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The curtain on the
CPAC convocation rolls back,

as the revolution
in Tahrir Square boils.

America’s theater
of deadly political

absurdity commences;
to witness demagogues

recite holy scripture to
evangelize a religion of war.

A heavily invested
audience marvels

at the marionettes
pirouetting on strings

jigged along by hands
of invisible puppet-masters

donning dark masks of
clever 503C llcs

disguised in self serving
hues of red, white and blue.

This grand folly of masquers
conceals a fatal pantomime,

a cast of reactionary characters,
Neo-Conmen auditioning for

the leading role in a lurid play
of a deadly nation projecting
a dying imperial preeminence.

The martinets engage zero
sum games where the victor
belongs to the despoilers,

and the merchants of death
richly confer multimillion dollar
reasons for being, underwriting
the gilded egos of candidates

and their infatuation with the
vanity of feigned power.

These master rhetoricians
skillfully lather up the crowd

by pandering to basest
xenophobic nationalist
instincts and fantasies
of laissez-faire proclivities.  

Slathering on the partisan
pretense in layers so thick

a master chef, armed
with the sharpest Ginsu Knife

couldn't slice a hock tip
of blood red meat

hurled into the crowd of
gobbling Republicons

howling and yodeling
it’s derisive acclaim.

The rankled party line,
gibberish talking points

are hammer blows of
incessant propaganda,

so cocksure that any room for
doubt is crowded out by the

phantasmagorical McMansions
of hyperbole they ***** in

the pliant minds of their
gibbering minions.

The candidates preening for
president show off their

falangist affectations
in eager duels of oratorical

one upmanship; constantly
jockeying to outflank their

other Neo-Conmen opponents,
always concluding their brutish

diatribes with a solemn
denouement of a Republicon

psalm ending with a
Holy Hosanna Hallelujah

to the Ronald Reagan
Heavenly Buddha.

Punchline of the holy Amen
“what would Reagan do?”

to remind the faithful
to remain the faithful

bearers to the fiction
of dead Reaganism.

Evoking anything
Ron and Nancy

induces sanctioned
comportment of a

slow simmering
******* eubellence

providing a welcomed
relief of repressed
libidinal energy.

The mention of Goldwater
sends GOP acolytes to

pause in reverence,
envisioning Barry and

Ronnie looking down
from heaven upon the gathered,

inciting immediate ruminations
of falling dominos and

the viability of a
tactical nuke strike

against Ayatollah’s
underground
uranium factories.

The host of Neo-Conmen,
new age Falangist pitchmen

belch from the dais,
in ever increasing alacrity,

the stirring drum beats
and slick videos,

of glorious warriors
winning the battlefield

with the rippling glory
of the Stars and Stripes

flowing in a continual
loop behind them.

Romney,
Bachmann

Gingrich
take center stage,

goose stepping
to the roll of piercing timpanis.

Words slither
out of their mouths
like poisonous snakes.

Lies, hiss through
their teeth.

Open mouths
expose Black Mamba
fangs, dripping with venom.

Eyes squint
as their reptilian brains

implore the besieged
to flee from the
light of truth.

Seeking refuge in fear;
yet on the ready

to coil and strike;
while trembling

in ignorance,
exalting loathsomeness

worshiping violence;
they remain

poised to unleash
first strike armies;

boastfully evoking moral
platitudes of Bush Doctrine
prerogatives.

Trembling in ignorance
worshiping violence

exalting fear,
these dogs of war bay

to unleash armies
against the

Godless apostates
that threaten

to expose the
stasis of their

Capitalismo-Judeo-Christian
view of the world.

They have hijacked
the great faith traditions

to serve a narrow
political aim

and relish any
opportunity to

demonize Islam
in service to their lies.

Watch as they
they crouch down

on the dais to
open the nest

of vipers welling
deep within the
bowels of their souls.

They find relief
by excreting their

spawn of deadly asps
into the veins of

cable news networks;
scoring political points

with the terrorized
children of Faux News

capturing battalions
of straw men villains

to rise atop meaningless
straw polls.

They agitate for a second
American revolution

by injecting the venom
of fear and lies

into the body
politic.

Ron Paul
stands alone,

perplexed why
American's love

war as much as
they hate civil liberties?

Cheney and
Rumsfeld brood.

The people of
Iraq and Afghanistan

fail to embrace their armies
of liberation that run up

unfortunate collateral damage
body counts required to sustain
the American way of life.

Ever the defender of
democracy and liberty,

Gingrich slams Obama's
condemnation of Suleiman

"hes an able diplomat."
Gingrich  forgot to add

that Suleiman is a
skilled torturer and

an able tyrant any self
serving democracy would
be proud to call ally and friend.

Cheney and Rumsfeld
remain flummoxed.

Their armies of liberation bogged
down in the marshy Blackwaters

of intractability;  trying to solve
the conundrum of the diminished

equity returns of asymmetrical
warfare.  Spinning the math

to justify building aircraft carriers
to **** a gnat.

The families of dead soldiers
surround them and wave dime

store flags hoping the plastic
eagle remains fixed atop the pole.

Perpetually smiling
Michele Bachmann
raises the specter
of Muslim Brotherhoods
taking over Egypt.

The persecution of Christians
and the escalating war on

Christianity have the Crusaders
up on their seats waving Excalibur
once again.

Gingrich pink cheeks
flush with the cash

of a Zionist casino
entrepreneur

doubles down, stacks
his chips high.

“The Israeli Embassy
in Cairo was overrun
by angry mobs.”  

“Is this a precursor of
cancelling the peace treaty
signed with Sadat?”

“The pullout in Iraq hands the country to
radical Shiites effectively handing our
hard won victory to Iran.”

“Israel is threatened and will not
permit Iran to acquire nuclear

weapons. A nuclear empowered Iran
will not stand!”

“We mustn't let do nothing Obama
threaten the safety of our good ally
Israel.”

CPAC willingly holds the deadly asp
to the breast of a proud nation.

Urging, coaxing it to gently sink
its teeth into the sacred heart
of our dear republic...

John Lee ******
Crawlin King Snake

CPAC 2011

Matthew 23
Brood of Vipers


jbm
Oakland
2/10/11
John F McCullagh May 2016
The snow was blowing among the trees. In large wet flakes it tumbled down.
My captain turned, as if to speak, but from his lips there came no sound.
A red rose bloomed there on his chest -staining dark the Wehrmacht grey.
I looked in horror as he pitched face forward to the ground.
“******” I yelled and ducked for cover. The copse of trees echoed the sound.

Somewhere out there he awaits; the Devil’s son, the cunning foe.
He’s stalked our party for three days yet leaves no footprints in the snow.
I served in France in Forty –one; before   these Russians were our foes.
I shiver but it’s not from fear; it’s just that we lack winter clothes.
I motion briskly with my right hand, I think the shooter must be there
my corporal nods and starts to move; perhaps he can outflank this man.

My soul is black for I’ve done some things;
  for which I once would have been ashamed.
I saw the Jewess try to shield her babe
as I placed them in a common grave.

This man out there, a warrior; he risks his life upon command.
He is clever, this one, he waits his chance.
Either its him or me that’s dammed.
The drifting snowflakes hide his breath.
But He’s still out there this I know.

My Captain lies still upon the earth
and is slowly covered by the snow.

We are soldiers who risk our lives.
We sacrifice for the Fatherland.
We dream of a woman and a warm bed
Never of Death’s cold clammy hand

My men cry out, the fox is flushed
The ****** has at last been found.

It’s true what they say of the bullet that kills you;
I never even heard the sound.
Martyn Grindrod Dec 2018
Splendid soldier you
I'm merely your descendant
barely fit to footstep follow
I'm discipled , My kindred hero

Foreign soils desperately dank
Churchillian's major tactical outflank
Death by bulleted blight
******* German bight

Evil eradication in Holland's nether land
Liberation free , Guaranteed
Twas his life he gave
Home to a war hero's grave

Death knell to heroic soldier blue
And maybe I'm a tad bitter 'tis true
My Blood lost his life to a gameplan
After all what's a medal without the man

Martyn Grindrod

My tribute to my Grandad
William Fred Grindrod
20/12/1918 - 30/11/1944
Who would have been 100 years old today.
jimmy tee Mar 2014
practice the utmost care
form a vigilant style
peep around corners
be alert to possibilities

develop awareness
study what lurks in shadow
prepare for surprises
hone your senses

visualize potential scenarios
pay attention to the probable
spy through keyholes
listen through thin walls

dis-believe dormancy
list your suspicions
weigh all prospects
refine distrust

cross examine sincerity
swim in the sea of mistrust
suspend all gut feeling
deny altruism

question fact
support skepticism
increase misgivings
keep eyes wide open

bet on failure
indulge at peril
compile odds
rely on doubt

push a fuzzy brand of cynicism
label everything
marginalize what you don’t understand
be conscience of fraud

perceive through narrowness
downplay experience
recycle ancient lies
apply rhetorical loops

reduce all to the absurd
promote jealousy
revel at weak spots
blame impossibilities


design decision trees
ferment rebellion
create false alliances
initiate rumor

draft complex plans
generate half truths
produce unreachable ideals
fashion anger

establish favorable ground rules
start a corporation
coin a catch phrase
invent an argument

launch a promotional campaign
confirm nothing
invert the discussion
determine outcomes

verify the enormous
market greed
prove conflicting arguments
ascertain needless worth

uncover falsehoods
locate the correct word
detect limitations
counterattack always

deliver disadvantage
attack any and all flaws
educate with nonsense
promote vulnerability

assign bogus titles
fabricate counterfeits
rely on fictions
deceive the masses

compose a reason
construct pain
assemble wild games
dismantle the individual

move mountains
consume independent thought
cause penance
gestate chaos


nurse turmoil
outflank righteousness
muddle the message
confide in darkness

plant upheaval
nurture vanity
ignore any mayhem
misname disorder

cultivate hesitation
praise ambiguity
rejoice for indecision
celebrate vagueness

dance as a marionette
venerate a suckerpunch
insult pride
pay tribute to silence

bend any principle
admire baseness
respect behind closed doors
award deceit

erase distinction
cook up conspiracies
diagram secrets
format the unbelievable

lust over possession
outline an escape
draw excuses
strategize sin

parcel desires
aim toward the crass
object to feelings
target the sordid

commit to the improper
corrupt all souls
mock religion
root out the wise

increase loneliness
pigeonhole solidarity
rupture the will
insert schisms

shout down dissent
pound out inferiority
supply sadness
stand toward folly

seek out dependency
crush mild opposition
carve a new standard
delay action
Julie Butler Jun 2015
I'm finished in this spitting divinity down thankless throats

suspending what love you chose to dose for me, hung over my hope

I'm feeding off trees in this jungle of uniform stillness; darling say something.

be not in-cautious with me
please
it is my plea
I cannot stop this loving you
but I can break myself free

it is at night that it bites me
memories like fleas
the battle against drinking my way under sheets to find peace

I waste myself on the outflank of love
I as in I to me
I cannot torture us anymore
I need to be loved without the bleed
nivek Nov 2014
The fire **** furnace yellow bright shine-
of morning burns up the sky-
a tribe lives there in the cloudy grey
warlike brandishing the Sun
Moving at a pace to outflank and surround
all the sleepy hamlets yet to wake
she sets alight the dull dark earth dreams
men like to dream come true
While surreal spectacle of kindred all-
ancestors and those yet to come alive
are bound and dragged behind her parade
Lyla Sep 3
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly,
Held back by a willowed, sandy bank:
The river, green and clear as an eye.
Its silent depths enticed us to pry.
Into the liquid dungeon we slank,
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly.

There we discovered we could scry,
And so greedily we drank
The river, green and clear as an eye.

Our brains ceased to electrify,
Souls fusing with those dank
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly.

Now bloated, white, we putrefy,
For we could not outflank
The river, green and clear as an eye.

Deliverer of fate we can’t defy,
But for our new life we thank
Imprisoned clouds, waiting to fly:
The river, green and clear as an eye.
A villanelle from 2022...the first I had written in a very long time.
Martyn Grindrod Nov 2020
Splendid soldier you
I'm merely your descendant
barely fit to footstep follow
I'm discipled , My kindred hero

Foreign soils desperately dank
Churchillian's major tactical outflank
Death by bulleted blight
******* German bight

Evil eradication in Holland's nether land
Liberation free , Guaranteed
Twas his life he gave
Home to a war hero's grave

Death knell to heroic soldier blue
And maybe I'm a tad bitter 'tis true
My Blood lost his life to a gameplan
After all what's a medal without the man

Martyn Grindrod

In remembrance Sunday my tribute to my Grandad
William Fred Grindrod
20/12/1918 - 30/11/1944
courtesy global warming
temperatures humid,
hot and hazy air
on par with temperature of Zaire
extreme heat advisory
issued for North Pole, where

Santa Claus and the missus
must needs be critically aware
to chuck (and/or shuck)
heavy outfit, and ride
buck naked bare
plus hydrate regularly

(as well quench
thirst of reindeer)
which magically sprout
dorsal fins doubling up
as aqua wear
powering sleigh, qua

state of the art air
row dynamically built
water borne chair
re: yet (chariot) care
fully, expertly, and favorably
designed to surf (ohm my dear)

amp pull size current
without the least bit of fear
of course gift stack
     of gift wrapped surprises
with waterproof papier
mache material just
  
     in case venerably beaded
tight as a tin drum Corvair
like sea worthy craft
doth not (thank yours truly)
unwittingly capsize nowhere
in sight of, not near

the birthplace Edvard Grieg
renown for Peer
Gynt, or far from the hall
of the mountain king,
thus Saint Nick
nonetheless cheer

ring his dis spear
reddit head lee leer
re, querulous,
and pessimistic hare
reed, but (to para
     sympathetic whims
  
     of this writer)
on a wing and prayer
finds, no harm done
   to the animals during
     making of this SPCA approved
video script, whereby;

     Dasher, Dancer, Prancer,
     *****, Comet, Cupid,
     Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolf tear
ring (at the flutter
     shy speed of light), thru
     treacherous waters (mainly

     so this poet can
     add a bit of
drama) exhibit flair
to outflank Poseidon (adventure),
and in nick of

time whip mere
rack yule esse lee to deliver
     seasons greetings
i.e. Christmas good cheer!
His flags are clean and thighs lean
He treats freely in blind alleys, as he
Cannot outflank the army with a pen knife, nor
does he dare to sell jelly as a mercy
While, all the while, his Mother bleeds in darkness
Ernest Borgnine (son to Borg-8) has crapped his last
His masonic ways amount to a Mount Everest of dog-****
Death & dismemberment & drawing & quartering to Luciferians
Resistance carries the encumbrance of futility
Fruity days camouflage vegetative nights    
Bob Dylan kills negroes in Sanford, Florida for sport.
His flags are clean and thighs lean
He treats freely in blind alleys, as he
Cannot outflank the army with a pen knife, nor
Dares to sell jelly as a mercy
While, all the while, his Mother bleeds in darkness
Ernest Borgnine (son to Borg-8) has crapped his last
His masonic ways amount to a Mount Everest of dog-****
Death & dismemberment & drawing & quartering to Luciferians
Resistance carries the encumbrance of futility
Fruity days camouflage vegetative nights    
Bob Dylan kills negroes in Sanford, Florida for sport.

— The End —