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jason galt Dec 2015
Ah, so she’s
Got that mincemeat
Mumbo jumbo
Going on
The Biloxi banality
That girl knows the proper way to get toasted
I’ve seen those types tapping their toes
In blues house **-downs
But this little Mississippi mugger
She must have made off proper
Skinned to the bone
I got no money no more
Cash strapped and wallet gone
****** if I didn’t get taken
By a Podunk prom queen
You gotta watch for them mudslingers
*****, sly and mean
Yenson Oct 2021
The entrepreneurs of the Casinos sits in luxuries
reeking in the readies
be it not for them to judge
if the mugs want to gamble who are we to talk

The talentless Wasters join inadequate and retards
hiding in rampages
be it not for them to judge
the proclivities of moronism are attestations to status

The innocent sits in truth amid thieves and mudslingers
conscience untroubled
be it not for who to judge
virtue is its own reward and vengeance is of the Almighty

The fools will sizzle and cavort in foolish this and that
legacies of mindlessness
be it not for them to judge
Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish for blinds sees not
Wisdom cannot be imparted
be it not for me to judge
The foolish and the dead alone never change their opinions.
Yenson Jun 2021
The Karens and their eunuchs
all hail in unholy communion in shallow crypts
incanting the ethos of their graceless union
Thou shalt not live with Truth

From the Hopeless Hospice of Dumb minds
the Red ***** toss deader ideas
and escape to join the craven march
of Limeys preaching for their birth rights

The Fagin's Alchemist dost announced
that yonder Moor has taken our riches
Toy town is awakened the Reds are on keystone duties
flying monkeys everywhere hunting for alchemists' fools gold

We shall do his head in and **** him up
Karens  ****** of deceits and bitter angsts all frothing in slime
baying mudslingers with deadly aims in frenzied *******
in wanton throes they relive memories of the thrusts of Moor's sword

Tis the season of deer stalking and the Fools Ball
madness has freely poured all a heady toxic brew so drink till drunk
the pale oracle sees broken heart pain suffering and a broken Moor
and
we all wonder why the Managers of the Top three English footy Teams are all Foreigners
A satire about Covid written from a hospital bed by a dear friend. She was just recovering from  Anesthetics when she wrote this, she assures me its all about a dream she had while under.
Yenson Apr 2020
I get ME from A to Z
so, how can you who's still trying
to learn A B C
from Western Taliban Teachers
who thinks they are Oliver Cromwell's
and in modern day Britain
sees King in normal man
and spend invaluable time
plotting revenge and beheading
go on, tell me how you think
you can advise me
or heed anything you say or do

Do I live with you
in Cloud Coco Land
where your brains has frosted with the chills
and you believe that I'll leave a woman I really want
and sit around waiting eating cheap chocolates
or worry about my height though I have a mighty sword
or believe I have a horse head when I know you are all blind
or sit guarding possessions that do not define me
did lin and lisa see any shingles while gobbling away
go say your **** to your skid marks
cause I know I am scrupulously clean

I get ME from A to Z
all i see from the aggrieved unwashed
is that mudslingers have ***** hands and ***** minds
now I know faceless cowards are faceless cowards
projecting their inadequacies terrified of exposure
pedos and perverts talking about love
crooks, thieves and charlatans preaching democracy
demented Western Taliban's on ******* crusades
anchoring their shame and disgrace on the innocent
the ragged rabbles, our modern day Cromwellites
the sad laughable obsessive sickos
Neo-Croms are stalking the land: these are the new Cromwellites who want to deprive society of all beauty, joy, rite and ritual.

— The End —