Click to enlarge
Look at this sick fuck. Just look at him. This made me see red. I hate him so fucking much.
Here is the URL if you'd like to tell him off too.
Showing posts with label dump trump. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dump trump. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 29, 2020
Monday, April 27, 2020
Ornery Poetry + Sly Rhymes: The More Things Change (Part 2)
Image by Tibor Janosi Mozes from Pixabay
The more things change, the more they stay shitty
The words of the Orange Dolt ain't pretty
He talks like a clown
Spewing his foolishness 'round
Proving his brain is just itty bitty
~sly has spoken~
Image purchased from 123rf.com
Copyright Julia Henze
NaPoWriMo: Write a review poem of something that doesn't usually get reviewed. Well, it's a review poem anyway. I give this particular subject terrible reviews all the time. Every time I fart, it's a review of what I think of his shitty performance.
April PAD Challenge: Write a change poem. Boy, do we need a change before Vice-Admiral Shitbrain sinks not only his own ship but the whole goddamn fleet with his egotistical ineptitude.
notes
I'm keeping it simple today and just having fun, letting my snarky, politically inclined alter-ego, Sly Fawkes, take the reins. This poem isn't anywhere near good enough to share on any of my subscription platforms.
I'm using this poem for my debut on Something For the Weekend, Sir, to be published on May 3, 2020. If you enjoy discussing poets and poetry, stop by. They may not want me back after this one!
If you enjoy my work, please click here to find out how you can support me. One of the easiest suggestions pays you and me both!
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Riffin' on Jim: Poetry of the Netherworld Remix in the Style of James Schuyler, Sort Of
James Schuyler (1923 - 1991)
Image from the Poetry Foundation page
This poetic remix exercise takes the titles of all poems written for this month's challenges and roughly reworks them into the style of James Schuyler's poem, Sweet Romanian Tongue.
Drew down the COVID-19 curse on broken-down America
The stench of time breaking down a corpse
We cannot sail away on the asphalt sea
Some prefer to hide in sleepy little towns
Why do we follow a lunatic down the road to hell?
I harbor a secret wish that there are better days ahead
Yet the masque of the Orange Idiot may prevail
Too many fall into his trap
Steve Mnuchin, such a waspish twit, it makes me weep
I think I will head to Mr. Lovecraft's madcap zoo
Perhaps I have fallen into a time-leak mousetrap
Will we all fall victim to the word that destroys
As fools with brains full of love in bloom for Trump
Refuse to get their news elsewhere away from Fox
We are unable to hide beneath a lead umbrella
As everything rages out of control like a fire from a cigarette dropped in dry grass
The spirit of the wood hides in pitchy night
Staring at the damage, there is no taking it back
"Why would you let this be your legacy, America?" it queried
"I wish this miserable red mess would wake to a blue dream."
The last, best, chosen one went on speaking nonsense
The spirit of the wood wrote a Sedoka for a lost world
"These are the happiest days of our lives," the orange despot bellowed
Wagging tarnished silver tongue as the wind lifted his piss-blond hair
I wrote a message to my past self, an impotent warning
"I give you a gift wrapped in horror," it read.
"Although I fear that my words may be lost in translation."
"The people made a troublesome choice," I warned her.
my diseased and dying body smelling of wet cigarettes
"Will Mark's train come to collect me in the pitchy night?" I wondered.
"Will social distancing save us?
Or will we all wind up lying dead in a field of rotting pumpkins
As the crows and vultures pick the sun-dried flesh from our bones?"
Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
NaPoWriMo: Use a long poem by James Schuyler as a guidepost for your poem
April PAD Challenge: Write a remix poem
This work is cross-posted in these places:
If you appreciate my poetry, please consider picking up a copy of my first published poetry volume, Another Autumn.
Rotting Pumpkin Sestina by Sly Fawkes
Image copyright Deedster on Pixabay
https://pixabay.com/photos/pumpkins-halloween-trump-trumpkin-1580968/
This snarky Sestina is composed by Aunt Cie's snarkastic pundit alter-ego, Sly Fawkes.
I
with a brain like the inside of a rotting
pumpkin, Dear Leader 45 takes the stage
spouting out misleading misinformation
telling his audience to mainline Clorox
"It will kill the coronavirus," he says
"You just change the pH balance of your blood"
II
never mind that he knows nothing about blood
please ignore the fact that his mind is rotting
or that he is just a ham who loves the stage
spreading deadly lies and misinformation
you'll die shooting up an I.V. of Clorox
you should not ever trust what Pumpkinhead says
III
our Dear Leader with rotting pumpkin brains says
he thinks you should inject bleach in your blood
to make the coronavirus start rotting
please do not concern yourself about the stage
leading to death from his misinformation
coronavirus is not cured by Clorox
IV
you can wash dirty laundry using Clorox
please pay attention to what the label says
do not go injecting Clorox in your blood
for if you do, then you will soon be rotting
death can be anticipated at the stage
following Pumpkinhead's misinformation
V
a four-year onslaught of misinformation
the White House needs a good cleaning with Clorox
and since we can't trust what the red leader says
we need an injection of blue in the blood
this once-great country from within is rotting
get the pumpkin-headed ham off of the stage
VI
hopefully, we have come to the final stage
of daily ranting and misinformation
clean up the rotting pumpkin stains with Clorox
and really hear the words each candidate says
we can't let their charisma poison our blood
scandal addiction leaves our country rotting
VII
a scrubbing with Clorox
may relieve the rotting
it's time to clear the stage
~sly has spoken~
Royalty-free image copyright Julia Henze purchased from 123rf.com
Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley
Please do not repost
Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.
Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.
Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.
NaPoWriMo: Write a poem about a fruit. I was initially going to compare Cheeto Stalin to the Annoying Orange but decided that a rotting pumpkin was more appropriate.
A pumpkin is, in fact, a fruit. Here is a fun page that explains why.
April PAD Challenge: Write a nature poem. I may have done the reverse of this because the Rotting Pumpkin-Head in chief is utterly unnatural.
This work is cross-posted in these places:
Thursday, April 16, 2020
NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 16 + April PAD Challenge Day 16: The Last Best Chosen One
Image by David Bruyland from Pixabay
the last bigly best forever president
is a very stable genius, just ask him
"I am the chosen one," he says, looking up
he makes the best jokes, right?
"Trump is doing a very good job," he says
giving himself a gold star and Nobel prize
he is the best at complimenting himself
often in the third person
the last bigly best forever president
thinks he deserves a military parade
Kim Jong-un gets one, so when will Trump get his?
don't care how, he wants it now
the last bigly best forever president
knows everything that is going to happen
he was chosen by God to be the messiah
at least if you ask him
the last bigly best forever president
would not still be in office fucking things up
if Congress had the guts to remove his ass
impeachment means shit
~sly has spoken~
image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Sunday, April 5, 2020
NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 5 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 5 + April PAD Countdown Catch-Up Day 5: The Masque of the Orange Idiot
Like a pigeon from hell
The Red Death tripped the light fantastic in the door
To a nation helmed by a megalomaniac so wrapped up in himself
That he didn't hear it knocking
He didn't see it coming
He didn't smell the decay
Of the bodies lying in the streets
He was too busy tasting the saccharine
Of the lies he told himself
About how wonderful he was
To touch upon the truth
And so he heard the death knell
As a victory march
And his mind burst forth fireworks
In celebration of his assured triumph
Donald Trump, the despot monarch
Of the land of the freely dying
He said he didn't see this coming
Then argued that he always saw it coming
And took to Twitter to shitpost
Some stupid memes he cooked up
To magically distract from his cock-up
As the Red Death painted the town
King Don said the Red Death was all the fault
Of the Lamestream Media
And Hillary Clinton's emails
And Obama's microwave
Because they let the Chinese Virus
Come across the Mexican border
He emitted smoke from seven orifices
Proclaiming he had other pussies to whip
So Nancy Pelosi better stop ironing his head
Raving narcissist lacking empathy
As stable as a sleeping volcano
Being rudely awakened
He flew through the corridors of the White House
Proclaiming "that ornery old lady Cie is a nasty woman"
"I will lock her up!" he cried
"She claims I am bigly responsible
For the Red Death dancing through the streets
But I will pound his ass into a quivering jelly
Because I am a very stable genius"
King Don continued ranting
Det ligger en hund begraven
There was no magic in this moment
The American flag dropped to the ground in despair
Night fell over the homeless sleeping in parking lots in Las Vegas
~sly has spoken~
image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
notes
This poem was penned by my politically-minded alter-ego, Sly Fawkes
Here is the list of prompts followed to create this poem.
Also included are the prompt Moment (for April PAD Challenge Day 5) and Magic(for April PAD Countdown Catch-Up Day 5)
Begin the poem with a metaphor.
Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
Use a phrase from a language other than English.
Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.
Shout-out to the page of foreign idioms
Det ligger en hund begraven means "there's a dog buried here," a metaphor for someone not telling the complete truth.
Friday, April 3, 2020
NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 3 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 3 + April PAD Countdown Catch-Up Day 7: Follow the Leader Down the Road to Hell
Follow Dear Leader
Down the road to hell
As he spouts lies and bullshit
Out both sides of his mouth
People are dying of a contagious disease
For which there is currently no cure
He advises us to pack the churches
Because apparently thoughts and prayers will make us immune
If only 100,000 people die
He will have done a really good job, he says
Do not be afraid, because
His ratings are better than The Bachelor's
And his ranking on Facebook is at an all-time high
Surely you will sleep better tonight knowing
That Dear Leader is tweeting in the third person
About his Bigly popularity
Just have a cup of covfefe and relax
Don the Con is in charge
~Sly Has Spoken~
Courtesy of my politically opinionated alter-ego Sly Fawkes
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Sly is feeling the Bern again
But she will vote blue no matter who
notes
The only prompt I followed today was the April PAD challenge prompt. I wasn't feeling the NaNoWriMo prompt and the day 7 PAD countdown prompt didn't quite fit.
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
NaPoWriMo 2020 Preview Poem: American Breakdown
America, America, alas
the cracks in your facade are on display
how many dead when all has come to pass
how many dead because of the delay
addressing a disease that came to stay
you told us it would all be over soon
deluded jackass braying at the moon
~Sly~
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Sly and Snarky
notes
This Rhyme Royale was penned by my snarky political alter-ego Sly Fawkes with love to the village idiot currently occupying the White House--as much love as he deserves, anyway.
The prompt was to write a poem about my favorite birds. The bald eagle is one of my favorite birds. This one looks angry.
Sunday, March 15, 2020
Friday, January 10, 2020
If the Shoe Fits
"A prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant is unfit to be the ruler of FREE people."
--Thomas Jefferson
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 16: Break Free of Tyranny
Image by Annalise Batista from Pixabay
it seems to me
that for a nation of people
who love to talk about freedom
there were all too damn many of us
willing to trade our freedom
to be under the orange thumb
of a tangerine despot
now it's time
to put up or shut up
now it's time
to take our country back
now it's time
to realize that electing
a rude, loudmouthed reality tv star
with an ego the size of Jupiter
was a really stupid idea
and now it's time
to impeach the sonofabitch
who shouldn't have been in the White House
in the first damn place
now it's time
to fix our mistake
and really make America great
~Sly Has Spoken~
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Notes:
The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt for today was to write a "free" poem. So I decided to move over, Rover, and let Sly take over and write a free verse about breaking free from the tRump tyranny. No putting a fine point on this one. Impeach the illegitimate bastard.
Yes, Pence is his own brand of awful. We'll deal with him next.
Even more worrisome to me than the fact that Lord Dampnut and the Gentleman Serial Killer ran for office is the fact that there were enough people willing to vote for them that they got elected. Anyone who thinks that we live in a country where racism, sexism, classism, and all the other shitty little isms are a thing of the past is, as Flavor Flav once said, blind from the facts.
Wednesday, November 6, 2019
Sly's WTF Wednesday: Lord Dampnut's Wacky Build The Wall Party Game
According to The Daily Kos, there was a fun little xenophobic "Build the Wall" game at the White House Hallow-Evil party as Lord Dampnut sought to indoctrinate the kiddies to his twisted mindset.
Nothing, and I mean nothing that Cheeto Hitler does surprises me. Worrisome though Pence and his beliefs are, I always find myself saying: "Pence is awful, but at least he wouldn't do that." Not exactly a ringing endorsement, only an endorsement of the lesser of two evils. They can't impeach the Tangerine Sociopath soon enough.
"Republicans were, predictably, unconcerned about the message the activity sent, but really upset about the encroachment on their right to laugh. “Everyone loses their minds over everything, and nothing can be funny anymore,” they whined."
This isn't exactly surprising. Anytime shitty people get called out on their shitty behavior, they tend to respond with "everyone is just too sensitive! You can't even do shitty shit without people telling you to stop being shitty! It's just not fair!"
Just another fucked-up day in Lord Dampnut's dystopia.
~Sly Has Spoken~
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Friday, October 11, 2019
OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 11: Silence the Dissenting Bitches
in the echo chamber
chamber at the center
center of the chaos
chaos when you enter
the noise of your mindless mind
mind that you mind your p's and q's, bitches
bitches submit to the muzzle
muzzle the dissenting witches
gag them from the first unwanted kiss
kiss, just kiss, move on her like a bitch
bitch don't want it, what the bitch want don't matter
matter one iota if you get to scratch your itch
no respect for women, you can do anything
anything you want so long as you're a star
star in your own movie in your narcissistic head
head right off to prison and be a star behind bars
~Sly Has Spoken~
Notes:
This eviscerating verse was snarled out by Cie's badly behaved radical harridan alter-ego, Sly Fawkes, who wishes to remind you of the following words spoken by Emperor Commodus Trump and caught on tape. Sly is thrilled that The Humiliation of the American People appears to be going down in flames, and she has popcorn, hot dogs, and marshmallows ready to roast over the impeachment inferno.
“I moved on her like a bitch, but I couldn’t get there. And she was married.”
“I did try and fuck her. She was married.”
“Just kiss. I don’t even wait. When you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.”
“Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Monday, June 17, 2019
So Far I'd Be Fine With President Pete
When I hear and see Lord Dampnut, I start swearing and have to refrain from throwing things because everything that comes out of his smarmy pie-hole is abrasive, confrontational, a bald-faced lie, and/or mind-bogglingly stupid.
Listening to Pete Buttigieg makes me feel like I just smoked a joint.
Granted, it is necessary to analyze where each of the candidates stands on important issues and not make choices based on feelings alone.
All else aside, I can't imagine this man taking to Twitter at all hours of the day to covfefe about witch hunts and fake news while blathering about how the failing (fill in the blank) is telling lies about him, quite possibly while referring to himself in the third person.
Of course, a rabid baboon flinging poop would be preferable to Lord Dampnut. But wouldn't it be nice to have a President who presented as calm, diplomatic, and reasonably intelligent? I've almost forgotten what that's like.
~Sly Has Spoken~
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
Saturday, October 13, 2018
OctPoWriMo 2018: Day 13: National Disgrace
Being kind is
What everyone should do
Do you?
You do not
Not do right
Right is might
Might you consider
Consider the absolute
Absolute power
Power corrupts
Corrupts when misused
Misused to abuse
Abuse those you see
See as less
Less than nothing
Nothing is what
What you discover
Discover within
Within your rotten
Rotten, shriveled heart
Heart hard as stone
Stone over graves
Graves of those
Those who died
Died in vain
Vain sacrifice
Sacrifice for what
What but ambition
Ambition of soulless
Soulless rich men
Men who don't care
Care for anything
Anything but money
Money to buy
Buy the best tomb
Tomb to commemorate
Commemorate their lives
Lives full of lies
Lies always bellowing
Bellowing forth
Forth from your mouth
Mouth always open
Open like a sewer
Sewer spewing waste
Waste of words
Words of deception
Deception of the masses
Masses left wanting
Wanting
Masses
~Sly Has Spoken~
Note:
Written by Cie's civic-minded alter-ego, Sly Fawkes.
Dedicated to the crook in the White House
Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com
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