Category Archives: Security

More with a sigh rather than a scream of frustration after yet another assault on the senses.

Once More, With Feeling.

This week it’s been in a dusty little Texas town,
There half a congregation were gunned down,
Another week, another maniac with a gun,
And next week there will be another one.

Our betters wring their hands once more,
Much like last week, and the week before,
Another abomination, another crazy crime,
But DON’T mention gun control at this sad time.

Soon in Sutherland Springs they’ll bury their dead,
A stirring never-to-be-forgotten speech will be read,
But thinking a lesson’s been learned would be a mistake-
Not with Freedom and a high-powered Amendment at stake.

Our fine leader wears a face wreathed in sadness
But he shows no will or want to rein in the madness,
So, next week when some gung-ho gun nut goes insane
We’ll send our condolences and hopes and prayers- again.

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Welcome To Las Vegas, where good fortune and good luck finally ran out; Thank God the NRA have an arsenal of explanations and the bucks to explain it all away.

A Word In Your Shell-like.

‘My NRA comrades-in-arms, times are fraught,
Rally to this call to alms, hand us your support,
A certain someone’s turned to Vegas as a last resort
And left us with the repercussions and a nasty report.

So, with wounds still raw and feelings overwrought
Now it’s time to practice what our forefathers taught,
To cherish old traditions for which they slaved and fought,
NOW is not the time to talk Control, perish (ahem) the thought.

Now you take your time to reflect, maintain silence and comport-
As the painful headlines fade, the peoples memory grows short;
Then we’ll be spendin’ time at Congress and the Supreme Court,
Every gun totin’ donation helps prove justice can be bought.’

Don goes South, bringing glad tidings, and a million dollar bailout. Thanks a bucketload, Sir.

Show Boat.

When Main Street looks more like a boatyard,
When canoeists row ’round inner-city boulevards,
When rain is measured not by the inch but by the yard
Will Don pour more funds into his Coast or Border Guards?

After Katrina left Bush with a failed report card
Donald diligently drops by to give Texas his regards,
That sad sodden state sure does look sorrily ill-starred,
First Harvey, then Donald- two most unwelcome blowhards.

Sometimes all that incendiary talk is more than hot air.

Teed Off On Vacation

When he was polishing his ball out on his course
Don found he had the the time to talk of applying force,
Off on vacation, still chipping away, Don began to ponder
On launching things other than balls into the wild blue yonder.

Part of Dons game is matching fire with fire
But when Kim hears Dons voice his rises higher,
To Donald it’s merely vainglorious sabre rattling,
More obnoxious oafish juvenile bully-boy prattling.

Dons crazy talk is reciprocated by Kim Jong Uns,
Anyone listening knows they’re both Loony Tunes,
And so Donalds words, so lacking in diplomatic grace,
Fulsome words full of braggadocio, blow up in his face.

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Do Dons thoughts turn to Melania and Ivanka
As he self-pityingly putters around in his bunker?
Seems Kim had found Dons gentle joshing… annoying;
The anger from their fallout is more than Seoul destrying.

They line up on Dons White House floor, blithely unaware they’re standing on the trap door.

The Revolving Door.

Michael Flynn strode through Dons welcoming door
Little knowing the rapid turnaround he had in store.

Gone, thanks to Russian lies,
Don could only sympathise.

James Comey said his FBI would find more, much more;
Then, ignominiously HE was fired, a sort of Flynn encore.

I guess to James this came as no surprise,
He wouldn’t stop his his ears or avert his eyes.

In January we’d heard Spicers Trumpian oratory loftily soar,
By July he’s silently tumbling down a white House corridor.

For someone who’d praised Don to the skies
His departure didn’t move Don to eulogise.

Reince Priebus was looking down the barrel to be number four-
Now he’s gone and followed the footsteps of those gone before.

Amongst the few muted old guard GOP cries
Scaramucci’s howl of delight was hard to disguise.

Then a measly ten days after Don had unleashed his dog of war
The Mooch was torn from Dons side, despite the oath he swore.

Privately, Don admits his own picks seem unwise;
Who to trust to keep away prying eyes, and the FBI’s?

On which trusty loyal loyal pool of sycophantic fawning foo- fans to draw?
Don knows a Great deal as it dawns on him- THAT’S what family’s for.

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.

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?