Monthly Archives: July 2017

When you’re Blue, you don’t sing; For this copper, silence IS golden.

Part Three: Who Do You Protect And Who Do you Serve?

The case of Justine’s shooting moves funereally slow,
Have the Polis closed ranks lest their Apprehension show?

In high summer the skies of Minneapolis look gray,
Up there, there may be a break of blue, but who’s to say?

How difficult getting Officer Noor’s testimony is proving,
Just as Justine lies silent, so too his lips remain cold, unmoving.

No apology, no point, no reason of why he shot that night;
Hoping to ride it out, hide out till the Press switch their spotlight?

Had it been one who administers the law who’d died
Would not the shooter already be tried or at least inside?

As time trails by, in a chill alley, shadowed, dark,
The trail goes cold, fading like a forgotten chalk mark.

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Guarding the Land of the Free with pride and dignity? Donald might not agree according to his latest communication, directive, early morning crotchetiness or whatever it is that enters his ‘thoughts’ in his dim early mornings.

Mutinous Looks From Th Ranks.

Out comes another early morning tweet from the Great Defender,
‘Good folk of the Services, whichever services you render,
You resignation I and my Forces request you tender-
You can’t kill for my country if you’ve changed your gender.’

Dons life-changing tweet means one important thing- Don is a trender,
Only he and Christ knows if his born-again stance fits His or his agenda,
But even the Pope’s throwing his arms Heavenwords in surrender,
So please God could you return that dumb sh- twitterer to Sender?

Donald Trump firing off tweets and salvos right centre and at whoever’s left . Perhaps he should take aim at the one to blame and blaze away at his blasted foot?

Cutting To The Chase.

One foul swoop, out goes the Chief-Of-Staff,
One more swift tweet, out sweeps the chaff,
Reince is following Flynn and Comeys unwilling example,
Looking over his shoulder lest he’s lost in the trample.

Mister Scaramucci and his unique way of communicating. Where will his dogged determination to sniff out leaks lead to?

Step Two: House Training?

Well, now we know you can’t muzzle the Mooch,
He’s slipped off his lead, and now he’s screwed the pooch,
He’s jumping on the back of every turn-tail supporter;
Master couldn’t fix this foul-up with a bucket of Holy Water.

Another chance for inspiring youth, yet he seems so ill-prepared. A misty eyed reminiscence.

Never Been A Boy Scout.

The boy clad in beige asked, ‘might I be of assistance, Ma’rm?’
As she stood rooted where Broadway and West intersect.

Like good Sir Galahad the lad bowed, and she extended an arm;
The perfect gentleman is something New York girls don’t expect.

He looked left, then right, and then she felt more, not less alarm,
Oh boy, Don IS incorrigibly politically (and anatomically) incorrect.

Anxiety and stress- free at last!

The Rhyme And The Reason.

I watch the doings of our leaders, so sage and wise,
I shake my head, give a heartfelt sigh and roll my eyes,
Once I used to rant and rave but today that’s not my style,
Now I only offer a word to them wise-guys, and a sardonic smile.

Back then their clodhopping missteps and monumental errors
Had me waking, screaming in my bed, gripped by night terrors,
No more sitting in sweaty (sometimes slightly soiled) nightshirts,
Now on Fluoxetine I feel fine- apart from the odd bout of weltshmerz.

Post Hearing; Don decides on a Declaration of intent.

Sorry, WHAT?

How now will the patriotic defenders of democracy regard Don?
What of his witterings on his Divine/Presidential right to pardon?
A call on which both Jeff and Don Junior most deafeningly agree?
I believe I heard Don perfectly clearly, but if I didn’t, pardon me.