Long Al gore Poems
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Ain't it rather ironic that "global warmists" got marooned in the ice!
Their Russian ship was held fer days as firm as a carpenter's vise!
A couple of other ships came to their rescue and also got stuck!
Sans the aid of the good ol' US of A, they'd a-been outta luck!
Egg-head perfessors keep sayin' that Antarctica is rapidly thawin'!
I ain't so sure 'bout that and I git mighty tired of their incessant jawin'!
Seems there's more ice than ever fer the hordes of penguins to savor.
Perhaps "warmists" could find more productive things to do, doing us all a favor!
Can't blame the big freeze on cows fer their emission of methane flatulation!
Wonder how Al Gore is gonna spin this awkward situation?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Dan's on the mezzanine
asking where the mayor lives
I'm on the dole line,
wondrin bout conservatives
The man with the leg cramps
boot camps wheel clamps
says they cut his food stamps.
Look out son,
he’s packin a gun:
God knows why
Pat Boone, full moon
someone's gonna die soon.
Del's on welfare,
Donald Trump is real pissed:
give 'em all health care?
What are we? Socialists?
Thinks I'm Harry Lime:
street crime, sub-prime,
now you're working part-time.
Look out boy,
you're only a goy:
don't revere teachers,
don't obey no preachers.
Jen's on Fox News
talkin bout the bank crash
wanna get some real views?
What about the trailer trash?
Read about Goldilocks
Botox bobbysocks
modelled by Amanda Knox.
Look out, Joe,
you're spoiling the show.
Don't watch features,
don't dance in the bleachers.
Get hired, get fired,
get rich, get stitched,
get tired, get wired,
get hitched, get ditched.
They got the cops at backstop,
Al Gore keeping score
'tween the Poors
and Dirt-Poors,
'tween the Haves
and Have-Mores.
John Wayne's vanished.
He's off to learn Spanish.
Deep within throes of writer's block cerebral cortex feels frozen to the core
Haint no rhyme nor reason
why writing a poem such an arduous chore
twenty two days afore
winter solstice twenty twenty more
or less three weeks from tomorrow
November thirtieth, I implore
the god/goddess of poetry,
perhaps found within Bangalore
highlighted by the 'Green Door'
guarded by the key don Eeyore
also known as Al Gore
him of Earth in the Balance fame
who by George got ambushed unsure
if he chad chance to claim victory tour
when former candidate did score
less electoral college votes
nevertheless in my mind before
thoroughgoing count did ignore
discarded ballots scattered
all across the floor
which outcome incurred Iraq war
insinuating weapons of mass destruction
the gung ho forty third president forswore
existed but quite a few
respectable Republicans did abhor
pinning such ambiguous lore
upon head of recalcitrant Saddam Hussein
bombed back to stone age
think lavishing primitive home decor
no imprecation heaped and hurled
upon United States military, nor
thug, who nobody did adore
asking politely "por favor
can I pretty please take detour
to Galapagos Islands of Ecuador
made famous courtesy Charles Darwin
still popular best selling author
at garden variety generic bookstore
which borders on ridiculous for sure
yet inane rhyme tore
thru my noggin after writer's block
yours truly did deplore
he would spend countless hours in vain
every burst of creativity I did explore
found me smack dab against
figurative cul de sac and bonjour
to you too three score
orbitz after me late papa did bore
mama, she passed away
fifteen years before.
(This is a fictional poem)
I'm like Doctor Frankenstein because I'm trying to create life.
I've been collecting women's body parts and now I'm building myself a wife.
She has a body like Pamela Anderson's but she has the brain of someone who's
a bore.
I gave her the brain of Al Gore.
I just finished putting her together and she's opening her eyes.
She's screaming because I'm ugly and I know that I'm despised.
She said she could find sexier guys at a Bill Gate's look alike contest.
I can tell by her behavior that she's not impressed.
I just gave her two choices, marry me or be put to death.
The ##### just drank some poison and killed herself.
Form:
If only I could be five once more
With all the knowledge en wisdoms from distant shores
Oh what a time I would have
At only five, I would be a devilish lad
I would file tax returns just for fun
Only because I have no income
I would say five million I make
What do you think will be your take?
Let em collect from a five year old
The IRS would they be so bold?
Sure they would try, that I know
My name I would say is old Al Gore
I would eat ice cream all day
If mum said stop! Id say no way!!!!
I am only five once in a lifetime they say
So ice-cream is my right!!! For that I will fight!
I would eat cookies as meals
I am only five and not fat at all
I would eat all day and eat all night
Who the hell cares, I’ll be alright
I would fly to Las Vegas
And place bets on number five
I would date cocktail ladies
I show them five is alive
I would change my name
To Alice Cooper
And behead a few chickens
Just to be cool and scare off a few wiccans
I would buy me a bike a boat and a plane
So I could travel like Hefner and act insane
I'd have playboy bunnies, all wrapped in chocolate
Fantasies and dreams, I would swagger and strut
I would drink whiskey with cool aide cause I am only five
Happy hours I would have with hookers in dives
I would have a fake beard, so I appear six
I would listen to rock all night, ending with Styx
Donuts and Pizza, would be my daily fair
Hangovers and Playboy bunnies, why I know you’d all stare
Oh how evil I would be at this tender young age
Smoking cigars and playing the sage
Id rob me a bank for a million dollars
And spend it on Nintendo as I laugh and I holler
No way they would put a five year old in jail
Who cares anyways, you’d know I’d make bail!
Cause I would be only five
The truth is always a lie
In the face of reality
It is a fragile matter of futility
In a word
Both grow side by side like mushrooms
Sound the same if given the right name
Heard only by one person soon to be announced
Soon enough
Her name is Mary
Known only to herself and others
The truth stands solid against illusionist
Conjured up in prestidigitation’s magic
Other stuff too, too difficult to allude to
Insinuate or mention in this passage
But lets get back to Mary
She has the answers…really…. with perfect clarity
Certainty is a certain part of truth
But a fraction of that, which is a lie, resides
The lie is a factual tale saved in its place
Kept in a lock box out of harms way
Along side the lie lays truth
They make a perfect couple
An unholy alliance of each other
Guess who has the key in case it matters
Mary started the first fire
Invented it along with all other things
(Except the internet...that was Al Gore....He thinks...)
She created the fire of enlightenment
Sticks her hand in it as proof
It does not burn according to her matches
They stand witness to her youth and beauty
And never strike before the covers closed
Friends confront her with the truth
Fire hurts
She laughs at their insanity
Calls them liars, immature
Sanity is on her side with truth and lies
Locked up in that compact box
Fermenting like mushrooms together
She brings them out for drinking exercises late
Exchanging telephone numbers, identities
Intellectual ideas are then debated
Interchangeable in their nature and meaning
They get drunk and stay together
Determined to win they fall asleep
Mary Wakes up with truth and lies in bed
Hung over, they both look the same to her
She questions, “Do I know your names?”
“Have you heard a word I've said?”
Due to extreme conditions beyond Santa Claus' control,
'Tis rumored that he might have to vacate his home at the Pole!
Seems that climate warming is the culprit causing the Pole to thaw,
Which could result in Santa's operation from thence to withdraw!
Mrs. Claus would welcome this news should it happen to occur,
Since she's suffered isolation and cold more than she ought to endure!
Where he might relocate has been a matter of some speculation.
Could the South Pole be his new address to continue his vocation?
This dire situation is causing much hand wringing and ways to contrive,
To rescue the North Pole and keep the Santa Claus tradition alive!
Of course the UN, Congress and Al Gore will butt in to have their say,
As to where old Santa should locate his workshops and reliable sleigh!
Never mind that these people can never reach a consensus at all!
Perhaps a panel of kids is more qualified to make this far-reaching call!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Earth Day April 22nd 2024
I lament bidding Gaia's creatures adieu,
an inner conflict dust brew
within this scribe, who offers ye to chew
(like sweet treats metaphorically) thee do
tee incumbent, when Doomsday clock
counts down minutes few
according Al Gore rhythm
unstoppably ticking,
when life gets turned to global goo
tenderized viz Doctor Zeus
if not Horton Hears Hoo
then most definitely The Lorax
(couching urgent morals underscored
by satellite photographs
showing melting ice caps or igloo,
which planetary sos, sans in extremis
requires joint effort of Gentile and Jew,
plus every other sectarian credo,
dogma, ethos...knew
clear family, and whatnot
to become linkedin with Linda Loo
yes, we moost not forget
Old McDonald's with his moo
moo there bovine creatures
agedly hobbling along, or new
lee born, cuz juiced one day
per three hundred and sixty five
(six with leap year -
imagine dragons festooned leotard
with brand name Oroblu
or poor ole Winnie The Pooh
eternally stuck in Rabbit's
hole sum Hutch as a queue
doth loosely form dreaming up and rue
men ate about the old woman
who lived in a shoe
mien hating solution
(burning the midnight oil) true
lee trying to remedy plight
of said bear character,
hemmed in courtesy
*****sapiens population explosion
whereat their den only
allows, enables, and provides
cubby hole view
perhaps unstated message being woo
king in tandem solutions to resolve
wretched condition of world wide web
possible by bridging differences
between me and you, and you, and you...
essentially everyone
comprising the human zoo.
Here's a little trip
down Presidential elections'
Memory Lane
where the slogans of yesteryear
may seem rather inane
Give 'em Hell, Harry, but Dewey or don't we (1948 Truman vs. Dewey)
All the way with Adlai, but I like Ike (1952 Stevenson vs. Eisenhower)
Experience counts, but we can't stand Pat (1960 Kennedy vs. Nixon)
In your heart, you know he's right (1964 Goldwater vs.
In your guts, you know he's nuts Johnson)
Come Home, America: Acid, Amnesty
and Abortion for All (1972 McGovern vs. Nixon)
Why not the Best --- Not just Peanuts (1976 Carter vs. Ford)
Good Morning America; just Trust Me (1980 Reagan vs. Carter)
Keep Hope Alive; (1988 Jesse Jackson, Sr. vs.
Read My Lips, No New Taxes George H.W. Bush, Sr.)
Putting People First, and
Down with King George George (1992 Bill Clinton vs. Bush, Sr.)
Compassionate Conservatism, but (2000 Al Gore vs.
Prosperity and Progress George W. Bush, Jr.)
Change we can believe in, though Country First (2008 Obama vs. McCain)
Make America Great Again, yet Love Trumps Hate (Trump vs. Clinton)
Some of theses were pretty good
Others were just awful
Whether they moved us or not
At least they were lawful
Go ahead, try to separate the races.
You politicians have egg, on your malicious faces.
Not realizing in your frozen hearts.
You toss imperfect, very hopeless darts.
Neither money nor educatiion
Can separate friends of the American nation.
Equity for Blacks only, you shout from your parapets.
ThatWill never separate us, not one bit.
So you fund hate groups to form derision,
Amongst hearts who have made, no such decision.
You paint whites as Nazis, blacks as slaves?
You think we are animals or morons, you hopeless knaves!
We have friends of all colors and religions.
But you go on fake news, as dense as pigeons.
You do all in your power to make this beautiful world dour.
You shout, “The world is ending by the hour?”
Filling us with fear, like climate change,
The ozone layer went up one percent, but not to Al Gore and his gang.
Whites mucking about, pretending they are Black?
It sickens me, Caucasians,it’s a racial attack.
Equity, as if, this were even ever possible.
We of all colors, think you are miserable.
So twenty years ago, I found a Black sister online.
Living in the hood, with loving heart that really shines!
She’s problems with sleep, as bullets fly about all night.
Seven hundred and thirty five, died in that city alone last year, what a fright!
DC bigwigs avoid the Hood like the Plague.
Yet demand Democrats vote for Blacks alone, don’t dare turn the page.
They tell them freedom is food stamps and a free phone?
It is such a lie, it makes me gasp and groan.,
Keeping the Blacks forever, on othe Plantation Nation!
You, while they are killed in the Hood, fly to Davos on vacation.
Dedicated to my Sistah of another mother!
Like you, Blessed Rita , there is no other!
With love,
Sistah Pangie
1/23/2023