Temperatures are sizzling;
Fires burn and spread.
Salad sales are fizzling.
(Eat grass-fed beef instead!)
Immigrants are terrified;
Deportations rise.
Flat-out lies are verified.
Drones invade the skies.
News reporters get the boot.
Algae grows and blooms.
Secret deals to prosecute
Are made in private rooms.
Institutions once revered
Are shuttered or debased.
Everything we’ve always feared
Has happened, in such haste
It’s almost inconceivable,
Yet somehow it is real.
We know that it’s believable,
For nothing can conceal
The way the world is crumbling
And only those in charge,
Despite their shameful bumbling
And greed are living large.
I do not see a way to fix
How bad things have become,
For nature’s tricks and politics
Have made me sad and numb.
Laughing, whilst indifferently
Facing all, good and bad
A marvel; denied each of us
To know about. Not mad!
More than folly, some blunder
Life itself, confronting!
O Lord above! Slow to anger.
And slow to prosecute!
Here is why. What child is more cute
As, jokey, downs a thing?
Betsy was a saint
always there for her mother
she was selfless, giving her time and energy
Her sisters were selfish, never there for mom
my cousin’s side of the story
Betsy took over her mother’s finances
Her mother called me crying
Betsy had cleaned her out
She did not have any money left
Three bank accounts gone
my brother’s side of the story
Betsy’s sisters are horrible
They were mean to her at the funeral
She was so good to their mother
They must be jealous
I cannot remember who said this but someone did
Betsy’s sisters told her they would not prosecute or put her in prison
if she did not attend the funeral, so she did not show up
My brother’s wife threw this to me
Betsy was a saint; she did everything for her mother
I retire from the funeral glad I am not related to any of them
The tale of when our ancient world begins
when curious characters did abound,
such as the audibly contrasting twins,
who bore the common names Silence and Sound.
The mission Sound would always prosecute
with loud and bold voluble persistence,
thunderous, unyielding and resolute,
his one aim to tell of his existence.
While Silence stood still with an open ear.
not caring for notice or attention,
but to understand, empathize, and hear,
a humble, kind and loving intention.
The one who was Silent as a prayer,
was the one, in essence, really there.
A photograph may look cute,
And lead us to prosecute,
But if you want my advice,
Literacy to the truth will help us advance,
With questions to entice
Us to read between the lines,
And look between the pixels.
If we want productivity to rise,
We cannot look at a picture and surmise.
If we want productivity to rise,
Only literacy will make us wise,
To the time we are wasting,
With all the pictures we are pasting,
With no room for words that should be informing.
Now, sepulcher after sepulcher!
Bitter fall-out of a massacre!
After talks failed: the Bilateral
And later the Multilateral:
Fortunate corpses for epitaph,
Missing in action for cenotaph…
Men glory in reckless bloodshed
That succeeds in fields painting red:
Attorneys could them prosecute;
Dissidents they must first execute!
They may be tried for genocide;
Some mosquitoes braved insecticide
Why do we death play like a coupon?
A good shot does that from bad weapon…
In hospital condition serious:
That of shot-in-the-head Prince Julius!
Insurrection hearings are here
Over 20 million viewers
Hoping indictments will appear
For all of the evil-doers.
Government coup
What can we do?
Waiting for action for a year
Riots, liars, MAGA spewers.
Give them their due, and shed not a tear;
Prosecute all the wrongdoers.
Jail him post-haste
Trump, piece of waste.
Jun 13, 2022
Posie Poetry Contest, sponsored by Emilie Pinet
after drinking scotch
what we did do was to watch
plan they had would botch
up efforts will boost
while we watched a chicken roost
that they always must
we would like to wish
always again and again
free us from our sin
fight with an ally
worst was fighting without them
would prefer the first
wonder which is worse
living a life of leisure
struggle until death
putin ounce by ounce
bad news and on will pounce
also try to trounce
they played a tom tom
had a lot of RAM and ROM
sounding like blasting bomb
did learn how to drive
were certain we would survive
then remain alive
never gave a hoot
we prefer to prosecute
finding all the loot
we had heard a bird
knew was totally absurd
liked her coffee stirred
You may have never heard of Clausewitz,
But you’ll hear of wars and rumors of wars
Via propaganda, gossip, and disinformation.
You’ll witness the struggle through a drinking straw.
Explosions will drown out the voice of truth.
Whispered atrocities spread fear out of context.
False flags cast suspicions meant to weaken morale.
Psyops sow confusion and mistrust of the media.
But modern technology and open-source intel
Can peer through the haze on the battlefield.
It counters misdirection and stiffens our spine
To prosecute our campaign against tyranny.
We have the capability of piercing the mist
Sufficient for encouraging our will to resist.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
MATTHEW 24: 6 AND SYNTHETIC APERTURE RADAR
If you knew they would you execute
Would you ugly wars prosecute
And child soldiers recruit?
The thrice- honored far being cute
But now and ever Plain Brute
And The Devilishly Mute?
If you saw combats could yield addicts
Would you pass drug-use-excusing edicts?
All that you did powerfully predict
Trends offering to easily contradict,
More shooting hands hiring,
When you should’ve ceased firing…
Try you they shall for Genocide
And compel to eat herbicide:
An In-The-Midst Weed
They don’t at all need.
Don't let them see us
tremble! – it is what
they want. Don't let
them drink our tears of
sorrow...it will prompt
them to create more
heartbreak tomorrow. let
them hear, loud and clear,
of our definitive resolve –
we will not be divided
and scattered – these
Marxist, racist scum,
will also pay, here on earth,
long before they reach the
fires of hell....
(Lunatics With Power)
Soros, and his sponsoring
of Marxist, soulless DA's and Judges –
The squad, Pelosi's Luciferic Compatibles –
Time to Exorcise such swine, from their
sties of luxury, and into the pens of
our America Justice system, the very
same pens, they have manically emptied,
spilling criminal content back onto
the streets of our society, to
victimize our Nation's innocence –
Vote them out!
And then, Prosecute!
The Law is not Above the Law
By Franklin Price
05/30/2020
The law is not above the law
Cops were never meant to be
Although their lives are on the line
While protecting you and me
Every stop or high speed chase
Could put them in the ground
The bad guys get the first shot
When the lawless are around
The drunk and drug addicted
And criminals by the score
Object when apprehended
And bring violence to the fore
Cops supposed to take it all
And never lose their cool
Not supposed to fight back
When assaulted by some fool
Not everyone can be a cop
Not those, who are inclined,
To assault those they're arresting
With deadly forces on their mind
God forbid they kill someone
This thoughtless one in blue
Or they are killed because of it
Because of how they view
No one is above the law
Not those from either way
The lawless, or the lawful,
Who violate the laws, must pay
Those who look the other way
Refuse to prosecute the law
Should also be accountable
To be the law is not a draw
Did Dispute and Would Prosecute
All things that happened we did dispute,
And of all evil may have been the root,
Had proposed,
Case be closed,
To community cause would contribute.
Jim Horn
I’ll always preside over right deeds
And will not be immoral over right deeds
My commitment will be my loyalty
And every fruit of it will be our royalty
I’ll be very powerful
And will condemn every unlawful
My service will not favor a criminal
I’ll be so different from today’s general
The law will come and create a path
For everyone to have a right to pass
I’ll prosecute the today’s criminals
Who have hands on death of several
Civil rights of my citizens will be restored
All books of these criminals will be stored
All cells will be full of today’s instigators
And will form not a group of investigators
Sleepwalking in my birthday suit
My mother thought was rather cute
But as I aged my little flute
Was soon declared forbidden fruit
Sleepwalking on my chosen route
My teen physique left others mute
Some neighbours claimed they'd prosecute
But soon could see me more hirsute
Sleepwalking as an old galoot
I do not fear a bare salute
My grandson is a new recruit
And just like me, won't give a hoot!
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