Category Archives: Guilt

Some of us hope those old ‘someday my prince will come, a marriage made in heaven, happily ever after’ stories might just come true. This rarely happens to the average Joe though. Still, sometimes the fairy tale can happen. So I believe.

Daddy Of Them All.

She claimed she was oh-so-pure,
Maintained it was none but he she’d love,
Gave her cross-my-heart swear-to-god word,
Then her bitter tears cascaded to the ground
And she wailed for all she was worth.

So sweet, innocent, oh-so-demure,
Inculpable of what he was thinking of,
Still, that ol’ devil doubt uneasily stirred,
He looked up, but no answer there he found;
Can angels fall, down here on earth?

Sure, now  he might not be quite so sure,
But hadn’t his love sworn to heaven above?
Then when the magical miraculous event occurred
Rather than let the bad word get spread around
Father Joe and mother Mary announce: a virgin birth.

 

(I fear an apology is necessary,
So, sorry.
If I’ve offended I meant no harm,
So, so sorry.
Sweet Jesus, Joseph and Mary,
Christ knows I’m sorry.
I pray the third one’s the charm?)

 

©Obbverse.

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.

Getting to know the people in the neighborhood. Not your average Sesame Street meeting, one suspects. Do I see some recognition in the eyes of one or two souls I pass on the street? Nah, I must be imagining things. I keep walking.

Lost In The Cosmos.

Oh, where did you go to, my lady fair?,
Why, wherever I look why are you there?
In the library, outside Walgreen’s, everywhere,
You haunt my dreams, you poor living nightmare.

Just how did you develop that st-st-st-stutter?
Why do you shuffle along and ceaselessly mutter?
Why do those faded blue eyes peer into the gutter?
What shocking treatment made you our resident nutter?

No cast away dog-end ever escapes your gaze
Despite you wandering ’round in a perpetual daze,
Were you once smoking hot back in your glory days?
Did acid or pipe leave this smoldering testament of user pays?

She looks all too ready for a last trip in a black limousine.
You say I’m a cold callous prick, evil nasty and mean?
No, I am seeing all too clearly what might have been,
Counting my lucky stars and damn glad to be clean.

A vocal critic of the Saudi Prince Disarming winds up quieted, permanently. But richly deserved justice will be served, surely?

Filthy Riches.

After Mr Khashoggi’s unfortunate demise
The Saudi Arabian court, to no-ones surprise,
Found the ruling family’s sweet Prince innocent
Of anything to do with this… unseemly accident.

A few dutifully loyal employees who ‘went too far’
Are now looking at work severance- via the scimitar,
Uncovering this truth causes the Prince much grief-
Even if, to those not richly blessed it beggars belief.

The devastated monarch will be wringing his hands
Till those lily white fingers drip blood on the sands,
But he must just accept the lawful verdict of his Court,
And if anyone thought justice can be bought-
Perish the thought.

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.’