‘Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’ – Molly Ivins
El no Tuskmusk to Mars on high, sigh …
rockets in his pockets, Spacex no wimpy latex
Earth’s too mundane, drives him simply insane
not enough lanes for Tesla’s electric cars, a pain
this what a fly on the wall heard him tweet neat
His TBC Boring says humans are asleep, snoring
Starlink is soaring with Neurolink probing robotic chips in brains’ dips, humanoid robots devouring
X’s bitter, Twitter as name was not enough for astounding fame, freaking wacky wealth game !
‘Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’
— Molly Ivins
I helped rescue your kid, a help just owed,
As cries that pierced the air near end of road.
His bone fractured, his mouth without some teeth,
My arm was bruised, the fall with pain beneath.
You sued me, lied the fractured bones my fault,
Your wicked lawsuit rubbed my bruise with salt.
A fly on the wall, your presence depicts,
Your aim, from Facebook friends a million clicks.
A fly on the wall could see it all,
Politicians tweet while empires fall.
Experts claim the sky is green,
While streaming feeds refute what’s seen.
Cats in costumes trend worldwide,
And news reports in memes collide.
The fly just rolls its tiny eyes,
At viral truths and epic lies.
The fly shrugs, buzzes off in disgust
Humans debate while facts turn to dust
Halls of justice full of gloom
criminals and victims in every room
Some hide their face, others sly
Glaring at others with a stink eye
Guilty and innocent, a mix of fears
Torment is pacing, verdicts bring tears
A silent witness, no words has thee
invisible to all, but large eyes do see
Who are the guilty, in justice hall
Ode to be a the fly on the wall.
I wish I were a fly on the wall,
To hear leaders preach virtue while plotting our fall.
They smile for cameras, righteous and tall,
Yet behind closed doors, chaos, greed, and gall.
If truth had feet, it wouldn’t walk at all;
It would sprint from their meetings down the corridor hall.
Promises stacked like papers no one recalls,
Excuses whispered thin as shadowed walls.
Their honour a theatre, a hollow call,
While the real story hides where no fly can crawl.
They gather in gilded rooms to plan our fate,
With jovial hands that legislate our plate.
They speak of "sacrifice" and "common need,"
A noble, crisp, entirely costless creed.
We’d pay a princely sum, should scales be just,
To hear the truth behind the noble crust—
The private chuckle, the relieved "Thank God
Those eager fools will bear the goad and nod."
But we’re not there. We watch from down the hall.
How sharp the teeth that grin to see us fall.
How sweet the honey when the powerless call.
Obnoxious and undiscerning
Teeming with power, devoid of meaning
intelligent-passing and ethical-seeming
‘Our only choice for defeating evil is taking away your choice for Good.’
Good with slogans
Good with words
Misconstrued, misused, misheard
As their reverberant declarations overtake stifled, dying cries
I mumble into the abyss
And regurgitate the whispers of the night
And I remain,
the fly on the wall
“Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’ – Molly Ivins
What do the priests patter about when
they meet in the chancery for their parish planning?
Or, when the pandering politicians meet
in their elegant, posh offices
hashing out the welfare of the people
over the goblets of bourbon and bowls of caviar?
If I were a fly on the wall
I would be privy to their innermost thoughts,
their shameful secrets, and
their malicious motivations.
~Contest: A Fly on the Wall
~Sponsor: Suzette Richards
War here, war there.
Fighting over what — long gone.
We remain a fly on the wall,
hands tied, mouth shut —
yet it all echoes in those cries.
Victory somewhere, despair elsewhere.
A son comes home; a son lies six feet under.
Again, to win — over what?
Is that really a win?
God didn’t make countries or thrones;
God made humans — with heart and soul.
Yet we remain a fly on the wall,
hands tied, mouth shut.
A fly on the wall can surely see
The blatant display of idiocy
The lies that you spread, disguised as a truth
An unshakeable stance, in spite of the proof
Conceited, inflated in your own regard
Pathetically pompous; a view to discard
You are not smart, or true to your word
Just a big mouth on legs, completely absurd!!
That little blue screen in the corner of the room
We escape reality by scrolling into our doom
Getting caught up in an endless digital gloom
Locking ourselves inside this weary digital tomb
Watching us deteriorate, we never felt so small
It’s funny how some are scared to take a call
Afraid of what’s real, afraid of life and all
What I would give to be a fly on the wall
Observing a harsh reality from a safe place
Is that why we’re here living in cyber space?
A fly on the wall told me
the powerful don’t fear truth—only witnesses.
He’s logged more secrets
than a courthouse basement,
watched officials repaint rust
and call it progress,
heard promises reinforced
with duct tape and declarations—
and every time the powerless speak,
someone swats at the sound.
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