Open the gate and let us enter,
Or we’ll wrench the lock and kick down the door.
If it doesn’t drop, we’ll sledgehammer through
Forcing our way into your homes.
And bring up the dead to eat the living –
And the dead will outnumber the living.

We demand the precious ring عيسى بن مريم
Now show us the secret place:
We bomb the fiery doors of Hell –
Our slain disturbed they rise again.
Sleepers awoken from their beds.
They sing for the dust gave up it’s dead.

The whipping spur of mercenaries greed,
Roaming, ******, take souls for the cause –
Casually pledge for the Leader’s sake
Whole heart and mind was taken –
They stroked, caressed and kissed her.
Marked men turned into wolves.

Now woe to whom you honoured!
The fickle god paid you back cruelly.
Passing you by as a cheating lover,
As if fairy tales can be heard.
He guided you from above the sky?
It’s fallen in and you pay dearly

Enslaved by things of worldly nature,
Your vigour was lost, vision unsightly,
Now history’s gone, snared –
The traps you fell into laid,
Manufactured by slick rulers,
Your nobles are now lying down.

Sandy graves have been prepared,
Rows of seven, Jannah, Heaven,
For proud in battle we never falter,
Whips flashing and blades to the ready
Hear AK-47s shooting idly
And dare you not squeal:

“My brother, do not let me perish!”
For this day the vocals of our song
Smother the kaffirs weeping
Women lamenting sacrificed children,
Slapping their faces because
The dead will rise and inhale the stench.

Are you sleeping paupers of the globe;
Rich folk feast yet you are fasting.
Who is there to help on these wretched streets?
There is no relief. The wound is incurable.
Some around the world hear and rejoice,
For this evil is transmitted continually.

Open the gate and let us enter,
Or we’ll wrench the lock and kick down the door,
If it doesn’t drop, we sledgehammer through
Forcing our way into your homes.
And bring up the dead to eat the living –
And the dead will outnumber the living.

Hugo was from Tucson, Arizona. Sheila was from Cullman, Alabama. By the end of this story they will be lovers. Sheila was 4 feet tall with short limbs. Hugo was the same height. He didn't play basketball with kaffirs because of the height & skin advantages they had. Sheila mingled with woogies, but only the .000002% who didn't play basketball. She also regretted several bad experiences with Bill Cosby. Hugo and Sheila met at a basketball game between Tucson & Cullman. It was a close shave but the stubble stopped at her handsome ***** and if she would ever be ready for public ****** the time had come. Violently, like O.J. Simpson & Bill Cosby would, she tore off her underpants. Three safety-fearing cops beat her savagely with back-jack clubs after handcuffing her. On the way to the police station pepper spray & tasers were used. Hugo decided to look elsewhere for a new girlfriend. Who needs a ******? With a ****** your head and feet touch nothing unless you're a ****** too. Who has time for that? Normal women are better. After jail Sheila decided to have ****** relations with Hugo.
   Every mustache hair on Sheila's face quivered beneath Hugo's touch. His large ****** hands touched her ****** parts gingerly sending shock-waves of desire through her miniature body. Let's see a full-sized man try Hugo's midgety-fidgedy tricks and get the same results. Midgets know midgets and Hugo was really good at pleasing ****** women. Sheila too knew the difference between normal men and ****** men like a doctor can tell meningitis and **** warts apart. Sheila manipulated Hugo to the ******-sized bed so it would be easier to fill the night with unspeakable acts of ****** ****** relations.
   Sheila wanted to be a jet pilot so she contacted jet-pilot school. She was insulted when the teacher told her to sit mid jet till all the students boarded.
   Sheila warns: “Never use automobile motor oil as a ******-thermometer lubricant. Never substitute ******-thermometer lubricant for automobile motor oil in your car.”
   Sheila advises: “Open-chest heart massage is a must for dogs that have no pulse. Use a sharp object (nail file, can lid, glass shard, etc.) to open chest. Spread ribs. Massage heart. Once the heart resumes beating: arrange ribs into proper alignment and close the chest wound with thread, yarn, shoe lace, fishing line or wire.”
   Hugo was engaged to wed Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire and all London was buzzing. “We have something special,” Sheila observed. “We have a love that only midgets and people with meningitis complicated by **** warts can understand.” Hugo was sullen. He loved Sheila a lot but he loved Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire a lot too. But it's wrong to love two women and yes a ****** counts as one woman.
    Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire was sheltered by the luxurious life that manor-born people live so she had no clue what meningitis complicated by **** warts was.

Hugo was from Tucson, Arizona. Sheila was from Cullman, Alabama. By the end of this story they will be lovers. Sheila was 4 feet tall with short limbs. Hugo was the same height. He didn't play basketball with kaffirs because of the height & skin advantages they had. Sheila mingled with woogies, but only the .000002% who didn't play basketball. She also regretted several bad experiences with Bill Cosby. Hugo and Sheila met at a basketball game between Tucson & Cullman. It was a close shave but the stubble stopped at her handsome ***** and if she would ever be ready for public ****** the time had come. Violently, like O.J. Simpson & Bill Cosby would, she tore off her underpants. Three safety-fearing cops beat her savagely with back-jack clubs after handcuffing her. On the way to the police station pepper spray & tasers were used. Hugo decided to look elsewhere for a new girlfriend. Who needs a ******? With a ****** your head and feet touch nothing unless you're a ****** too. Who has time for that? Normal women are better. After jail Sheila decided to have ****** relations with Hugo.
   Every mustache hair on Sheila's face quivered beneath Hugo's touch. His large ****** hands touched her ****** parts gingerly sending shock-waves of desire through her miniature body. Let's see a full-sized man try Hugo's midgety-fidgedy tricks and get the same results. Midgets know midgets and Hugo was really good at pleasing ****** women. Sheila too knew the difference between normal men and ****** men like a doctor can tell meningitis and **** warts apart. Sheila manipulated Hugo to the ******-sized bed so it would be easier to fill the night with unspeakable acts of ****** ****** relations.
   Sheila wanted to be a jet pilot so she contacted jet-pilot school. She was insulted when the teacher told her to sit mid jet till all the students boarded.
   Sheila warns: “Never use automobile motor oil as a ******-thermometer lubricant. Never substitute ******-thermometer lubricant for automobile motor oil in your car.”
   Sheila advises: “Open-chest heart massage is a must for dogs that have no pulse. Use a sharp object (nail file, can lid, glass shard, etc.) to open chest. Spread ribs. Massage heart. Once the heart resumes beating: arrange ribs into proper alignment and close the chest wound with thread, yarn, shoe lace, fishing line or wire.”
   Hugo was engaged to wed Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire and all London was buzzing. “We have something special,” Sheila observed. “We have a love that only midgets and people with meningitis complicated by **** warts can understand.” Hugo was sullen. He loved Sheila a lot but he loved Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire a lot too. But it's wrong to love two women and yes a ****** counts as one woman.
    Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire was sheltered by the luxurious life that manor-born people live so she had no clue what meningitis complicated by **** warts was.

The African National Congress defeats the ends of justice in spades
by spreading that affliction lovingly known by commies as A.I.D.S.
& by ruining mining, farming, the power grid & specialized trades,
jacking sassy with kaffirs by playing deaf—dumb—blind charades
to finance 1 pilgrim's progression from stolen, filthy rags to riches,
after cheering his tropospheric ascension from arid hags to *******,
with belt-lacking-penitentiary-underpants-revealing sags in britches

The African National Congress defeats the ends of justice in spades
by spreading that affliction lovingly known by commies as A.I.D.S.
& by ruining mining, farming, the power grid & specialized trades,
jacking sassy with kaffirs by playing deaf—dumb—blind charades
to finance 1 pilgrim's progression from stolen, filthy rags to riches,
after cheering his tropospheric ascension from arid hags to *******,
with belt-lacking-penitentiary-underpants-revealing sags in britches

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Here on 2 limbs hobbles a 110-year-old pervert, Kirk Douglas, who
fugged fugging Marilyn Monroe fugless like 1 Aussie **** Kug lass
***** it tightly, sweet, slutty ***** in a perch from the lowest mast
with the queer **** who kicked in your teeth after you back-sassed
a family ******, I meant therapist, 47 centuries ago in the recent past
whilst kaffirs sold for a displaced value & **** got 'em lynched fast
as slaves were replacement-ready when white girls got them gassed
as ******* were placed steady when pink-titted girls had 'em gassed
as slaves were replaced already 'cause **** broads got them gassed
'cause any way you mounted it the leg-breakers struck a broken cast
from short shards of a super speedway's superficial asphaltical blast
that bombed big red dog Clifford's **** ½ so big as the 1 before last
so as to cover civilized folks & render traditional gay queers aghast
at the sick **** rumblings of organized colon-clutterer Thomas Nast
& his merrie band of coolies & ne're-do-wells routinely out-classed
dead Charles W. Fairbanks, his nephropathy & deeds done ½-assed
in 1909 when Wales appeared, to ****** ***** on dope, tall & vast
& open to the dirt-bag raunchiest, slickest, iconoclastical iconoclast
whose morganatical marriage meant zero to Cymru lepers harassed
by what ****-****-licking/puking anti-popes did for embarrassment
in the Vatican's most x-pope steady, paederastically-cozy apartment
that was no-less bigger than the *******-******-ghetto compartment
where it was ebonically-taught what the worst navy-bean **** meant
after eating obese Santa's guts before the final Christmas card's sent
Tick them off, each one's deader than the other for keeps like butter
***-spread 'cross lower labial lips that spit, sprawl, sputter & stutter
in the gray-cancer corpse cream cheese of Laura & Isaac Perlmutter
living the lives of 439 felonious fugitives in pig-****-garbage clutter
I was tossin' large rocks at myself when a large rock struck my face
bashin' in my nose to make me look like I was from an inferior race
I was lucky to have my passport if questioned by whites just in case
I was throwin' rocks at myself when a big one struck me in my face
smashing my nose to make me look like I was from an inferior race
I held a new passport, if white officials wanted to see it, just in case
I was droppin' big rocks on myself when big rocks crushed my face
widenin' my Caucasoid nose like an ugly pig of an undesirable race
I needed a good passport, if white officers demanded it, just in case
I was killin' myself with boulders when 1 race-mixed my ***** race
bashin' in my nose to make me look like I had an inferior **** face
I possessed a valid passport, if white cops demanded it, just in case
flattening my nose to make me look as if I was from a Mongol race
I possessed a valid visa, if white pigs demanded 1, & a can of mace
because even with a **** nose I could flee Vietnam without a trace
with leprous tourists, spastically limping to an unknown someplace
far from the rigors of a religiously-generous-bombed-out home base
queerly accented in wool hung crêpe & whitework embroidery lace
that trails down downed trails florid in flower for a perfumed chase
over a broken crutch mountain to ******* cripples via bracing brace
that holds Big Bertha beyond Elton John's pacemaker's stodgy pace
as excitement builds when 2 ****-buddies present Elton with a vase
that allows Big Bertha to under-pace Elton John's pacemaker's pace
as excitement builds when a ****-buddy shoves up into Elton a vase

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Give me your hirsute/textile/hombre love you lovely hairy rag man,
with your pointy nose, unlimbered leg & warts from Larry Hagman
who from the horse's mountable side snuck up like an airy stag ram
Don't take what little's left via state Santa Christmas merry bag ban
Let's dress like women in debt at the oldest Chuck Berry drag stand
My happiness is easily seen in blood-letting cirques as corpuscular
while my rippling backwards frontage is of a physique so muscular
that it is known by fat aunt Joan as socked-in and highly avuncular
In icy Florida I pine for Klondike my favorite Alaskan lesbian lover
who, in our gay igloo, resembled that big oily ****** Danny Glover

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Refugees flee what's so repressively dangerous that it's forever fled
The bloodied blood biz passes pathogens to bleeders bloodily bled
It is a dreadful situation that ****** folks find difficult not to dread
A gent is obliged to face conflict face first short of living in a shed,
plying the rough trade, rough-necking with ******* or playing dead
When my cruddy teeth are encrusted I brush the crud off with Crest
while working drainward with this golden cake of soap called Zest
Like a woman on public assistance I refuse to let my choppers rest
There was a time when talk of quiz was a precursor to an Iowa test
My basic skills are determinedly under-cutting my housewife guest
whose stems run north to her malignant tissue free mammae breast
In movies shooting orphans with high-powered rifles is done in jest
'cause in Amerika making ammunition is what wage-slaves do best

So, I murdered a sonnet,
closed him up in a bonnet and left
him to charge me of ****** in 14 lines.
Well it was the length of his words against mine!!!
I shot him with an illegal firearm that
I always used to clothe my arm before I
slaughtered pages,
his shadow was always clothed in suits,
yet his existence so meaningless,
a privileged vocabulary,
well he couldn't fit into the ghetto,
the expressions that reeked blood,
the metaphors that hid black dead slaves,
the rhymes that had discords because a lot
of voices spoke,
I could not imprison those stories in
those white lies,
sorry I mean 14 lines.
I designed his corpse in a body bag,
recited his obituary on poetry stages whilst
my black toes knocked the ground,
nervousness,
the lies enveloped within his lies,
he spoke of bedbugs, Romeos and Juliets,
thus and thus,
I stopped, for his truth was attributed with grotesque lies.

So, I tried to bleach my eyes,
just to try and see the color of his reality,
I tried to express his stories,
but he kept calling my people Othello’s cousins,
he categorized them as kaffirs,
he spoke of thanksgiving, but my lips
shaded with melanin bit themselves because I kept wondering
what my black folks would thank anyone for,
they have been taught to
hang from strong lines that hug their throats,
painted on headlines with RIP hashtags,
so, if a Poet like me would spice up their obituaries with
punchlines maybe they would use
those lines to charm St Peters at Heaven's gates.
I feel like our ancestors have sold us to
death on the other side.
I have grown tired of plucking dreams from
buried graves at feared cemeteries,
speaking to tombstones that are support structures to
dry roses, wilted lilies,
blooming thorns,
so, would you blame me for murdering
a 14-line year old *******,
Shakespeare's child.
So, justify me in the Poetry court of
elite critiques.
By the way I plucked Mr. Sonnet's *******,
they were too pointy,
I think he was too ***** to be a Poem...

I cut his blonde hair,
and it’s now a mop for my bathroom mess,
I forgot to feed him his own ******,
maybe he would've understood what kind of
seeds he fed to these dead Poets societies.

So, I guess I'm already guilty
to some Jury poetry group,
so please sentence me to fourteen lines
behind poetry bars,
maybe I'll come out rehabilitated of my ghetto
lines, or sit me on electric chairs,
guess what, those have become our thrones,
no one notices our pride,
no one sees our poetry lines as power lines,
we cannot even feed our families with these
words,
we were born as street poets,
pirates of the pages,
the ones who hold pens beside pistols,
stop signs and zebra lines don't
really stop us from reaching the
Shangri-Las and Nirvanas of street word.

So, I killed a Sonnet and
buried him in my head's bonnet,
no guilt though,
but he's always behind every thought I embrace,
behind my head!!!
#RIP...... hope they write about you
wherever you are...
Ciao!!!

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉) ✅✅✅✅✅
✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅

Here on 2 limbs hobbles a 110-year-old pervert, Kirk Douglas, who
fugged fugging Marilyn Monroe fugless like 1 Aussie **** Kug lass
***** it tightly, sweet, slutty ***** in a perch from the lowest mast
with the queer **** who kicked in your teeth after you back-sassed
a family ******, I meant therapist, 47 centuries ago in the recent past
whilst kaffirs sold for a displaced value & **** got 'em lynched fast
as slaves were replacement-ready when white girls got them gassed
as ******* were placed steady when pink-titted girls had 'em gassed
as slaves were replaced already 'cause **** broads got them gassed
'cause any way you mounted it the leg-breakers struck a broken cast



( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Give me your hirsute/textile/hombre love you lovely hairy rag man,
with your pointy nose, unlimbered leg & warts from Larry Hagman
who from the horse's mountable side snuck up like an airy stag ram
Don't take what little's left via state Santa Christmas merry bag ban
Let's dress like women in debt at the oldest Chuck Berry drag stand
My happiness is easily seen in blood-letting cirques as corpuscular
while my rippling backwards frontage is of a physique so muscular
that it is known by fat aunt Joan as socked-in and highly avuncular
In icy Florida I pine for Klondike my favorite Alaskan lesbian lover
who, in our gay igloo, resembled that big oily ****** Danny Glover


( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Refugees flee what's so repressively dangerous that it's forever fled
The bloodied blood biz passes pathogens to bleeders bloodily bled
It is a dreadful situation that ****** folks find difficult not to dread
A gent is obliged to face conflict face first short of living in a shed,
plying the rough trade, rough-necking with ******* or playing dead
When my cruddy teeth are encrusted I brush the crud off with Crest
while working drainward with this golden cake of soap called Zest
Like a woman on public assistance I refuse to let my choppers rest
There was a time when talk of quiz was a precursor to an Iowa test
My basic skills are determinedly under-cutting my housewife guest
whose stems run north to her malignant tissue free mammae breast
In movies shooting orphans with high-powered rifles is done in jest
'cause in Amerika making ammunition is what wage-slaves do best

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Half way through May, again, I anticipate with regularity the June month, as my colon waves in spasms, goose stepping in quick time to June. I should look up old friends, old ****-buddies if I were a homosexual (which I'm not). It seems relaxing to sit when spoken to; to speak from a seat.
   “I assure you,” the waitress said with the tight skirt.
   “That's ****,” I said.
   “What is?” She asked.
   “The word 'assure' because it's got '***' in it,” I said.
   “Even better,” she observed in a tight-*** framing way.
“Titusville, get it? Tight *** Ville?!”
   “Oh yeah. Will you let me measure you against all women?”
   “Sure,” she said. “It's the least that I could do.”
   Panic came upon me like it was 1929.
   “I'd sell everything to be rid of my things.”
   “I hear you,” she said while adjusting her hearing aid.
   “If you'll trust me just once I won't have to
buy a second pregnancy test,” I informed.
   “I will. Besides, in the end, it'll all be
worth it, the ointment – everything.”
   I could see her better because I sat behind her from where
she stood. “I'd **** a million democrats on your say-so,”
said I to get between her ***'s puffy parts.
   “I love you,” she whispered as I gave
her a tip, my tip, just enough to win.    
   “Do you miss me mucho big? Am I not too mucho
macho for you?” I asked very Spanishly.
   “You're **** when you talk wet-back. Are you a wet-back?”
   “No, I'm not a wet-back.”
   “That's good. I don't mind a little grease now and again.”
   “Me too.”
   The temperature was drooping (& dropping) and
I knew that pipes froze at a low temperature.
   “Take off your ****** and let me feed you a taco.”
   “I don't wear underpants.”
   “Me too.”
   That night our waitress/customer relationship
remained whole as I pulled out just enough to win.

► Los chinos dicen: "La vida y la muerte son la provincia de los cielos."

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)     ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)

Here on 2 limbs hobbles a 110-year-old pervert, Kirk Douglas, who
fugged fugging Marilyn Monroe fugless like 1 Aussie **** Kug lass
***** it tightly, sweet, slutty ***** in a perch from the lowest mast
with the queer **** who kicked in your teeth after you back-sassed
a family ******, I meant therapist, 47 centuries ago in the recent past
whilst kaffirs sold for a displaced value & **** got 'em lynched fast
as slaves were replacement-ready when white girls got them gassed
as ******* were placed steady when pink-titted girls had 'em gassed
as slaves were replaced already 'cause **** broads got them gassed
'cause any way you mounted it the leg-breakers struck a broken cast

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)

Here on 2 limbs hobbles a 110-year-old pervert, Kirk Douglas, who
fugged fugging Marilyn Monroe fugless like 1 Aussie **** Kug lass
***** it tightly, sweet, slutty ***** in a perch from the lowest mast
with the queer **** who kicked in your teeth after you back-sassed
a family ******, I meant therapist, 47 centuries ago in the recent past
whilst kaffirs sold for a displaced value & **** got 'em lynched fast
as slaves were replacement-ready when white girls got them gassed
as ******* were placed steady when pink-titted girls had 'em gassed
as slaves were replaced already 'cause **** broads got them gassed
'cause any way you mounted it the leg-breakers struck a broken cast

Hugo was from Tucson, Arizona. Sheila was from Cullman, Alabama. By the end of this story they will be lovers. Sheila was 4 feet tall with short limbs. Hugo was the same height. He didn't play basketball with kaffirs because of the height & skin advantages they had. Sheila mingled with woogies, but only the .000002% who didn't play basketball. She also regretted several bad experiences with Bill Cosby. Hugo and Sheila met at a basketball game between Tucson & Cullman. It was a close shave but the stubble stopped at her handsome ***** and if she would ever be ready for public ****** the time had come. Violently, like O.J. Simpson & Bill Cosby would, she tore off her underpants. Three safety-fearing cops beat her savagely with back-jack clubs after handcuffing her. On the way to the police station pepper spray & tasers were used. Hugo decided to look elsewhere for a new girlfriend. Who needs a ******? With a ****** your head and feet touch nothing unless you're a ****** too. Who has time for that? Normal women are better. After jail Sheila decided to have ****** relations with Hugo.
   Every mustache hair on Sheila's face quivered beneath Hugo's touch. His large ****** hands touched her ****** parts gingerly sending shock-waves of desire through her miniature body. Let's see a full-sized man try Hugo's midgety-fidgedy tricks and get the same results. Midgets know midgets and Hugo was really good at pleasing ****** women. Sheila too knew the difference between normal men and ****** men like a doctor can tell meningitis and **** warts apart. Sheila manipulated Hugo to the ******-sized bed so it would be easier to fill the night with unspeakable acts of ****** ****** relations.
   Sheila wanted to be a jet pilot so she contacted jet-pilot school. She was insulted when the teacher told her to sit mid jet till all the students boarded.
   Sheila warns: “Never use automobile motor oil as a ******-thermometer lubricant. Never substitute ******-thermometer lubricant for automobile motor oil in your car.”
   Sheila advises: “Open-chest heart massage is a must for dogs that have no pulse. Use a sharp object (nail file, can lid, glass shard, etc.) to open chest. Spread ribs. Massage heart. Once the heart resumes beating: arrange ribs into proper alignment and close the chest wound with thread, yarn, shoe lace, fishing line or wire.”
   Hugo was engaged to wed Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire and all London was buzzing. “We have something special,” Sheila observed. “We have a love that only midgets and people with meningitis complicated by **** warts can understand.” Hugo was sullen. He loved Sheila a lot but he loved Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire a lot too. But it's wrong to love two women and yes a ****** counts as one woman.
    Countess Winnifred Hamptonfordshire was sheltered by the luxurious life that manor-born people live so she had no clue what meningitis complicated by **** warts was.