Cohorts of suits distort
Court the last resort
Damnation of immigration
Onslaught in cahoots cavort
Pander to propaganda slander
Escort darker fraught faces
From other races caught
To starker places.. shunted
Hunted like a sort of sport
History debunked
“Before” skunked & kerplunked
Lore of Yore junked
Fossil fuel full sumps
Well More is More
Trees flump become clumps
Of gnarly snarly stumps
Petrol pumps pour
Sheriffs thumps any grumps
Tariffs Gazumps…prices soar
Ready for the final encore?
Practice makes perfect
Progress makes knaves
Cacti makes pear juice
Congress makes slaves
Panic makes errors
Pressure makes waves
Comfort makes cohorts
Cancer makes graves
Obtuse abuse..rude platitudes shout..
About alternative attitudes..generations..
Scream at different altitudes & latitudes..
Venerate mandarins sins..
Generate pernicious vicissitudes
Vicious avaricious machinations..
Celebrate nations chagrin…
Pander to propaganda spin..
AI garlanded reputations..
Cohorts in suits cavort in cahoots..
Kiss or diss..the abyss
Hiss of mis-information bliss..
Arrests..capitalist corporate conquests...detests protest..
Well got egregious prior & previous..
SO
Whatever your hue or world view..
We know what's wrong..doesn't belong
Deliriously daring to dream of derring do..
The meme..prime time you probably knew..
The Force..of course..
Is also seriously strong in you..
She has a pretty face
She carries herself well
In uniform she is an iconic
Many so desire her moments
A detective she carries her gun well
When duty calls she flashes her smile
Its a smile i have see disarm many
She has no use for brute force
For her lovely essence nets all delinquents
I used to spy her long time ago
At the signals training school
Once we were Seim Cohorts
Remember.. Kurutu mbona hanyoi..
God knows what followed that
Her MO disarms with ease and grace
My MO disarms with an O prerogative
Saidia Utumishi.. They also need service
Our officers in uniform have to be served too
That's where PMC's we come in and succeed
For controlled outcomes and black ops OP
Some had bank accounts taken t'was on the news this
Situation'
Though some reasons were given.! That these people were un-ruly
Un-shriven?
Yet that turned out a misnomer? Or a lie.? Maybe
Just a stumer?
Let us trust in the passage; of some time, all can't
Manage, thats.Just fine.
Will there be a retribution? On these operatives of
Institutions?
Social steerers; cheerers of default changing, who appear
Mostly as changelings'
Should the cohorts of a feather? Get some tar as per
To the letter?
Will the emails be 'flying?' Will many pundits be vying??
Is there any reality?
Can there; be? some countering of such insanity?
Oh yes!
It's a trekked year—
As the lonely part bled to tear,
The wordless lane gripped my fear
Like a toddler who felt his mum left the dark room.
So Credit!
The day my cohorts for years
Left to face their arrears—
We sang and danced with cheers,
Carrying the thought, 'when is it again?'
After that!
None to say I host,
Everyone faces the royal coast
Just like a broken window
Our minds free the emotion flow.
I'm alive today!
My day is my dear,
Applauds to who were always there
This time is content of cheer
Spreading like a moving breeze.
Despite the lectures
we sought one another
love her like a sister
she loves me like a brother
I left the table gathering
bits of conversation
chatting with others
I learned she wished to marry
we joked about our status
and smiled when we spoke
of us together
She hunched me with her elbow
and told me a kiss change me
ever since then we were together
she really makes me happy
night swallows the light of day
under the glaring moon
hazy humid summers
a evening dinner in june
we wished to marry
on Valentine
on a cold frosty day
but the baby was due in
august
the moment carried us away
Do you ever think of me?
Think of what we used to be?
It’s true our time was very short,
The briefest of carnal cohorts.
Almost thirty years ago,
Yet my mind is always blown
Up, across, and far away,
When I dream upon those days
And reminisce about those nights
In that city filled with lights.
We met by lucky circumstance,
Serendipity, random chance.
You, the older, taught me much.
Your lessons always turned to lust,
For I was not a little child;
Fully grown, I’d been defiled.
I had some fantasies to try;
You very graciously complied.
Hot and sweet and rarely sour
Was that summer that was ours.
The Biggest Apple, shined and new,
Was Red Delicious; so were you.
Do you care about Stormy who or
any one else Trump stuck it to?
Keep the focus on his worse transgression,
the 1-6th insurrection.
Do you need to know with whom Trump cohorts?
Why spend the money and tie up our courts?
Trump was elected as our President
and with little experience to the White House he went.
A game show host which was quite absurd.
When will people stop talking about this tweety bird?
Snowy week, the weather reports.
Knowing it will bring out the best,
I head to the slopes with my cohorts
Intending to be first to the crest.
Not all can know the exquisite exhilaration
Generated by that delicious flying sensation!
Santos fooled the folks as he spoke
George thinks mashing facts is a joke
This N.Y. House dope
Needs his mouth rinsed with soap
His diaper-rash words make me choke
Author's note: Why did voters in NY district #3 elect a bold-faced liar to Congress? Mr. Santos may have some kind of illness. Be that as it may, if a candidate freely lies, fools the voters, and receives no condemnation from his party's cohorts, it suggests the following:
It's not about where the ship of state sails, but rather who resides on the top deck. If the hull leaks, we can all go down, so even top-deck denizens ought to be careful about who does what.
It is easy
Doesn't take much effort
To convince the innocent they are guilty
All it takes are willing cohorts
And their concerted efforts
To manufacture believable evidence
Begin again with original sin
Live in poverty but wait for the heavenly
Life is another punishment waiting to be happening
And you will bend your knee to other gods
You will trust in demons
And their face of your governance
You will believe under the pain of death
Such victims are those
Who have no choice left
It is easy
To convince the innocent they are guilty
Innocence is as innocence does
There has been no respite in the tipping of the scales
Punishing the children
So the, you are sinful, doctrine always prevails
And under the blanket of your sin
Such evil laughs at your innocence
Disgusting grins as you ask it for deliverance
Ah! you soft targets
You easy marks
You the betrayed in your innocence
A dog upon a cross
Butterfly in a net
A hopeless case of perpetual abuse
soft TARGET
Do ostriches not watch the Capitol's public hearing?
Afraid Donald's name will be sullied in the smearing?
He's a black sheep that subversives keep on cheering,
He's a coup conspirator everyone should be jeering.
There's not much worse than a closed-minded fool
who allows him/herself to be used as a political tool.
Politics is as nasty as the overflow from a cesspool.
Trump takes a dump and his cohorts praise his stool.
Jim Jordan and other Republicans refuse to admit
that Trump controls them and they just won't quit
condoning his lies and alibis, and why do they do it?
They're ostriches who keep shoveling his stinky s...
Keep your heads buried. Sooner or later you'll see
that continuing to believe his BS is a damn travesty.
He's divided Americans on issues. What a tragedy!
If re-elected, he'll expect to be called, "Your Majesty."
Oh, to be an immortal immortal
to be remembered
revered, quoted, honored
in the caverns of my cohorts.
To bear no scars
from the slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune
nor fear of the picture
of Dorian Gray.
My hair will be occasionally
In - and out -of fashion
my credentials oft challenged
and in need of updating.
My wives will all leave me
my children fade before my eyes
as I weep “immortal” tears
for endless aging
does not temper pain
nor quell the rage
of now.
©4/20/2022
If I Were Immortal Poetry Contest
*Image of Daniel in the Lion's Den by Peter Paul Reubens.
The Sixth of Daniel
Walketh I, thy path of righteousness, beheld His glory,
Lifted me upon thy pedestal, godsends didst overflow,
Name I lord overseer to a third of the Medes kingdom,
King Darius favor astir cohorts to envy, concoct ruses,
Deceptive intrigue dupes, prayers to induce him alone,
Ruling ricochets both together King Darius and myself,
Unbeknownst I, exploits hands didst seize my person,
Thy servant wast bound cast down into the lion's den,
Constant pray I, Grace abideth with me, I fear no evil,
Occasion thy beast that they'd hunger naught, assert,
Oh Father, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven,
Art denied am I thy countenance, 'tis yond lion's den,
Faith I apiece well-sprung eyes, obliged glad tidings,
The hour steadies, a lion's den notably stable, bestill,
My presence overwhelms one joyfully, two confused,
Witticism replaceth tomfoolery as similar fates a pair,
Restoreth bliss as a kingdom praises my deliverance,
Redemption's always confirmed in steadfast prayers,
Tenacious faith that placeth the wealth of me in Him.
2022 February 23
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