Kyle Langford runs for governor in CA
He thinks Auschwitz would save the day
and solve the problems that I guess he blames Jews for
But Slavic voters may show him the door.
74,000 Polish Christians died at Auschwitz camp
But Let's look closer under the lamp
Nazis targeted any possible Polish elite
If you attended secondary school, you could die at their feet.
Secret killings of intellectuals, and mass graves
If the kids looked Aryan, they were kidnapped by those knaves
And there was "Generalplan Ost", a plan to settle Germans on Slavic lands
The Slavs would be removed, as such a plan demands.
3 million ethnic Poles died due to Hitler's schemes
Is it really smart for Kyle to indulge in Nazi dreams?
There are much better Republicans running, I give them my vote
Bad ideas keep cropping up, let's keep freedom afloat.
Left and right both have members who don't think Jews are great
The left more of a danger now, they'll do in the Jewish state
But let's not get caught up in cartoon history
The endless appeal of Adolf is a human nature mystery.
How it began
Men in green uniforms
ice blue eyes and leathery lips
saw me in the crib
and declared this child
is an Aryan
I clicked my heels and
sucked my thumb
Mother took to singing
sentimental lieders
and received the fab
iron cross
I became the kindergarten's
Fuhrer
To my regret, peace broke
into my dream
I circumcised
we moved to Tel Aviv
the rest is history
That blue sunken eyes,
Comes the exonerating,
Awesome Aryan price.
Some languages are fluently translatable
but only by how the mouth
utters and shapes them,
they are too musical to be not sung,
like Gaelic; it was my mother’s tongue
and her grandmother’s elder tongue.
Romani is acoustically spell-binding,
Grandfather was a gypsy
horses naturally understood his voice;
it’s an Indo-Aryan root language
like Yiddish, a colloquial melodia
in Ashkenazi/Aramaic.
My own genetically challenged branch
of a familial tree of tongues
is half-Jewish – the wrong half.
These lips follow only English,
a language with too many roots,
its tongues are all blended into
a raucous silence.
There are many multilingual wounds
and they all bleed like dark treacle
out of a hide-bound dictionary.
Which is the easiest way to make two
Indian states to fight?
One is to throw power, language, water-
Issues on their face.
So you’ll have got two Dravid states
Fighting eternally,
O’er slight and petite things for decades
Meaningless, mundane,
So that your Aryan Empire in the
North will have its way
Of flourishing and bringing in caste and
Sect-bred troops set free.
Not one but multiple such issues
Let loose on the south
On the twin sister-states of Tamil Nadu
And Kerala have worn
Out sistership, brotherhood and good-
Will among these two
Peoples, and eroded their history
Of a common past.
Mullapperiyar Dam Water Issue,
Imposing Hindi,
And Koodankülam Atomic Power
Plants are but a few,
Devised by central government to
Keep them warring on
And smoth’ring each other instead of
Pooling their resources.
We will examine each and weigh how
Hampered they progress,
Before we’re onto the treachery of the
Telengana State.
(Written and first published on: 08 December 2020)
Can also be read in full here: https://sahyadribooks-remesh.blogspot.com/2020/12/224-hindu-anarchy-coming-to-india.html
Nazi disco bar,
psycho aryan dancers
fancy cabaret...
After Judicious consideration
the Court ousts chihuahuas without hesitation
With Texas Versus Rover
their dreaming days are over
We'll soon live in a pure Aryan canine nation
The Armenians are’t wanted,
Christians in Muslim land,
we have to make Turkey for Turks,
they’re not part of the plan.
The kulaks are class enemies,
hoarding all the best land,
it’s fine to starve the productive,
they’re not part of the plan.
The Jews have undermined us all,
this is an Aryan land,
gas them to build a brand new Reich,
they’re not part of the plan.
We must make a Great Leap Forward,
make metal, not till land,
peasants may die, but we have more,
they’re not part of the plan.
Let’s take it back to Year Zero,
and reshape this whole land,
send tainted to the Killing Fields,
they’re not part of the plan.
The unborn just get in the way,
don’t need them in this land,
what’s life compared to convenience?
They’re not part of the plan.
These -istaphobic right-wingers
are blights upon our land,
let’s kill the lie that is freedom,
they’re not part of the—
Wait—hey, who gave them all guns? Oh shi—
(Written through the eyes of a 6th century B. C. era Scythian warrior poet)
wind o wind o wind!
wind o wind whichs cleaves
the steppe in dire stagnation
eternal is the ride,
endless, the expanse
forever is the arrow
and the still air it slices
has no end to it either
below the ever-great sun-disc
we tremble
like hearts in lover-chests
half human, half stallion
hoof and hand, neigh and bow
into everlasting cold
echoing
aryan ancestry
from back centuries or even millenia
into ever-hinterlands
where slint-eyeds
and blue-eyeds
and brown-eyeds live
the steppe-nation spreads
like eagles soar
or how wolves migrate
DIFFERENCE
A friend once said that
difference is a problem
when used as a weapon,
perhaps something good
when sought as an
adventure.
He started the interview
by clearing the air, told the
corporate panel at the mahogany
table that he was an African, Jewish,
Republican cross-dresser from southern
Mississippi, both the son and the daughter
of an Islamic Russian from east of the Urals
and an Ethiopian Christian of half-Chinese
descent who was partially handicapped and
wanted by Interpol for clandestinely supporting
Cuban revolutionaries and Aryan supremacists
by transporting drugs for an Afghan cartel
whose amoral leader, the half-Indian
brother of his beautiful mother was a
Colombian priest who had
broken his vows
He shuffled his feet
and prepared to get up
but the wiry-haired man at the
head of the table held up his hand, looked
over his glasses like an exasperated teacher
about to show faith in a mercurial student
“Get over it!” He said
“You start work on Monday!
You’ll be the company entertainment
for the next thirty years!”
Well! sycophantic misanthropist, verbose agitator of spite
Club footed whore master, couldn’t goose step for his life
Malicious propagandist, spreading hatred in every breath
His wife willing disciple, poisoned their 6 children to death
Demanding patriotic nationalism, big speech carcinogenic
Snickers in vehemence, sardonic grin, genocidal eugenics
Never dirtying his hands, an aryan superstar, not by blood
Master race aspirational, looks into the mirror then shrugs
Doctor of nihilistic supremacy, swearing hypocritical oaths
5 ft 4” gigantic paradigm, inferiority complex, slow growth
Promising victory up to the last, faithful to his fuhrers flag
Cowers from nearby artillery, blasting Swastikas into rags
Hiding amongst his sewer rats, goes insane down a bunker
Mixing morphine with champagne, to alleviate going under
Saved the best cocktail for last, cyanide and bullet casings
Fitting end to crawling malaise, and cockroach infestations.
Biting Satire Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
24/02/2021
Men defend
their mental status quo
even through a mortal neglect.
But here,
a rare deed
emanates from a girl’s heart.
She plucks
the puppy
from the crow beaks that carve death.
Resisting
the pessimistic voices around,
she tends to that stray animal hit by
an auto rickshaw.
Her virtue is buttressed
by her brother and friends.
Confidence illumines hopes.
The flickering life
gets steady.
Let these shoots of virtue
grow
in the parched world.
Inspired by a news clipping about the four children - Varadha, Vasu,
Ema and Aryan - who brought a wounded stray puppy back to life.
In 1938, boxer Joe Louis did the patriotic thing.
He had an entire nation in his corner of the ring.
Here, he was facing German heavyweight Max Schmeiling.
Yankee Stadium in New York was the site for this meeting.
Schmeiling was the symbol for Aryan supremacy.
He was considered a hero in Nazi Germany.
Louis was fighting for freedom and democracy.
In the ring, Louis fought the way that would astound.
With a technical knockout, he defeated the German in one round.
Louis and Schmeiling became friends for years after the fight.
For many Americans, that was a memorable night.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
history lesson when my friend called the gym teacher an old Nazi ...
O foolish Amerikan klan,
who hath Klux bewitched thee with pale poof?
Kluless to the celestial truth,
Love immutable is infinity grand
Children of the Aryan band,
what doth the dark star say unsooth?
Thy divided house is quaking from the foundation to the roof,
as incantations of hatred are caste by thine hand
Stir madly the black cauldron with thy ladle iron brand ...
knowest not, thou Jim Crow vows are dove uncouth?
Universal love is the relativity proof,
yet thine mathematical impurity will cancel thy hexed land
Inverted cloud 9 chanting brings triple digit reign; slow death quicksand,
cursed cause invoked by thou warlock heirs of John Wilkes Booth
Mix the enamel pox potion from thy bittersweet Cain rotten tooth,
let angry spirits from boiling brew be vomit spilt upon thy Endora strands
Thus, the mirror of time will show the cold reflection of thy fool’s errand;
ought not all ayes idol-ly stand by, and watch thy seance plight aloof?
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