Category Archives: Donald Trump

The senate sits, ready to judge on Donald’s impeachment. Good senators! Impartial and unbiased, just like Mitch McConnell. He’s suuuch a good boy.

Lap Dog Of The Gods.

The impeachment criteria’s been met,
Pelosi’s put the damning paperwork through.

Mitch gets the message, with much regret,
Deep down in his heart, he knows its true.

So, will Don pay his debt?
Payment for many sins, so long overdue?

But Mitch is Don’s precious pet,
A dumbly loyal pooch, who could argue?

Mitch tells Don not to fret,
He’s gonna deal with Nancy Shrew.

There will be no cause for upset,
Not with Mitch’s rose-tinted view.

The House will lose, that’s a sure bet
And Democrats will be left feeling blue.

No praise from the Master will Mitch get,
Better silently sittin’ than gettin’ a kick or two.

Hang dog Mitch knows it’s wrong to aid and abet,
Don’t ask Don if that’s immoral, Don has no clue.

It’s democracy inaction, lets not forget,
Actions in the long-term Mitch will rue.

But Mitch has dealt with Don’s threat-
Standing up to the big dog wouldn’t do.

Mitch don’t want to go see the vet,
He’s got little enough to hold on to.

The President has some reason to get angry. Its hard to reason with him when he gets angry. Now, you wouldn’t like him when he gets angry. So don’t set him off.

Stomping Ground.

Don sat in the Stateroom
Filled with impending doom.

He sighed, set down the remote,
Today even Fox sounded a false note.

He fiddled with a classified file,
Life’s becoming quite the trial.

He would find it hard to explain,
This bit of business in the Ukraine.

Now how he rued the day
Everyone heard what he had to say.

How Zelensky’s voice began to fall
When he got the message in Don’s call.

Zel’s tiny voice on the telephone
Till drowned out by his own.

Looking guiltily at the transcript
He wish he’d stayed tight-lipped.

He dropped that damning folder,
A righteous rage began to smoulder.

He’d dealt from a position of strength,
Their wanted arms he’d kept at arms length.

No guarantee of a shipments arrival
Till given ammo to fire at a political rival.

If a Biden took offence, Don meant none-
No offence, Hunter, you son of a – gun.

He thought he’d done the deal
Till some whistle-blower had to squeal.

He’d release the funds… given time.
Since when’s a white lie a capital crime?

So, Don had asked for a personal favour?
Rudy swears that ain’t criminal behaviour.

Still, there’s plenty left to impeach,
So how to cover (t)his unseemly breach?

How to take a Presidential stance
When filling your big boys pants?

His blue eyes cloud with dawning dread,
He alone has to own the words he said.

But a secret of this size…
All those accusatory eyes…

How to dim their focus?
Try a lil’ hocus-pocus.

It’s a well-worn trick
For a dealer who’s slick.

It’s been done before;
Instigate a bloody war.

He’ll kick his foot soldiers into action,
Smoke and mortars, a fine distraction.

He opens an Army Intelligence dossier,
Something therein might make his day.

He holds the answer in his hands;
Shift the blame on shifting sands.

But Donny sees time is short,
Let’s give it not a second thought.

With a bad man on the loose
Don needed no excuse.

He took what Intelligence he had
And took it out on Bagdad.

A little lacking in tact,
But hardly a war-like act.

Don don’t see it as an excursion
And hopes few see it as a diversion.

Yes, ‘Merica might lose a grunt or two,
But impeachment takes on a distant view.

And, what could go wrong?
We weren’t in Viet Nam long.

That little dust-up in Afghanistan?
That all went according to plan.

The lessons learnt a few years back,
Of riding in and razing Iraq?

After sifting through the smoking ground,
All those masses of weapons to be found?

Though they’d disappeared into hot thin air
Still Don has determined to go there.

Sad to think that, true to form
He’ll unleash another shit Desert Storm.

He’ll fight on until calls for his head cease,
C’mon, he’ll take on anyone who wants a peace.

Few allies want to join his charade  crusade,
How to extricate himself from the mess he’s made?

‘Merica’s allies now don’t think he’s so great,
They’re more concerned ’bout some mental State.

So who, truly, are his friends?
Pal Putin says, ‘that depends.’

And what happens when the dust clears
And his fear of impeachment reappears?

Will he tweet a sorry word?
Will further action be ordure-d?

Will others suffer from his wrath
Or can Don take the higher path?

Don’s more familiar with the low road,
But will his little fingers press the code?

Will Don dazzle us by doing right
Or frazzle us in a flash of light?

Don’s sins I must forgive and forget,
God, please let me live with that regret.

Don’s words are too toxic to call out,
What earthly good is risking his fall out?

A wholly righteous war is easy to start,
Surviving one remains the hardest part.

As the big day approaches it’s time wonder if we might get something from our secret Santa? Or ’tis it the season to hark back on folly?

Too Long To List.

Santa’s made his list and closed his book,
On Christmas day naughty boys will vainly look
For all they’ve wanted, but they’ll be looking sad,
Certainly for a certain one who’s been bad- too bad.

That rascal is up at dawn on Christmas day,
He’s been perfectly good… well, in his own way,
Donny looks at his super-sized Christmas stocking,
Flapping on the Mar-a-lago mantle, empty, mocking.

On the stocking is pinned a note,
In explanation Saint Nick kindly wrote:
‘Sorry old son, my limit’s been reached,
Maybe next year, if you ain’t impeached.’

The President grants a pardon for a turkey fated to be Thanksgiving dinner. How thoughtful, how humanitarian of Don. What a whopper it was too!

Tender Mercies.

Donald’s pardoned a turkey at Thanksgiving,
That bird can walk free and scratch out its living
Freed from thoughts of the chop and of harm,
Given free rein to range, down on the farm.

Donald knows this pardon is his Presidential right,
But he does possess a gross and base appetite,
To his ravening hunger he’s already succumbing,
Sadly, for one plucky turkey, Christmas is coming.

Donald has guaranteed to let that turkey strut-
But Don’s promise does come from with his but,
Stupid bird, to take Don’s solemn word on trust-
Just another turkey Donald’s stuffed and trussed.

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.