President

imPeaching a Pumpkin

~imPeaching a Pumpkin~

Once upon a time, a Trumpian Pumpkin

was running real rotten, Giving out Blumpkins

to all of the Russians.

Gypsy grabbing, back stabbing, pill head

filled his patch with newts, flies, and toads,

it's right to refute this fruit’s overripe stank

that spews from its orifices out of each, dank pore,

Sad that half of us won’t fact check,

and want another Four more.

~~~~~~~

Nicknames for colleagues are as cool as Nickelback,

yet you still tweet ‘Cryin’ Chuck’, and such, you ‘Lyin’ Fuck,’

as you shit stacks

from a feast of McDonald’s and some dick on a spit,

Creating a full on tar pit of lies and old fries.

Is this why your illegal Third Wife

hates you and lives another life

Alone with your son in a different

state?

~~~~~~~

Your fate

in history is sealed with laughter,

not With, but At, because your Act will age like milk,

The Swamp you sown with slimy silk is the ilk

Of the pissed off man-boy Apprentice,

Orange somedays, Red as Satan these,

Your record reminds me of the Pastors

that mastered pedophilia,

while your People hide your Crimes behind a Confession Wall,

That you’ll never get to build haha!

~~~~~~~

All I can smell is the cesspool of a fool.

I detect a foreign German

gourd in a suit,

Respect the orange Sermon,

with his seeds on your chin.

Keep the greed. Swallow the sin.

Spin this the other way

the Party of hypocrites would be crying for Tea,

throwing fits, banging pots, covered in their own pee.

~~~

The defensive Red-bottomed monkeys are seriously so funny,

They Pray to the Pumpkin, but end up as his dummy.


~ Carmelloyello

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Finally found someone deserving of a rhyme for 'orange' [4th stanza].

If I Were President

IF I WERE PRESIDENT

 

His plan to run for president is to trick them into thinking he’s the best they can get. 

 

His campaign call is to build a wall, claiming without it, the country will fall. 

 

He sings a song to lock the doors, with a refrain that says, "Let in no more".

 

However, give the key to those who look like me.

He says, that campaign will work for me.

 

He’ll plant no seeds of hope and care, but place acres and acres of tares and despair.

 

Adding to his song a chorus:

“The way to maintain peace, is to ban the Middle East"

A catchy phrase that's bound to amaze.

 

Keep them singing and they will miss the true meaning.

When the singing stops, he will have done his part, and found his seat where Barack use to sleep. 

 

The hell with trade, listen to him and we've got it made. 

The way to win the race is to point fingers, and claim disgrace.

 

Experience and accomplishment does not a president make.

It's all about the money; don't you get that yet?

 

It's slight of hand and misdirection.

To the Oval Office is where he’s meant.

Make no mistake he’s headed in that direction.

An investment in his own future is the end in all of this.

 

If a few of you can sing his song and follow along, jump on the bandwagon and sing the daylong.

If you don't know the words, fake it, it’s usually how he makes it.

 

Just remember one simple trick, pick a group, doesn't matter who, make them the bad guy, doesn't matter if it's true.

It's good to have to deflect off of you.

Add them to the song and keep singing along, with a catchy beat, he will never meet defeat.

Please lock the door behind you! 

BO The President

Folder: 
Poetry

At the end of the conference,

In my jealousy, I sat there.

And saw BO from a distance,

Between the stage at its end.

 

He came walking my direction,

And I thought he passed me by.

In fact, enclosure, standing in front of my sight,

And gave me pegs, 'cause I had to be a child.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A dream I had.

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"Obama's Birth Certificate" #8/20/2012

The other day I visualized a "Birth Certificate",
but most of the words,
were covered in "blood".
"Stains" smeared signatures to the point,
where several "names" were no longer legible.
Letters disseminated into the atmosphere,
away from remains that rest on slave burial grounds.
This location is where identification was never proof,
that you were ever truly accepted,
as a legal member of this "Nation".
In the "eyes" of many,
you will never be the "Commander-in-Chief",
regardless of each Sunday morning prayers,
and shared spiritual "beliefs".

I heard echoes in the night from citizens,
who argue that The President,
is not a "True American",
and that he doesn't share the same Religion.
Maybe the name "Hussein",
remind skeptics of Osama bin Laden,
because Ann Dunham,
decided to call her child Barack Obama.

From Hawaii to Harvard,
dedication towards academics,
can now be inspiration to youth of "All Colors".
Where is your Birth Certificate Sir?
Your mother,
might have misplaced these papers,
with your Grandparents who raised you.
Now they degrade you with aggressive plans,
to replace you.
A lot of people "hate" you.

We are all renting space in the United States,
where "The Natives" were so gracious.
Ships sailed from Europe and Africa,
now we have "A Constitution",
written by illegal aliens.
Your life and the life of all Americans,
is worth more than a "Birth Certificate",
or "Death Certificate".
Our past is tainted with racism and violence,
but I "stand" firm ready for War,
with my "Commander-In Chief",
with no "Vital Records" in hand,
only a "belief" in Freedom,
the equality of "MAN".

The End

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We did not vote an individual in office who was not a citizen. This "Birther" conversation should have never been discussed in the mainstream. I believe America looked foolish to the rest of the world for entertaining this topic. If we did elect a President who is truly not a legal citizen, the Federal Government would be responsible for the negligence. -Tony Hanes, Poet.

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