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Kuvar May 2018
-This is Nigeria,
Where Cattle’s fly their terrorism flag,
Stumping on humtydumpty green white green.
-This is Nigeria
Where corrupt QWERTY and busy ******  
Puts food on the table of unemployed youths.
-This is Nigeria
Where clerics find paradise on earth
Lo!  followers live as church rats withal.
-This is Nigeria
Where Eve plotted against a serpent  
Hm! Mrs Philomena and her fairytale animal.
-This is Nigeria
Where Sundays are full of bibles and Qurans,
Yet her body stinks in poo of immorality.
-This is Nigeria
Where the mace is a mess in her house
As senators sleeps and vacate seats in a hearing.
-This is Nigeria
Where in Nigeria
We are looking for Nigeria.
©️Kuvar
Mike Hopkins Nov 2011
Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
the way you look over your glasses
as you kick those journos’ arses
I love your hairy nostrils and your square double chin
but most of all I love the way you know everythin’
not a skerrick of doubt, any subject, any time
you can hold forth. you’re ready to chime

Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you don’t need no research. no need to hold back
here is your wisdom, you’re on the attack
here is the gospel according to Tuckey
you front them with macho, you front them so plucky
you tell them the answers straight from the heart
they look like stunned mullets as you take them apart

Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you run rings round those greenies, those tree hugging ****
with their talk about warming, their climate change glum
I trust you Wilson, you know better than them
you can leave them all gobstruck with a home spun gem

Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you can spot a terrorist at a hundred paces
the ones with the beards and the slightly dark faces
we don’t want them here taking our jobs and houses
with their Qurans and burqas and baggy white trousers

Wilson Tuckey, I love you man
you show us what it means to be Australian
some call you redneck, some say you’re not cool
but you are our bedrock, you are no fool
you are the brown substance of this wide, sunburnt land
and that’s why, Wilson Tuckey, I really, really, really love you man.
©Mike Hopkins
Blog: mistakenforarealpoet.wordpress.com

Wilson Tuckey is / was a particularly colourful and, in my mind, obnoxious Western Australian politician. He lost his seat in the Senate at the last election. 'Journo' is an Australian journalist. 'gobstruck' is shocked or lost for words.
Michael Marchese Mar 2017
Check the twenty-twenty fission
Adam splittin' Eden vision
Bustin' caps in gas emissions
Spittin' written ammunition
For the first-world problem chillen'
Droppin' free speech bomb sedition
On the third-world problem villain
Grand old wizards' ku klux gizzards
All white **** meat chicken dinners
Suckin' Christian dictions'
Hissin' contests over spoils
House of Slyth'rins witherin'
The shale-shock sowing soil
With Satan seeds of ignorance
Still thirsting for indifference
From money hungry London royal
Global warming blizzards
As they're bleeding dry the rivers
Into liquidating oil
Treasure buried with a shovel
In oases brought to boil
Nine eleven popped the bubble
But with Jesus in the building
Turning metal into rubble
Smelting graces into gilding
From the melting *** he's spilling
Into off-shore power drilling
Making killings on the rigging
As Mohammed was displayed
As a scary, bearded, brown-skin man
Through tricks of terrorism's trade
And God's right sleights of winning hand
Pulled rabbits from Fatah's grenade
And cooked 'em in Afghanistan
For PTSD noise parades
And hot dog chugs for Uncle Sam
To waste the land, supply demand
For ol' Osama's unmarked grave
Obama hosted-masquerade
White-washing New World fear campaign
Them masks of patriotic acts
In place as they removed Hussein
Disguised the ethnic cleanse crusade
With bush league mass destruction claims
When the caliphate they made
Went Khomeini on Iran
A stand against the David camp
Shelling bibles to qurans
So the shah's Allah mirage
Put the profits in the pockets
Of the prophet's arbitrage
Camouflage the Green Zone spans
With pyramids of Reaganomics
Tricklin' into sovereign sands
Long before heathen jihadists
Flew their kamikaze plans
Into Trump towers' blacklist fists
Of modern warfare contra *bans
Simon Quperlier Nov 2013
My mind is clogged, it can no longer filter thoughts, I'm now like a living dead, I'm my own slave, you made a confession, you unplucked your feigned feathers and you whispered you were not an angel, you were the demon that never hurt, the phantom that would be my guardian angel, the demonic girl that needed affection, then I asked you, why me? You exercised your spell on me and made me believe I'm the true documentation of hell's beauty, oh demon, you have possessed me, you have confined me in these unbreakable cages, you want us to wed in the fires of hell, you want us to burn the bibles and qurans, break the crosses and crucifixes, then sacrifice the reverends on the church altars, now I'm seeking justice, I'm trying to call upon the holy spirit, I'm trying to imbibe the holy wine, and if God won't water down my distress with blood of Jesus, then the noose is the only option.
See my eyes was made to
Embrace lyrics to you
From the universal
Cirruclum check the selcorum
Lay out my projected forums
Enter your mind
At light speed indeed
Was made out of bad deeds
So that means my
Conscious still feeds
Off ******* so I meditate
My cells through tokes
Of ****
Pledge an allegiance to the
Aliens creed
Then soldiers was made gave me a brigade
I became spawn from a deeply burned human
With so much pain endured
Makes for a charm
11 rifles attached to my arm
Ammunitions for days
So they can't harm in eye of the storm
I see the demons in a vicinity
In a swarm
Like buzzards lookin' for carcasses
Mentalities dead
You can tell from all the words said
Lyrics so deeply force trauma is shed
Openin' up pores of the skin cells leave em for dead innocent bloodshed
It don't matter how many bibles
Qurans and torahs are red
We livin' in the end times
So many left with their souls plastered
They solely mislead once I recited' rites and rituals I became a figure head
Which means I figure stuff out ahead
Out of the game
Of the elitist that thinks twelve years ahead
Of craftin' a perfection universe is my lesson
Cosmos and other constellations
Is my Smith and Wesson
Words is bullets causin' ******* with no interruption
Beat all corruption heart's in touchin'
Without use of my hands til swear runs from my glands
From the adrenaline
Rushin' temples bustin' who can you trust ?
It ain't about us its about people that's before
You love and you learn
I gotta watch these leechin' folks
Cuz they'll get you gassed in you'll burn
Into a blazing lake full of fire
Don't ask me when imma retire
Never only until I recieve a message from higher
Powers being so take notes as blow minds like a dryer
Who's can stop the reigning Messiah ?
I'm comin' with Elijah with chariots angels shined up with heavens fire

— The End —