Only rarely does someone stand up, rise up
And draw the multitudes in
Into the sacred space
That includes us all
And yet somehow eludes so many.
Such is the nature of free will,
We can all screw up, again and again and again.
What did Charlie do to deserve
To be assassinated? Nothing.
What did he do to bring it on nonetheless?
He met people as equals wherever they were,
He tried to raise everyone up,
And he did more to get out the conservative vote
Than anyone in generations, if ever.
Apparently, treating others as equals
And getting out the vote for your side
Is enough to get you killed
Because, I guess not everyone wants to be equal
Some want to be “special”,
With all the special rights that implies
And not everyone wants a level playing field
When it comes to politics and campaigns and elections.
What those people want
Is special privilege and advantage
And dead opponents.
So it is, and so it may be
But, if that’s the game you want to play
Be prepared to die a martyr
To a useless, meaningless, nihilistic cause.
It’s called a self-fulfilling prophesy.
(8/7/26)
This is the modern age
And Life is so passé
That death is what is left, clearly Left,
And so needing to be celebrated
In every child killed, foe assassinated
And human made infertile
In the depths of their confusion and delusion.
What is there that death can hope to conquer?
Not happiness, because even the deadly
Are often happy - celebrating death,
But joy, which is a fulfillment
In something that transcends death,
And the simplest word for that is
Life.
(10/6/25)
Charles Kirk, conservative political activist, author, and media personality was assassinated in Utah on Sept 10, 2025
A world of common sense is stifled
A loss for all of us, indeed
Whoever killed him used a rifle
In vicious, vile, heinous deed
We knew him all and his compassion
Someone who spoke the honest truth
Defending freedom with a passion
And gifting hope to our youth
He may be gone, yet seeds he planted
Shall germinate and bear fruit
Ascend to Pearly Gates was granted
So sad his voice is now on mute
It’s one of those turning points
That twists the country on its head
Time shall make sense at this checkpoint
What we have lost with Charlie’s dead
Whoever did this want us chained
And walking left instead of right
May not this loss be their gain
Farewell, C. Kirk, one noble knight
September 10, 2025
She died in a body she hated
Her last memory was watching herself get assassinated
How she died isolated
Surrounded by a see of white faces
Who stood there being witnesses
To something that would be talked about across the ages
Her blood had painted the pavement
The cop stood there admiring his painting
She died in a body she hated
She didn't even get to experience the freedom
Of what it's like to experience self love
All her life she had spent her time being critical
To her blackness
Not only was her time stolen
But she didn't get to experience the joy that comes from
A black girl taking control
And realising she was never the problem
It was the system
Who destroyed her self image
And finally realising her blackness was a superpower
She died in a body she hated
The cause of death: racism
She died in a body she hated
Not realising the only reason they hated was because of their envy
And jealous behaviour
She died in a body she hated
Without finally understand her full potential
She died in a body she hated
Before her life had even started
In twilight's hush, where shadows play,
A paradox reigns, in endless sway,
The good perish, while the wicked thrive,
In this land, where virtue's brief, and vice survives.
Patriots fall, like autumn's leaves,
Assassinated, poisoned, for their noble deeds,
Their voices silenced, before their time,
As darkness feeds on justice's prime.
Bola Ige, Barnabas Igwe, Marshall Harry too,
Ogbonnaya Uche, Ken Saro-Wiwa, and more, anew,
Their memories linger, like a mournful sigh,
As tyranny's grip tightens, and hope says goodbye.
Gen. Aguiyi Ironsi, Gen. Murtala Muhammed, fell,
Their legacies lost, in a tragic spell,
For how long shall the good people die?
When will justice dawn, and tyranny's night pass by?
The beginning of me the ideology
wearing wires pregnant buying
weapons and drugs from corrupt
officers for the federal bureau
of investigation the department
of Justice the center piece
cointelpro levied just so the
matter of facts the 44 magnum
in my mouth teeth chattering
looking through an assault rifle
red dot on the female agents
ponytail my children singing
my girl with the fbi supervisor
I'd be murdered for a lessor
god I'd be assassinated bullied
extorted crippled by a car bomb
I will still drink my lemonade
on a Sunday afternoon I'd still
die an American hearing my
fetus heartbeat I'd still remember
Chicago I will never fret over
gang violence nor corruption
I shall still adore my roses eating
ice quenching my thirst during
a stroke I'll still be American in
this land on this soil my blood
shall run through the hidden
canals as the sun shine on my
back an yet I'll still be American
I'll still be me when I diiiiie
You boffin from The Caucasus Mountains, are you a devil or human?You have destroyed my seeds, the source of my survival.
I used to grow my seeds, which gave birth to more seeds on the same piece of land, but today, you have killed my original seed.
You boffin, are you a curse or a blessing to humanity? Why have you assassinated our ecosystem,which was self-sustaining and thriving.
I never invited you to come upon my land. You have sucked out all the nutrients from my original seeds. Your goal is to see us Perish .
You boffin, are you simply a long-term liability to creation, or you are here to colonise my food by contaminating my original seeds.
What have I done to you to deserve so much evil and wickedness from you? Everywhere you go, you create chaos and miseries.
You boffin, you have brought synthetic seeds upon my land and total destruction of the natural world.
You boffin, are your acts of human or devil?
By Chanda Katonga.
Israel managed to slaughter
a child every ten minutes
The Zionist Gold Medal Award
If you have not heard
Israel assassinated hundreds of the Free Press
Another Zionist Gold Medal Award
IDF soldiers confessed to killing for sport
To relieve their boredom on the slaughter field
Gold, Silver and Bronze, compassion meaningless
Grazing Trump’s ear gunshot when goes,
It nicks nation’s much-fancied nose,
World’s keen to know-- sharp ears,
Should things change in near years,
Republican romance,
Passion with pro-gun stance
Should slow, if ray of remorse shows.
_______________________________
Happenings |08.07.2024| USA, political
Poet’s note: This bullet might divide America more. For, four of the 46 presidents have been assassinated in office. More than half a dozen others have survived. Like Trump, democracy may survive, but will face some more fears. Violence can’t be vouchsafed, but if it causes the country’s love affair with gun a rethink, it will serve some purpose, if Trump be any wiser, any sober.
good old dead Rutherford B Haves
most do not know he was president
his name is not famous like Lincoln or Kennedy
because he was not assassinated probably
But he could be famous for one thing
He was the first president to allow a phone into the White House
His phone number is so easy, you may be able to remember it.
It was 1.
The newspaper blew in a twisting fashion
Stopping only to hug the wall
The words jumped out
Assassinated
The night already black
Such an important man
People wept openly
They arrested a man
Though, he died too
Time went on
Mystery built up through the years
They all had their own theories
Films and documentaries proved one thing
Death was cold in the afternoon
People always say in conversations
What were you doing that day
The newspaper blew in a twisting fashion
Stopping only to hug the wall
The night we said goodbye forever
The words jumped out
Assassinated
Just how I felt.
He spotted the building in passing
So strange
It was the building in his dream
The little round windows
Even the flower beds
The gargoyles looking down, so frightening he thought
That strange looking door
So medieval, uninviting
He remembered in his dream
The hidden pathway
Leading to the tunnel into the house
Waiting patently for the man to appear
Feeling tense when he did
He woke with a jolt
Wiping the sleep from his eyes
Looking around, wondering
The clock frowned
Time was on the move
It was at the news-stand
Where he noticed it
The headline flyer
With the words standing out
Prominent politician assassinated
So strange
It was just exactly like his dream.
I am John F. Kennedy as
President.
I am a civil right activist
100 percent.
I am Woodstock rock n
Roll festival.
I am the first man on the moon
Unforgettable.
I am Andy Warhol 15 minutes
Of fame.
I am Martin Luther King shot
Down in flames.
I am President Kennedy gets
Assassinated.
I am the Cuba missile crisis
Activated.
I am Walmart opens it's
Door.
I am we enter Vietnam
War.
I am the Beatles I want to
Hold your hand.
I am discrimination spreads
Through the land.
I am the NFL's first Super
Bowl.
I am Ceasar Chavez reaching
His goal.
I am the Peace Corp
Uncovered.
I am Miranda rights
Discovered.
I am Motown records
With Shop around.
I am the Beach Boys
With a surf sound.
I am at the Apollo with
Marvin Gaye.
I am Del Shannon singing
Runaway.
I am a hit with, Please
Mr. Postman.
I am Sgt Pepper's lonely
Heart club band.
TURBO1904
I am President McKinley assassinated,
Roosevelt takes office.
I am Einstein's theory of relativity as
Promised.
I am the Harley-Davidson that was
Created.
I am even today no other cycle has
Dominated.
I am MLB's first world series
Game.
I am the disposable razor,
King Gillette is the name.
I am Susan B. Anthony the year
She dies.
I am President Roosevelt when he wins
The Nobel Peace Prize.
I am Oklahoma when it becomes a
State.
I am San Francisco when the earth
Shakes.
I am an explosion in a West Virginia
Coal mine.
I am the wheatback penny with a
New design.
I am the FBI the day it was
Born.
I am the Model-T ford without
A horn.
I am instant coffee when it was
Introduced.
I am color in a photo first
Produced.
I am silent movies at the
Picture show.
I am America modernized by
The radio.
Turbo1904
Many dictators come to a well-deserved fate
Brutally assassinated or dying at their own hands,
Consider these more recent promoters of hate
In third world countries and distant foreign lands.
Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini immediately come to mind,
But Mao, “Papa Doc” and Castro died from ill health
They, like too many, lived to a ripe-old age, we find,
And too many lived in opulence, off ill-gotten wealth.
Nicolae Ceausescu of Romania is a notable exception
He was executed by firing squad along with his wife.
All these men were evil incarnate, it's my perception,
It is my opinion they should’ve all been denied life.
Written December 4, 2022
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