Trump fans excited and foamy.
But then Comey provided reflection
upon Trump aides and Russian connection.
Trump did protest and howl,
stamp his feet and cry foul,
for the tide has turned since the election.
Trump thinks Comey is guilty of slander,
though his Hillary probe raised no dander.
So I guess Trump's excuse
is what's good for the goose
simply does not apply to the gander!
So why Donald Trump am I hounding
through this verse and this poetic pounding?
It's Trump's hypocrisy
that so motivates me
and we're used to it!... That's what's astounding!
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 10:42 PM UTC