My cat Mimi, cunning and so wise,
Will wait quiet, then bounce by surprise
Make a rat its prey
Hold it in its sway
With it to play in triumphant guise.
Evangelicals of the Golden Coin
hypocrites in every way
every hour of every day
the slaughter and starvation of children
as long as its not their own
they rise up and sing, the others
they deserve it!
colonizers are always right
the oppressed and poor
simply cobble stones to walk over
singing Christmas carols with eggnog
while bombs fall on little children
I want to throw up, sorry
I am disgusted
as would be little Tiny Tim
Even as the forest grew thin and frail,
The trees kept cheering the axe.
For the axe was cunning — smooth with speech,
And wore a handle carved from their flesh.
It whispered, “I am one of you,”
And they believed —
As the sound of chopping became their anthem,
And their roots trembled beneath their faith.
They fell, one by one,
Singing loyalty to their destroyer —
Until the forest was gone,
And only the axe remained,
Lonely, with nothing left to cut.
He always wore that tattered coat,
always black, not a whiff of white.
Those mischievous eyes wore
such a sinister and obsessive gleam.
Were you that toymaker?
Or is it part of my neurotic imagery?
We know your toys can be perfect,
whether creating light or darkness.
Perhaps you are cunning,
or it is I who am so.
Yes, a so-and-so, with eyes
that have light or darkness.
So am I that toymaker,
with a gleam that I wear and bear?
Do I see you, then it, then myself?
Life can be a playroom, filled with colourful toys.
(8 Sep 2025)
The Zebra has a puzzling name,
Alphabet letters strangely cast,
It finishes off with the first,
After starting off with the last!
The Zebra is a cunning beast,
It blends with the waving grass,
With stripes upon its body and head
And even stripes upon its – legs!
She was a diva, diabolical, destroyer of mirth
Maneuvering her way into men’s hearts
She had sexy, chic, classy cunning ways
What they condemn publicly
They secretly admire
What they despise publicly
They secretly respect
They're so deceiving
Acting cunning and it's not funny.
They're so crispy
Very and always crafty
Attaining anything with deceit
Always trampling on another
They're very cunning
Pretending to be authentic
Even when their intentions ain't genuine.
They're so cunning
Forgetting the companion
They're always after substances
Causing chaos
Whenever they don't get it
Steadily brainwashing any
Just to use, ruin and rule over them.
Don’t be deceived by
The snake for your sake only
It’s cunning and sly
I don’t want to pry
Into your business, but girl —
Deception is why
I don’t want you to
Trust the one you lust much like
My sister said, true
I have been so blue
With rue in my mindset like
I have hoarded through
The cunning cat got himself in a flap
He had foolishly fallen for the trap
The cat’s now contained
The bird is unchained
Tweeting, "Feast on that you ferocious chap."
Can you show me the way to my goals?
The one you're so casually sweeping along.
Proceed as you wish and purify our souls.
Dare not hinder my reveries; sing a song.
Have you not been warned against hope?
It dissolves in your grasp, and you fail to cope.
When you notice my delight, do you feel shame?
I'm stolen as my door is ajar, killing out my flame.
I'm a gleaming fish, yet you took my plea.
How could you dismiss me in this state?
You've wrecked the span; I'm trying to flee.
Would it be sinful if you let me fall into fate?
Explain to me how I can reach my dreams.
So I may place it among the oak schemes.
Written: June 4, 2023
Today her brother showed me eyes,
And ask me, how much money she takes from your brother?
And tell, send me a bank statement,
But I know that all,
This is a new way to earn money,
They earn money from a chib, by catching up in love,
To Late night guide boys' dreams and then destroyed,
Yeah! She still shopping with Chib's money,
which everyone knows,
This is the new trend to earn money.
Can you know?
Her parents tell them to do that,
Well, dear, that is a nice way.
To play with someone's life
Never lay a deadly trap
For those who are innocent
That is not by God liked
As that is gross injustice
When one has a clean chit
We must not think of hurting
Preparing a dangerous net
Is not to the Lord acceptable
In case we forgive not sins
One day we may be attacked
We will lose totally defense
On that day we will be helpless
Bad souls will ever be bad
They will never get changed
They will always be devilish
As that is in them inborn
Purely for self-protection
One must act honestly
Even when others violate
We are bound by morals!
The trains of cunning
Two men in a vast field of grain waited for the trains
to meet on a one-track railway line, one a mathematician
had worked out where the train would meet
the other was a reporter skilled in muddying the news.
Of the train drivers, one has a skilled hand used to getting
his way, the other was an upstart backed by western money
and told to call the older man’s bluff.
And there, in the brilliant winter light, they saw the trains
At great speed nearing, the point of no return.
There was a side track where one of the trains could stop
And let the other one through, but would they choose
To be sensible; we shall not know.
I mighty missile struck the track and blew part of it away
The driver of the eastern train was able to stop, but not so
the driver of the western train that ran onto the prairie
that had no cowboys or cattle and exploded.
The mathematician was happy his calculation was right
the reporter wrote an obfuscating article telling readers
the west had won; the man from the east smiled his
calculations had been spot on.
In The Adverts the lines were catchy
But buildings of a glamour patchy,
Behind The Grand Pictures Cliff Builder:
Husband of Contract-Catching Hilda…
Smart-Eyed Hilda gets Forty Percent;
He’s Satisfied with Sixty Percent;
For one year, he won’t be buying her Gold:
No halting at spots the stuff is sold;
Once in a while restaurants not seedy,
Avoiding pubs run by The Greedy;
So that he might save; Who knows When next?
Times there were he never got A Text!
But he had Treasured Trust sadly sold,
Contracts to grab from only The Old:
Before one knows it one’s firms just fold….
Through and through: Poor Quality Jobs;
God Knows Cliff Morgan Shall, at last, Sob!
An accountant asks for accuracy
Playing figures
Always got his mind tangled
Blurring his eyes
And so bustling the calculator
Making his neck strained and fingers stiff
But the cunning figures
Still manage to escape
From his balance sheet sometimes
Causing him a severe headache
What's more
So surprisingly
Sometimes has to go all the ways
To make fool of the figures
For tax evasion
Making himself
Restless and guilty
For the rest of the day
For the rest of his career life
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