Tag Archives: Politics

Don deigns to give an interview to Chris Wallace on Fox; This time Fox doesn’t roll over for Don. Bad Chris Wallace! Bad boy!

Wallace And Vomit.

Donald sat down to do another fawning Fox interview
But Wallace tried to keep Don on the straight and true,
Don responded with his usual pouting pique and rancour-
This was not the usual unctuous behaviour of a Fox anchor!

Chris had upset the finest of well-scripted double acts,
Swiftly Don back-handed Wallace his ‘alternative facts,’
Don was petulant, peeved pissed off and confounded-
No President willingly trots out onto Fox to be hounded.

Don doesn’t wish to to illuminate, he prefers dark misdirection,
To confuse,  obfuscate, divide and misrule to wangle another election,
Leaving Don sweating in the spotlight ain’t what Chris is paid to do;
Donald’s memo strongly suggests a change in Foxes personnel is due.

 

©Obbverse

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.’

 

©Obbverse

Changes come thick and fast with the mercurial President doing the forecasting.

Draw Your Own Conclusions.

That nasty storm Dorian is one mean hurricane,
It’s left the Bahamas behind, but in a world of pain,
Among Florida’s citizenry dark clouds started to form-
Fear not, President Trump has his eye on the storm.

He believes he knows where it will make landfall
And Alabama’s fine folk had better heed his call,
For no matter how hard Mother Nature blows
Wherever Donald proposes is where Dorian goes.

An incredulous gasp is expelled by the weathermen,
Stunned by the Presidents sharp forecasting acumen,
They all believed he’d simply be a meteorological moron,
No doubts now, since he has their maps to draw on.

 

©Obbverse

Theresa May gives up trying. And hasn’t it been long and trying?

The Continental Dogs Breakfast.

If I may say, I saw a sad picture in the news,
This Ms. May, I wouldn’t wish to be in her shoes,
Standing, down, a teardrop trickling from her eye,
The poor choked-up about to be ex-PM says bye-bye.

She gave it her diplomatic best
But her eloquence less than impressed;
Those long impassioned speeches she made,
Until told her welcome’s been long overstayed.

As Theresa turns her back on Number Ten
Ruing that she cannot be all things to all men
She shoulders her heavy baggage and I do believe
At last, friends and neighbors, Theresa’s going to leave.

No more trying on duplicitous deals,
No more clickety-clackety high heels,
No Theresa power walking Parliaments halls,
May has gone, and briefly, blessed silence falls.

A moment of contemplation as Tess departs,
Then the fighting for the Tory leadership starts,
What worthy will fill the shoes of the old dame?
Could another bouffanted blonde stake his claim?

 

 

©Obbverse

A New Year and already Donalds New Year holiday resolutions take an unhealthy turn.

A Word Or Two With The Doctor/King For A Day.

For all those worried if Donald’s not fit for work, do not be concerned,
The resident genius has been checked out, nothings been discerned,
The McDon is good to go, in brain, heart and other vital body parts,
Its a bona fide medical miracle, with his cholesterol off the charts.

A few do accuse our great President of no work and all play
Yet for Donald signing off on the fifteenth has been no holiday,
It’s grim indeed to see him publicly straining to stick to the script;
Words that, self evidently, privately would leave Trump tight lipped.

©Obbverse

Losing My Religion.

Donald Trump goes to a predominantly black church,
How comfortable he looked,he must really be reaching
out for votes. As he says ‘what have you got to lose?’
Sanity, for a start.

Losing Faith.

I took my pew at my local church
And damned near fell off my perch,
Here I have come to try to find The Light
But what I saw plunged me into deepest night.

I recognized the stranger by his golden hair,
It was that Platinum-carded gilded billionaire,
As he began to sway in an uncomfortable Caucasian way
I clapped my hands together, Heavens how I began to pray.

Lord, I know Your work is shrouded in mystery
But two divorces and flirtations with bankruptcy
Seems damnable behaviour for a Commander-in-Chief
So WHY is he HERE and not in his casino is beyond belief.

©Obbverse