Lincoln green robin
hoodwinking the
greedy rich

Feeding the poor
robin red breast
flaunting credentials
robbing the lady
marion
the little birds of their
flimsy
filmy honor

Little boy little
man-child john
little mowgli
conquering the jungle
conquering the tiger
riding imperious
the stark grey brown elephant

And backscratching bear
sleeping in the greensward
dancing with milady
tucking into supper of
fast arrowed stag

Hung out and dried
between devil trees
and huts afire

Across the brittle
yellow beach into
the deep blue sea

A director general
Ensconcing on WHO’s chair
As a hoodwinking trick
You cry foul
“The case in Ethiopia
Is horrific !”
You must be mentally sick!
Have you forgotten
It is high time
You be thrown
In to prison?
For involving
In embezzlement
Terrorism, genocide
And treason.
So a wolf
In a sheep’s skin
To give a statement
You have no reason.

WHO must be weak
For being tardy
From office
Out you to kick.

It is really
A mockery of justice
A parliament-
wanted terrorist
Like you
Gives lecture
On humanitarian issue
Accountability to resist,
Or are you acting so
Rest assured
Self-seeking hypocrites
The likes of you
Are ready to assist!///

the guy from North Carolina*
and his Ohio
CHICK
teamed up together to create
a deceptive
TRICK

dubiously they presented their ruse
on the poetry
SITE
by conjuring several personas
for posting a
WRITE  

this subterfuge was supposed to be
a secret at
HP
but they'd not bargained on the poets
who had
ESP

the wayward pair did excel  
in cunning
CHARADES   
taking other penners on
such beguiling
ESCAPADES

ploys aplenty
clever
HOODWINKING  
a fishy smell rather
offish and so
*STINKING

Cognizant that to
Crosschecking, the credulous
May not pay serious attention,
WHO’s Director General
Abusing your position,
As a hoodwinking trick
Tears trickling down
Each of your cheek
I saw you expressing
A cooked up idea,
An interviewee,
On a so called
Reputed media.
A reputed media
Ironically and terribly
A probing knack
That does lack.
To media weak
Unwilling
To cross examine
Whether the whole
Truth you speak.
“Why your likes—
Terrorists TPLF juntas—
Fired rockets
To a neighboring state
Intent a terror to create?
Why you did the same
On Eritrea
To create
In East Africa hysteria?

“Why in Mia kadra
Your likes
—Genocide perpetrators—
Massacring the feeble
And unarmed civilians
With a machete
Expressed to what extent
The Amhara race
You hate.”
“Why your likes
—traitors—at
The Ethio-Eriteria border
You stabbed in the back many
A national army member
In the back,
Worse waiting till
It gets pitch dark?
Salivating for arsenals
Must you
Your siblings attack?
Is it to invite
Self-defending soldiers
From the border’s other side?
Or is it running amok
To enjoy in Eretria a free ride?
Now playacting a victim
Why you try the truth
To hide?”

“Why the likes of you
—lechers—
For about 3 decades
You bled
The country dry,
Forcing millions
Lamenting their fate
With empty stomach die?
Why including those who
Hail from your ethnic
Background, on safetynet
Leaned for existence to date?

I wonder how now
You dare
To show affectation
Humanitarian issue
In Tigray is in
Your radar of care?

With
Laundered dollars,
Abroad, stashed away
Lavishly dishonest journalists
You buy as it isn’t hard
To get such guys today.
A spoiled brat
Mercenaries you hunt.

Now, barefacedly
Must you cry?
“ ‘Doves are my
Likes and I
How failed you
To pity us? Why?’
Akin a crocodile
Loud you cry?”

“Why atavism of
All-brand
The likes of you—
Mafias— spread
Throughout the land.
While the blood
Of the innocent is
Fresh on your hand,
You dream how
For reinstating
The despotic regime
Another chance
You could stand?

“Why mentally sick
The likes of you—
Colonial legacy mongers,
Vanguards of common wealth
White supremacists –
Disgustingly ingratiate
In a way
Unheard of to date
Ready to receive
And A to Z execute
What they dictate?
And to historic enemies
A hand you lend
A sign moral-wise
You are clinically dead.

“Why the likes of you—
Political thugs—
**** was your
Characteristic feature?
Mr. Director General
To spice the interview
Leave not
Your ****** exploits
That you most remember.
Of course, tell us you can,
While in power
How many
**** victims’ demonstration
In Mekle
You and your friends
Conspired to ban.
Yes **** is a
Worst crime
But registered weres
Many such offences
In your time.

Yours ,sham media
And dishonest lobbyists
Unholy marriage
Provokes the
Innocents’ rage! ///

Up high, high up,
everything seemed tiny and mute
the thrill of it did not fool,
for soon, and sooner by the second,
a landing was imminent.

It could have worked, you know,
the fleeting ecstacy of the carefree.
The illusory warmth of comfort and no tomorrow
It could have deceived, pleasantly.

Sorry the rosy picture of thoughtfulness
mature sense of responsibility
Laudable accountability
could not have been more misleading
To paint it thus.

The circumstance was too severe,
there was no mistaking reality for as long as a second.
Death was too close at hand,
Living dead, no less.

Away with consolation
Away with wishful thinking
Away with hoodwinking
Awake to life and reality.

Do not love me, if appearance entertains thee;
For they are deceptive like an illusion,
Hoodwinking the multitude with splendor,
But inside the core may lie darkness.

Love me, for thou love me
And let that be the reason of your love.
Close thy eyes and stare at me,
Thou shalt see more attractiveness
Than thou shall ever observe.
If thy adoration be proper and genuine
Mine too…

Beneath the layers of smiles,
deep down,
we hide our real selves.

From lie to lie,
from pretence to pretence,
we camouflage our reality
with the stylish masks we wear,
whilst the monster behind the mask chuckles
hoodwinking a whole generation!

A bruise has appeared―
where you had kissed me,
last night. O Miranda―
I am not going for any other moon.

Like Uranus, I bleed
in my eyes; from every pore.
Astraphobia― I am going to
stay in dark.

This theology of aneurysms?
Who was hoodwinking
the ancient gods in the battle
of murderous themes? My hands
start shaking.

A blue rash spreads.
In honeyed voice you invoke
your angel and seek blessings―
before you go for a ****.

A thick column of smoke rose from the ground.
I could see it just ahead.
Why were all other commuters passing unconcerned?
Ah, not a fire. A birch tree, branches raised to the heavens,
looming dark in the fog, beguiling and hoodwinking an
overactive imagination.

Well stocked with
wordsworth lxiii numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer
while in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes

William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping,
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly styled pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f*'* swear

unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment

understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggy)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live

within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.

"The event [Apollo 11 moonwalk] was so removed, however, so unreal, that no objective correlative existed to prove it had not been an event staged in a television studio—the greatest con of the century—and indeed a good mind, product of the iniquities, treacheries, gold, passions, invention, deception, and rich worldly stink of the Renaissance could hardly deny that the event if bogus was as great a creation in mass hoodwinking, deception, and legerdemain as the true ascent was in discipline and technology. Indeed, conceive of the genius of such a conspiracy. It would take criminals and confidence men mightier, more trustworthy and more resourceful than anything in this century or the ones before. Merely to conceive of such men was the surest way to know the event was not staged."