Category Archives: Donald Trump

Roger Stone, a loyal Trumpian Republican trickster who’s lies bullyings and intimidations have landed him in State incarcer- accommodation. So, who will he turn to?

The Company You Keep.

Alas, poor miserable Roger Stone,
Into the slammer he’s been thrown,
Another Trump flunky lies in the hole
Unless Don has mercy on his craven soul.

The cells are where many dodgy deals are done,
Will Don take Rog’s call, begging Dons pardon?
In some dark sun-baked states liars get stoned,
In Dons half-baked State is perjury condoned?

Dodgy Donald pleads guilty to using his charitable trust for paying a few bills that no poor over-taxed billionaire should be expected to cough up for. The old fraud. Literally.

Give A Little, Gain A Lot.

Donald is a giver, he’s generous to a fault,
He’s worked the land, proved he’s worth his salt,
A poor real estate man, the scu-salt of the earth,
A man who shows us today, again, his true worth.

The Court has found, much to Dons disgust
He’s guilty of reaching into his sacred Trust,
Oh, its been a far too easy mistake to make
For a man who only seeks an even (tax) break.

The cruel verdict strikes deeply into Dons bleeding heart,
No book deals today for the dealer of his deep dark art,
Tomorrow he will add another chapter to his artless tome;
‘On no account leave any trace of charity beginning at home.’

Losing faith in a tin potty mouthed God? Thoughts after Don went to the fight.

Revelation.

The mildest of gosh darned blasphemies
Once drove Right(eous) evangelists to their knees,
Now that they have accepted Trump as their Savior
They’ll have to accept his unpardonable behavior.

After Stormy they really needed Gods advice,
Should not an amorous adulterer pay a stiff price?
The true believers of Trump use that inspired line-
‘To err is human, but to forgive Don, divine.’

But have even the devoutest disciples begun
To question the veracity of their ill-Chosen one?
Good Lord, what would sweet Jesus do if he heard
Don tweet and repeat that Motherf***er of a word?

The President is known to speak forthrightly
But a drunken sailor could speak more politely,
Are a few ex-believers now feeling voters remorse
Hearing Dons rude attempts at social intercourse?

I’m of a Conservative mind,
In Gods words comfort I find,
But if I use my God given-brain
I can’t forgive Don the Profane.

Hallelujah, the scales have fallen from my eyes-
His words and (Miss) deeds serve only to demonise-
That Motherf***er word rings loud and clear,
I’m the victim of believing in a false profiteer.

Now Don’s tweets are down to another level,
He sounds less demi-god than foul mouthed devil,
It’s dispiriting to find Dons not a blessing, but perverse,
And hearing that Motherf***er is a God-awful curse.

Donald Trump is moving to Florida. It seems New Yorkers have not been ‘nice’ enough to him. You can guarantee Governor DeSantis will be on his knees putting out the welcome mat.

Shady Acres.

Donald’s upping sticks and leaving his home town,
He’s set his mighty mind on moving South and down,
Sunny Florida is where he wants to go,
Home sweet home, Mar-a-Lago.

He’s heartily sick of crawling traffic and stalling rents,
Don’s grass looks greener on the other side of the fence,
Don no longer seeks the Big Apples seedy streets,
He’s at home, on the course, teeing off as he tweets.

The President steps up and strikes out at the Washington Nationals baseball game. At least he got a well deserved Bronx cheer.

Drop Out In Right Field.

Donald went out to the ballgame,
Up he stood, expecting wild acclaim,
But when they called him out by name
Back a chorus of disapproval came,
Don truly wondered who’s to blame;
The shame is, the man knows no shame.

The majority of the polls show most people believe Trump should be impeached. Don must feel the pain deep in his psyche, or deep someplace.

Slippery Slide.

Don’s approval ratings are worse than Tricky Dicks,
That other poor but dishonest Republican,
But Don does believe he’ll rise above it all, like a phoenix,
Not see his Great presidency slither down the pan.

If he fails, and too much of the smelly stuff sticks
Don can easily resort to his master plan,
Dig down into his deep and dark bag of tricks
And call on the base part of his loyal K- clan.

Wash away the Presidents half baked fake politics,
Wipe away the vaingloriously fake tan,
Peer into that chockablock box of Freudian neurotic tics
And behold the child inside the man.

President Trump’s call to the President of the Ukraine- the subtle art of getting his message across.

Phoney Friends.

For tweet natured Donald a new day is dawning,
Things are heating up, and not due to global warming,
Talk of impeachment is ruining his peach of a morning,
On the political horizon dark storm clouds are forming.

Don complains those nasty Democrats are to blame
For badgering the poor law a’biden President again,
Take his word for it, there’s nothing true to their claim,
If you don’t believe him, ask the President of the Ukraine.

Mr Zelensky will clearly unconditionally and categorically state
No Presidential pressure was exerted, no Don deal;s were made-
And Dons character is not just good, its unimpeachably great-
Now that $400 million in military aid has been promptly paid.