Facula, flash fulgorous.
Chime, chorus, sharply in.
Pumice stone, rough and porous?
Blood below the skin.
Mantle of the harpsichord?
Wraps around the core.
Reptile complex, tooth or sword?
Either way it's gore.
Moreover, hellfire. Killing fields.
Floor slaughterhouse, tiled.
Yield or come home on thy shields.
As before, poor. Riled.
Hurricane, thy beginning.
What will seed thee, storm?
Ululate, underpinning.
Lava, keep them warm.
Rush. Volcanic power, crush.
Dragon, heard that thrush?
Crocodile, wildebeest. Such.
Cloud, the rainbow's touch.
Fire in my heart, burn ice cold.
Ashes, fall around.
Trillium flower, poison sold.
Salve healing, thy bound.
Gadarene, black gabion.
Galant, galago.
Gallimaufry? Gallion.
Goetic the grow.
Fulmineous, fumarole?
Not exactly matched.
Ground to powder, golden bowl?
Toll the tallest thatched...
Ceuta is a Spanish city in North Africa (population: 80K people). On July 30-31, 2026 it was invaded by over 60,000 mostly young men (no women or children) who breached the border from Morocco. Some went back, but many thousands stayed or went to Spain and no one tried stop or expel them
To those who let the hordes come in:
You are the enemy within
And care not for folks of yours
The fiends walked through the open doors
They didn’t care for the law
The riots worst we ever saw
Payback when Spain Okay’s their stay
But own people they betray
Somewhere hides the “greater good”
Netflix or even Hollywood
Should pick the story of conquest
About how we lost the West
The Muslim savages are best
Failed breaks, all riled, brutal fest
They didn’t stop, run amok-crazed
Yet Spain’s “left” remain unfazed
They don’t belong, the devil’s seed
In our world, with our creed
Projection of the things to come
Continue play blind, deaf and dumb
August 5, 2026
TRUMP IS SUCH A CHILD
IRAN MEETS TRUMP THREATS GO WILD
GETTING IRAN RILED I DON’T KNOW WHY
Spare the rod
You’ll come to hate the child
King Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes
Isn’t that wild
Commentators cite Abraham the Patriarch
who constantly pampered Ishmael
Abraham watched his undisciplined son go off the rails
Not to mention Isaac, who loved Esau, let him do what he wanted
which led Esau to rape women, whom ‘for sport’ he hunted
So, Solomon really meant what he said
Abraham came to hate Ishmael; Isaac, Esau to dread
Yet if you still consider King Solomon an irrelevant old head
Know that his advice came with one proviso
A father must never – ever – strike a child when he is riled!
So will Ben be back to lead his men?
Stacks of hacks chiding with their pen
Question all asking time & time again!
Key and Baz hiding in their ECB den
Riled echo chamber dialled up to ten
Let us know and if not now then when!
Fall of Bazball no longer a verdant glen
Now bogged down in a waterlogged fen
Astounds as Baz all about pounds or yen
Folks a coup by you know who should ken
Stokes came first not the egg but’s the hen
Spicier than wasabi with his kemosabe zen
ECB on their tod as it all crumbles yet again
So odd sod the fans & their God called Ben
If is the end than ECB to hell we send Amen
Bradley pup’s birthday was on Halloween
trick-or-treating seemed kind of mean
it riled up that usually happy pup
he did not like strangers when he’d sup
can’t they trick-or-treat some other time?
Bradley would ask his daddy in a whine
I’ll try daddy said, but his bark was not understood
they ruined his birthday every year as treaters could
Replication, O photon.
Atmosphere. Molecules.
Phase, like seasons. Here, then gone.
Tools, tremors, toadstools.
Occipital ridge, troll, bridge.
Billy goat, thy horn.
Pestilence, thy name is midge.
Freighter, fain, forlorn.
Lightning bolt, fruit of the gods.
Eat one and become.
Mycelial, goldenrod?
Mushroom, just stay mum.
Sign of salvation, sea-bass?
Shark, set eyes on same.
Liquid legend, O my lass?
Sure. I'm glad you came.
Tympani, crush. Firefly, flee.
Knock thrice, then flit, thrush.
O behemoth, swim thy sea?
Death, you've had a brush.
Enormous or gigantic?
Titan, which to choose?
Oil on surface, stiff or slick?
Flickering fate, fast fuse.
Race, a trace of turkey wild.
In the corn, my child.
Charnel house floor, stains a-tiled?
Ululate, red riled.
Racket, informed packet?
Data, grow in trees.
Weather, wail. Jail, jacket.
Pain, poisonous to please.
The little gnome-like Rumpelstiltskin
spun straw into gold thinking he'd win
the queen's infant child
but then got so riled
when she spoke his name, to his chagrin!
In the story Little Red Riding Hood
(woods full of danger, a basket of food),
the hungry wolf, big and bad,
a reprehensible cad,
was outwitted by a maiden so good!
Oh fiddle-dee-dee!
Oh fortuity!
Come take a chance with me—
on a slippery-dip slide,
down to serendipity,
where happenstance
shakes the dice,
and takes the chance
to dance with me,
romance with me.
I tripped on a maybe; I slipped on a sigh,
did a dance with chance, as it wandered by.
That flipped the switch—in the blink of an eye—
My fortune lit up, streaking across the sky.
Call it a fluke, call it a break.
Call it pure chance, no hands could fake—
When you riled the give-and-take,
you made luck, drive in its stake.
Let fortuity fling! Let serendipity sing,
Let fortune shuffle its luck through everything.
A stumble, a tumble — then you swoop right in!
to play all your cards—go bold, all-in!
So spin the wheel to clack, clack its spark,
let chance light a match to scatter the dark.
Make merry, and rouse the larrikin lark—
to laugh, sing, dance—a fling in the park.
Oh fiddle-dee-dee!
Oh fortuity!
Come take a chance with me—
on a slippery-dip slide,
down to serendipity,
where happenstance
shakes the dice,
and takes the chance
to dance with me,
romance with me.
Looking for a brand for our growing herd
Nothing fancy nor absurd
Just something to let em know their mine
Rain or shine
Getting them to water.
As days grow hotter
Long lonely nights
Avoiding the lights
Keeping them out of fights
Yep, takes nerve
Feelings held in reserve
To ride heard on any kind of chicken critter
Some seem down right bitter
It takes sand
But back to our brand
Chickens need a tiny branding iron for sure
No cure
I've watched them grow
I want you to know
Ain't easy roping them tiny necks for one.
Waking up before the sun
Crazy roosters trying to claw your eyes out.
No matter how loud I shout
A rooster is a dangerous critter
Grabbed my friend and bit her
Never know when they will start stampeding
There's no impeding
There's no helping you then
Mauled by a lunatic hen
You won't win
They are clucking crazy when riled .
Can go from meek and mild
To totally wild
In nothing flat
They drop the hat
That's right.
No sleep at night
All they do is fight.
Pooping my breakfast what can I say
That's my day.
Ice doesn't concern itself with the thoughts
of men, it is speaking Mother Nature's
language, loved by men when weather is fair;
despised by men when weather is then fraught
with wind and snow and stormy invaders,
deadly to men going out if they dare.
Better to shelter when Nature is riled,
better to rest ‘til Nature is tapered
into gentle breezes and sunshine's flair,
better to wait until ice is exiled
by Natures warm share.
Yes, I’m the cute little pooch,
You treat like a substitute child,
Domesticated and to some extent,
By breeding, I’m pedigree styled,
But don’t ignore my ancestral line,
For I still listen to the call of the wild,
And in my heart I’m still a wolf
And this wolf can be easily riled.
More than a pet, Raja is our sweet child.
He fills all family hearts with true joy.
His luxurious fur is softly styled.
More than a pet, Raja is our sweet child.
A true sidekick, his help may get me riled.
Our love keeps growing for our sweet boy.
More than a pet, Raja is our sweet child.
He fills all family hearts with true joy
Wherever we are Raja wants to be.
He is quite verbal and smart as a whip.
Our family life is his true glee.
Wherever we are Raja wants to be.
Being a cat is truth he cannot see.
Raja heels so no problems on a trip.
Wherever we are Raja wants to be.
He is quite verbal and smart as a whip.
Lord, grant me peace within this day,
make each thought be undefiled.
Let your light only illuminate my way,
so when stress comes I won’t be riled.
Sometimes I forget that I’m not alone,
then I see your hand reaching out to me.
As today’s issues make themselves known,
I’ll instantaneously think of thee.
High winds have come to a land remote and wild.
Oak leaves tremble in the black of night
While critters to the underbrush for the present are exiled.
Like a giant thrashing fiend, wind roars with all its might,
Increasing in intensity as if something got it very riled.
Not many birds will still remain where there is great height.
Gone into thick shrubbery, they’ll hide away tonight.
Wolves huddle together, for they are clever.
Into their dens they go or seek shelter in other spots they find,
Lest things worsen, however,
Dogs of the wild won’t leave any of their pack behind.
Emitting long howls, they communicate.
Rolling thunder proves the whipping wind is more than scowling.
Not too soon will the wailing tempest’s tantrum abate.
Every wolf joins the wind in prolonged persistent howling.
Since the fierce fiend has now begun screeching like a banshee,
Scintillating stars tonight the wilderness won’t likely see.
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