Much does he love, at workshops’ feat,
The grandeur of the poet meet.
To see the writer calm and trying
For a rendition of his crying.
Smooth words said with disdain temper
Followed by the cough and then a wimper.
Such workshops give a weak mind pause
To think one is a poet and to seek applause.
But nothing comes to prove it’s all in vain
As fast as the blank page of empty pain.
This empty goes from brain to page
And settles on his hate-filled rage.
He writes of trash and liar’s crime
And tries real hard to make it rhyme.
The words are formed but not as verse
For workshops don’t help the obverse.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
A Socratic Truth
I sit at my computer, waiting for all your lies to pass by
The large lie now on the screen insults my
Intelligence. It is a record of your endless cry
Of hatred, rants and lies that fill the China sky.
I read your lies every day, and I see
Only the hatred you send that must be
Deep within your tortured soul’s marquee
Spewing the words like infected yellow pee.
I often wonder if you ever, ever know
That your soul will end up dashed on hell below
For the hatred ugly in the words that flow
From you moistened lips so sad with woe.
For it is truly sad the hatred you send each day
In the rants against the truth from you so far away
Believing the lies that will make you one day pay
With more than even I care not to say.
You have rationalized the truth you’ve seen in your eyes
And turned your back on logic in favor of the liberal lies
No remorse for the turkey you thought to be the prize
In fact turned out to be the lie that proved to be your demise.
As Socrates has told us and this is nothing new
We are what we daily do
You have lied and this is plainly in view
So why repeat what you know is not true
The large lie now on the screen insults my
Intelligence. It is a record of your endless cry
Of hatred, rants and lies that fill the China sky.
I read your lies every day, and I see
Only the hatred you send that must be
Deep within your tortured soul’s marquee
Spewing the words like infected yellow pee.
I often wonder if you ever, ever know
That your soul will end up dashed on hell below
For the hatred ugly in the words that flow
From you moistened lips so sad with woe.
For it is truly sad the hatred you send each day
In the rants against the truth from you so far away
Believing the lies that will make you one day pay
With more than even I care not to say.
You have rationalized the truth you’ve seen in your eyes
And turned your back on logic in favor of the liberal lies
No remorse for the turkey you thought to be the prize
In fact turned out to be the lie that proved to be your demise.
As Socrates has told us and this is nothing new
We are what we daily do
You have lied and this is plainly in view
So why repeat what you know is not true
A Difference
Amidst the constant jumbled lies of the daily lib’ral press
I set out on my daily search for information, truth under stress.
Lost within my personal search pattern from all these lies
I search within the parameter of the truth liberals so despise.
In this website, I find an Iraqi, pointing to the busy street.
He was walking, shopping, laughing, and living without retreat.
Just what he said, I can tell you, thanks America for this right.
This seemed to be echoing - as I navigated within his site.
"The surge is not working, So it’s time to cut and run.
The Iraqi's all hate you and al Qaeda’s already won!"
It seemed this is all I see at the daily lib’ral press
But I just can’t find this in the Iraqi address.
And these self-appointed traitors, were trying one-by-one
To convince us of our defeat at the hands of all these scum.
I saw their try was hopeless, as most of them would lie.
I called out from my internet world, "Hey liars, don’t even try?"
Must be at least a thousand sites, built with ugly lies,
And even if you had the time, none would dare revise.
Would it make a difference, to waste on them the truth?
And then I paused and thought, it is for the Iraqi youth.
I stopped at another site and saw in an Iraqi’s eye.
"It makes a difference to me sir, this Iraqi will not die!"
With that, I sent out the truth as the Iraqi had spoke.
I stopped to slam another. I could tell this was no joke.
The words that I kept hearing, cut me like a knife.
Where I saw only websites, the Iraqis saw their life.
There is not a lib’ral living who cares about the right
Of a single Iraqi’s freedom and the battle he must fight.
I didn't stop to argue, to prove that I was right.
I kept attacking websites with the Iraqi in my sight.
So I attack you, Dhimmi, and rip you into shreds,
Writing lines of truth in emails by the hundreds.
I set out on my daily search for information, truth under stress.
Lost within my personal search pattern from all these lies
I search within the parameter of the truth liberals so despise.
In this website, I find an Iraqi, pointing to the busy street.
He was walking, shopping, laughing, and living without retreat.
Just what he said, I can tell you, thanks America for this right.
This seemed to be echoing - as I navigated within his site.
"The surge is not working, So it’s time to cut and run.
The Iraqi's all hate you and al Qaeda’s already won!"
It seemed this is all I see at the daily lib’ral press
But I just can’t find this in the Iraqi address.
And these self-appointed traitors, were trying one-by-one
To convince us of our defeat at the hands of all these scum.
I saw their try was hopeless, as most of them would lie.
I called out from my internet world, "Hey liars, don’t even try?"
Must be at least a thousand sites, built with ugly lies,
And even if you had the time, none would dare revise.
Would it make a difference, to waste on them the truth?
And then I paused and thought, it is for the Iraqi youth.
I stopped at another site and saw in an Iraqi’s eye.
"It makes a difference to me sir, this Iraqi will not die!"
With that, I sent out the truth as the Iraqi had spoke.
I stopped to slam another. I could tell this was no joke.
The words that I kept hearing, cut me like a knife.
Where I saw only websites, the Iraqis saw their life.
There is not a lib’ral living who cares about the right
Of a single Iraqi’s freedom and the battle he must fight.
I didn't stop to argue, to prove that I was right.
I kept attacking websites with the Iraqi in my sight.
So I attack you, Dhimmi, and rip you into shreds,
Writing lines of truth in emails by the hundreds.
IF Lying Would Make You Right
If lying would make you right
No truth would ever you invite;
If all your lies were told in speech
No one would ever with you teach.
Were honesty part of lib’ral rants
And truth heard in their ugly chants
No one could stand up to their feats
Of winning elections so complete.
For who could argue right from wrong
When truth backs right with the strong.
Were lying right and fulfilling need
To thrill and create such sinful greed.?
But lies are not right and you know "Why"
Lies give your soul its right to die.
Your lies match your ugly deeds
Hate-filled words no one exceeds.
No truth would ever you invite;
If all your lies were told in speech
No one would ever with you teach.
Were honesty part of lib’ral rants
And truth heard in their ugly chants
No one could stand up to their feats
Of winning elections so complete.
For who could argue right from wrong
When truth backs right with the strong.
Were lying right and fulfilling need
To thrill and create such sinful greed.?
But lies are not right and you know "Why"
Lies give your soul its right to die.
Your lies match your ugly deeds
Hate-filled words no one exceeds.
An Envisioning
I envision you sitting there
Coming up with more lies,
Rationalizing that you’re fair
About others you so despise.
Is your heart too corrupt to seek
The truth you have replaced with hate?
Are you such a liberal freak
You would let this evil be your mate?
Or is it hate that rules the day;
As rain that’s fallen from on high;
Washing away the truth in your dismay;
Filled with the lies in your reply?
With your back to all that’s right
Traveling down the liar’s road,
Dare you step into the light
While you carry Satan’s load?
Are your eyes so filled with rage
You can’t see the harm you’ve done,
To those who in war now do wage,
To protect you from the terrorist gun?
This gun is aimed right at your head
And only those you hate protect your fort.
You see, those terrorists want you dead,
They don’t care about your dumb support.
Don’t you think its time to confess
All the words were lies; nothing more?
Your hate-filled prose you do express,
Prove you are a terrorist to abhor.
As the words of hate hit your tongue,
Doesn’t honor flash across your mind
And convict you of this immoral dung?
Or do you simply stare with both eyes blind?
Coming up with more lies,
Rationalizing that you’re fair
About others you so despise.
Is your heart too corrupt to seek
The truth you have replaced with hate?
Are you such a liberal freak
You would let this evil be your mate?
Or is it hate that rules the day;
As rain that’s fallen from on high;
Washing away the truth in your dismay;
Filled with the lies in your reply?
With your back to all that’s right
Traveling down the liar’s road,
Dare you step into the light
While you carry Satan’s load?
Are your eyes so filled with rage
You can’t see the harm you’ve done,
To those who in war now do wage,
To protect you from the terrorist gun?
This gun is aimed right at your head
And only those you hate protect your fort.
You see, those terrorists want you dead,
They don’t care about your dumb support.
Don’t you think its time to confess
All the words were lies; nothing more?
Your hate-filled prose you do express,
Prove you are a terrorist to abhor.
As the words of hate hit your tongue,
Doesn’t honor flash across your mind
And convict you of this immoral dung?
Or do you simply stare with both eyes blind?
Charcoal Gray
The Dhimmi is the liar of the year
And all the lib'rals repeat his same lies
The hateful podunks still their ears hear
But not the truth of facts he does revise
And he, with ugly hatefulness
Spends all his time in total sinfulness
Then sends me lies in word and deed
Of the now relentless white lib'ral greed
He heeds not the great bird of truth on high
But follows worms that on their bellies crawl
He only hears the words that fit his lie
Repeating them to show his heart's so small
His emails come without proof, only lies
But rant and rave the same old lib'ral line
Of tip dance, discount and rationalize
Of one big, long, everlasting lib'ral whine
But what cares he his soul is lost
When all the hatefilled bounty now his own
Though his own sick soul has been the cost
Not one regret his calm demeanor shown
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free
He lives his life out joyously
No care when death stalks o'er his way
And turns his heart to charcoal gray
And all the lib'rals repeat his same lies
The hateful podunks still their ears hear
But not the truth of facts he does revise
And he, with ugly hatefulness
Spends all his time in total sinfulness
Then sends me lies in word and deed
Of the now relentless white lib'ral greed
He heeds not the great bird of truth on high
But follows worms that on their bellies crawl
He only hears the words that fit his lie
Repeating them to show his heart's so small
His emails come without proof, only lies
But rant and rave the same old lib'ral line
Of tip dance, discount and rationalize
Of one big, long, everlasting lib'ral whine
But what cares he his soul is lost
When all the hatefilled bounty now his own
Though his own sick soul has been the cost
Not one regret his calm demeanor shown
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free
He lives his life out joyously
No care when death stalks o'er his way
And turns his heart to charcoal gray
When the Lies Come Out of Hiding
When the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock
And you hear the podunk spouting all the crap that’s all a crock,
And the lib’rals all are pointin’ and cluckin’ like bloated hens,
And the local dems are waving all their white flags on the fence;
Then you know it must be time to be watchin’ all the rest,
With the lyin’ mouths a spoutin’ from the the stupid lib’ral pests.
As the podunk shouts his lies out and he spreads his normal crock,
Then the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
There’s something kinda smelly bout the lies he tells right here
When the crap he sends out from his mouth stinks up the atmosphere.
Oh, he says he’s right when he spreads 'em all out loud,
And he mumbles all the garbage and he acts so great and proud.
He thinks he’s got all the truth no matter where it came,
For he shouts out all the same old lies even though they cause him shame.
He’s a picture of an idiot, as the Bush he tries to mock,
Cause the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
The stupid, squirming podunk, a lib’ral full of scorn,
Eats the raspin’, graspin’ lyin’ stuff like the kernals of the corn.
His lies stream out boldly like the poison from a sore
But he can’t seem to remember how the truth he can ignore.
He’s a filthy, loathsome creature not worth a dollar bill
As he lies about our soldiers in hopes for Bush a major kill.
He’s a gruttin’ little savage who’s proud to hate us all,
As he sits in his podunk room making faces at the wall.
He thinks he is a clickin’, his great words no one can block
When the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
When the end comes a visitin’ and his lies are piled in heaps
He’ll wonder why he’s gettin burned and he’s the only one who weeps.
When the visitin’ is finished and his life then is all through
He’ll be sittin’ on the burning piles and wishin’ he was too!
I don’t know how to tell him, but I gotta try somehow
That if he doesn’t quit his lyin’ he’ll soon be Satan’s chow.
I’d like to see him stop this crap and come back to the flock
For the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
And you hear the podunk spouting all the crap that’s all a crock,
And the lib’rals all are pointin’ and cluckin’ like bloated hens,
And the local dems are waving all their white flags on the fence;
Then you know it must be time to be watchin’ all the rest,
With the lyin’ mouths a spoutin’ from the the stupid lib’ral pests.
As the podunk shouts his lies out and he spreads his normal crock,
Then the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
There’s something kinda smelly bout the lies he tells right here
When the crap he sends out from his mouth stinks up the atmosphere.
Oh, he says he’s right when he spreads 'em all out loud,
And he mumbles all the garbage and he acts so great and proud.
He thinks he’s got all the truth no matter where it came,
For he shouts out all the same old lies even though they cause him shame.
He’s a picture of an idiot, as the Bush he tries to mock,
Cause the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
The stupid, squirming podunk, a lib’ral full of scorn,
Eats the raspin’, graspin’ lyin’ stuff like the kernals of the corn.
His lies stream out boldly like the poison from a sore
But he can’t seem to remember how the truth he can ignore.
He’s a filthy, loathsome creature not worth a dollar bill
As he lies about our soldiers in hopes for Bush a major kill.
He’s a gruttin’ little savage who’s proud to hate us all,
As he sits in his podunk room making faces at the wall.
He thinks he is a clickin’, his great words no one can block
When the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
When the end comes a visitin’ and his lies are piled in heaps
He’ll wonder why he’s gettin burned and he’s the only one who weeps.
When the visitin’ is finished and his life then is all through
He’ll be sittin’ on the burning piles and wishin’ he was too!
I don’t know how to tell him, but I gotta try somehow
That if he doesn’t quit his lyin’ he’ll soon be Satan’s chow.
I’d like to see him stop this crap and come back to the flock
For the lies come out of hiding as the lib’rals spew their schlock.
A Liberal Tale
Where deviant acts reside
Among those mostly dead,
Close by the evil putrid side,
A lib’ral rear’d his head.
A pungent pile of worn out creeds,
Where truth was never found;
Where all the lying words proceeds,
While all known dhimmis gather’d round.
There liv'd a lib’ral, heap’d in shame,
A weak and shallow sight;
Renown'd for lying; his fame
An inglorious anal blight.
One time in lying pomp he said
All vets had won their vote;
The vote, it seems, he had not read,
But they all won, he clearly wrote.
No true virtues he possest,
Just evil passions felt;
For in his hateful satan breast
No real affections dwelt.
The truth his sad heart could not take,
As his wicked thoughts form'd to prove
Whate'er the hateful mind can fake,
The human soul can’t move.
He lost his chance to repent,
Of all the lies and evil done;
A lib’ral can’t just change intent,
Leaving the task undone.
In podunkville he sought relief.
In a small house built from his lies,
To cherish there his faithless grief,
While nursing a liar’s demise.
There, to his big surprise,
The truth kept creeping in.
A truth he couldn’t revise
Much to his wild chagrin.
What was the truth he couldn’t keep out
And gave him no support?
Twas the truth I’ve written about,
All lib’rals - execute or deport
Among those mostly dead,
Close by the evil putrid side,
A lib’ral rear’d his head.
A pungent pile of worn out creeds,
Where truth was never found;
Where all the lying words proceeds,
While all known dhimmis gather’d round.
There liv'd a lib’ral, heap’d in shame,
A weak and shallow sight;
Renown'd for lying; his fame
An inglorious anal blight.
One time in lying pomp he said
All vets had won their vote;
The vote, it seems, he had not read,
But they all won, he clearly wrote.
No true virtues he possest,
Just evil passions felt;
For in his hateful satan breast
No real affections dwelt.
The truth his sad heart could not take,
As his wicked thoughts form'd to prove
Whate'er the hateful mind can fake,
The human soul can’t move.
He lost his chance to repent,
Of all the lies and evil done;
A lib’ral can’t just change intent,
Leaving the task undone.
In podunkville he sought relief.
In a small house built from his lies,
To cherish there his faithless grief,
While nursing a liar’s demise.
There, to his big surprise,
The truth kept creeping in.
A truth he couldn’t revise
Much to his wild chagrin.
What was the truth he couldn’t keep out
And gave him no support?
Twas the truth I’ve written about,
All lib’rals - execute or deport
The Nation And Its Ultimate Fate
WHERE the liars of Satan find tongue,
Where the hatred lovers embrace,
Where lib’rals and terrorists are one!
They eat the vile meat of disgrace
For the rule of the land to replace;
With tyranny, slavery and hate.
Thinking of nothing but power so base:
For the nation and its ultimate fate!
Round this desire, that is fixed by Shariah
As a fire burning those who oppose
They are burned, they are killed, as pariah;
Singing and shining they dispose
Of those you dare uplift their face
Against their prophet so great
Without a single symbol of grace:
For the nation and its ultimate fate!
Looking out where your lies have begun;
In support of the dhimmi grimace,
Dark hearts drink in lies and are undone,
Where Satan’s desires interlace
With those you seem to embrace,
Showing just how much you hate,
With a soul - an empty dry vase!
For the nation and its ultimate fate!
Mr. Bush has beaten your support
Gave us reason to stand and relate:
How we will win if we execute or deport
For the nation and its ultimate fate!
The Truth You Ignore
Since your sanity is gone
And your body is weak
Sit down tonight
Satan is who you seek
Prepare your soul to rot
In exchange for his grace
Your mind is closed
And ready for his place
Close your mind
Don’t let in the pure good
You will not be alone
All your friends say you should
You may love the turmoil
You may hate the peace
Satan truly loves you
In his place that you seek
The rants grow louder
As the lie lays you bare
Some seek a salvation
You just don't care
His place is guarded
By the lies that you see
Dark ugly shadows
That engulf you, not me
The lies you have utter’d
Means your tickets are bought
His company disperses
As the last ones are caught
You live in his world
You live in his place
Came together by greed
Now nothing but disgrace
But! is it by chance
That the truth you ignore
Continues to beckon
From the now open door
And your body is weak
Sit down tonight
Satan is who you seek
Prepare your soul to rot
In exchange for his grace
Your mind is closed
And ready for his place
Close your mind
Don’t let in the pure good
You will not be alone
All your friends say you should
You may love the turmoil
You may hate the peace
Satan truly loves you
In his place that you seek
The rants grow louder
As the lie lays you bare
Some seek a salvation
You just don't care
His place is guarded
By the lies that you see
Dark ugly shadows
That engulf you, not me
The lies you have utter’d
Means your tickets are bought
His company disperses
As the last ones are caught
You live in his world
You live in his place
Came together by greed
Now nothing but disgrace
But! is it by chance
That the truth you ignore
Continues to beckon
From the now open door
Sitting Silent
And the stars from the sky shining in the blackened night,
I think of you, so sad in your hatred vent not blessed,
Sitting silent, words of hate that only you could have caressed.
They hover on your screen each night, morning and day,
Spewing forth the hate that never goes away,
The hate they represent carries you into their world,
Away from the real, the truth, that daily comes unfurled,
The world you live, so ugly, so hateful, is it really you?
The insults, the lies you spew, all are ugly too,
Yet the very lib’ral thoughts you love so much,
Most decent people would never dare touch,
You show your true thoughts, every time you send your trash,
The lib’rals you so admire would do anything for cash,
The cash that they receive comes directly from below
While you continue in your rants how much you hate your foe,
If the cash comes from below who is this you so oppose
Could it be the one, who around his head it glows!
You Will See
You will see, or you will not see,
That lies are lies and cannot be hidden;
No truth in a lib’ral, I guarantee,
The Dhimmi lied but still says he didn’t.
You have seen, if you were not blind,
That lies cause harm and help the hateful,
They feed on hate but you don’t mind
The more lies, the more you will be grateful.
You will or, you will not know,
Your lies will cease with you on fire,
And this fire is eternal from below
With most lies dead, nice to inspire!
That lies are lies and cannot be hidden;
No truth in a lib’ral, I guarantee,
The Dhimmi lied but still says he didn’t.
You have seen, if you were not blind,
That lies cause harm and help the hateful,
They feed on hate but you don’t mind
The more lies, the more you will be grateful.
You will or, you will not know,
Your lies will cease with you on fire,
And this fire is eternal from below
With most lies dead, nice to inspire!
The Chinese Flags
I saw him lying on the ground,
His eyes were red and bad,
And something in them made me frown
For he had gone completely mad.
So, being of the nice guy type,
I stood and heard him spew
His hate for the flag waving hype
And the country for which it flew.
He shouted out how he was right,
No matter what the facts may be.
The Chinese made the flags at night
And gave them all to us for free.
I showed him he was wrong in facts
But that made not a diff’rence one.
He screamed and hollered to the max,
And said he would not be outdone.
I then observed, “What makes you lie
And prove yourself so dumb?”
The words I spoke he did defy
And to his lies he did succumb.
“Oh, no!” he said, “I do not think
My words are wrong, but true,
But when one’s soul is black as ink,
Such lies are easy to pursue.”
“You see, I am a lib’ral scum,
And certain things must be.
The waving of the flag for some,
Makes them think they’re all free.
“As a writer of free lance fame,
I know this all is just not right
It makes us lib’rals look so lame
And fills us full of fright!”
I told him he was full of crap,
Piled high as a forty foot mound,
And laughing hard at this dumb sap
I left him lying on the ground.
His eyes were red and bad,
And something in them made me frown
For he had gone completely mad.
So, being of the nice guy type,
I stood and heard him spew
His hate for the flag waving hype
And the country for which it flew.
He shouted out how he was right,
No matter what the facts may be.
The Chinese made the flags at night
And gave them all to us for free.
I showed him he was wrong in facts
But that made not a diff’rence one.
He screamed and hollered to the max,
And said he would not be outdone.
I then observed, “What makes you lie
And prove yourself so dumb?”
The words I spoke he did defy
And to his lies he did succumb.
“Oh, no!” he said, “I do not think
My words are wrong, but true,
But when one’s soul is black as ink,
Such lies are easy to pursue.”
“You see, I am a lib’ral scum,
And certain things must be.
The waving of the flag for some,
Makes them think they’re all free.
“As a writer of free lance fame,
I know this all is just not right
It makes us lib’rals look so lame
And fills us full of fright!”
I told him he was full of crap,
Piled high as a forty foot mound,
And laughing hard at this dumb sap
I left him lying on the ground.
The Guilty Lib’rals of the White
They live their lives in cottages and often on a hill
They mix with all the inhabitants and are never still
While marching up and down and saying how they feel
Others look at them but can’t see the hate they conceal
The pleasures of this hate is what they always write
For hate is their game - these guilty lib’rals of the white
They rant and rave and live among those they truly hate
Pointing fingers to and fro and never talking straight
Its all your fault there are problems in the land
Twas the great grandfather and his evil hand
He caused the evil and the current ugly blight
This great grandfather - guilty lib’ral of the white
The hatred fills their bellies while in weariness and pain
They crawl around the floor asking forgiveness once again.
When the white stars in the dark shines upon their oval eyes
They yell and shout their hate as they spread their stupid lies
“It is all our fault, see! - the stars say we are right.”
Putrid faces turned on high - these guilty lib’rals of the white
For them there’s no racism in what they say and think
It’s all their guilty trips that make them smile and wink
We’re the only ones, who really care about these folks
The guy who wrote this crap is trying for a hoax.
They will move among the folks they want to incite,
Priding themselves for being guilty lib’rals of the white
The folks they truly hate are the ones who give them guilt
So they stomp upon their rights and force them all to wilt
Their smiles and money flow as long as folks all vote
For the lib’ral white candidates of whom I wrote
You see it’s not about the care or the desire do what’s right,
It’s all about appeasing - the guilty lib’rals of the white
They mix with all the inhabitants and are never still
While marching up and down and saying how they feel
Others look at them but can’t see the hate they conceal
The pleasures of this hate is what they always write
For hate is their game - these guilty lib’rals of the white
They rant and rave and live among those they truly hate
Pointing fingers to and fro and never talking straight
Its all your fault there are problems in the land
Twas the great grandfather and his evil hand
He caused the evil and the current ugly blight
This great grandfather - guilty lib’ral of the white
The hatred fills their bellies while in weariness and pain
They crawl around the floor asking forgiveness once again.
When the white stars in the dark shines upon their oval eyes
They yell and shout their hate as they spread their stupid lies
“It is all our fault, see! - the stars say we are right.”
Putrid faces turned on high - these guilty lib’rals of the white
For them there’s no racism in what they say and think
It’s all their guilty trips that make them smile and wink
We’re the only ones, who really care about these folks
The guy who wrote this crap is trying for a hoax.
They will move among the folks they want to incite,
Priding themselves for being guilty lib’rals of the white
The folks they truly hate are the ones who give them guilt
So they stomp upon their rights and force them all to wilt
Their smiles and money flow as long as folks all vote
For the lib’ral white candidates of whom I wrote
You see it’s not about the care or the desire do what’s right,
It’s all about appeasing - the guilty lib’rals of the white
My Prayer
Keep me out of the lib’ral way
That the truth I will always pick;
I need protecting this very day,
The lib’rals lies all make me sick.
Banish these lies from my listening heart,
And all ugliness and Satanic tricks,
But most of all make it an art,
Destroying Dhimmi with my kicks.
That the truth I will always pick;
I need protecting this very day,
The lib’rals lies all make me sick.
Banish these lies from my listening heart,
And all ugliness and Satanic tricks,
But most of all make it an art,
Destroying Dhimmi with my kicks.
The Podunker Hill
I see the ignorance of the podunker Hill,
By the Washita River, flowing through;
The small-brained lib’ral sitting as the dew;
His morbid eyes red from his lies so shrill.
His sparse, weak, feeble brain sits still.
The empty logic focused cryptically on the view
Of Old Glory waving: red, white and blue;
And this flag waving stirs him to a hateful thrill
So much hate dwells within this lesser mind
This lib’ral more content with hate than works
Through the pledge words and the hate it irks,
Not the words, but in the cloth of any kind.
When the hate like this burst forth with such shrill
then we can all see the podunker Hill
By the Washita River, flowing through;
The small-brained lib’ral sitting as the dew;
His morbid eyes red from his lies so shrill.
His sparse, weak, feeble brain sits still.
The empty logic focused cryptically on the view
Of Old Glory waving: red, white and blue;
And this flag waving stirs him to a hateful thrill
So much hate dwells within this lesser mind
This lib’ral more content with hate than works
Through the pledge words and the hate it irks,
Not the words, but in the cloth of any kind.
When the hate like this burst forth with such shrill
then we can all see the podunker Hill
Brutal Thrill
His lying mouth was cramped and shrill
Hate had given its brutal thrill
His criticism of the written lines
Moved way beyond his standard whines.
You’re not capable, rhymed verse to write
This truth comes from the proof delight.
Your poetry sucks; you need to stop
You’ve written no poems, they’re all a flop.
He stated it clearly for all to hear
He is the greatest without peer
Writing poetry and stopping those
Who dared to send what they compose.
He has the proof to back his claim
No one will dare oppose his fame
His poems are known throughout the land
Everyone reads them, he is THE MAN!
Yet, with his fame and fortune gains
The hatred still flows within his veins.
So could it be the words above
Are nothing more than podunk crud.
Hate had given its brutal thrill
His criticism of the written lines
Moved way beyond his standard whines.
You’re not capable, rhymed verse to write
This truth comes from the proof delight.
Your poetry sucks; you need to stop
You’ve written no poems, they’re all a flop.
He stated it clearly for all to hear
He is the greatest without peer
Writing poetry and stopping those
Who dared to send what they compose.
He has the proof to back his claim
No one will dare oppose his fame
His poems are known throughout the land
Everyone reads them, he is THE MAN!
Yet, with his fame and fortune gains
The hatred still flows within his veins.
So could it be the words above
Are nothing more than podunk crud.
Many Things Forgotten
There are many things he has forgot,
Some he has stated, some he has not,
His lies especially have quickly come
The lies were copies, all were dumb.
These lies he sent were so defiled
Like the excrement from a child.
They all smelled bad and were so vile
Yet each one he told with a smile.
Among these lies he loved to ride,
With the Hate alone by your side
When caught in the lies he held fast
As a retarded onion looking aghast
When liar’s eyes show no regretful tears
It’s obvious he has done this for years;
And shadows of things that will never flee
Dance weird red, flickering in words of glee.
His words of lies will vanish soon
Like the unseen shadows at noon.
The lies will insure in this stupid game
His name will be snuffed like a dying flame.
The home of his childhood and the haunts of his prime
Will all be embarrassed by the shame of his time.
No one will know his words were lies
Except the one who judges and tries.
Some he has stated, some he has not,
His lies especially have quickly come
The lies were copies, all were dumb.
These lies he sent were so defiled
Like the excrement from a child.
They all smelled bad and were so vile
Yet each one he told with a smile.
Among these lies he loved to ride,
With the Hate alone by your side
When caught in the lies he held fast
As a retarded onion looking aghast
When liar’s eyes show no regretful tears
It’s obvious he has done this for years;
And shadows of things that will never flee
Dance weird red, flickering in words of glee.
His words of lies will vanish soon
Like the unseen shadows at noon.
The lies will insure in this stupid game
His name will be snuffed like a dying flame.
The home of his childhood and the haunts of his prime
Will all be embarrassed by the shame of his time.
No one will know his words were lies
Except the one who judges and tries.
Lib'ral Fool
Lib’ral! Poor fool.
You need more school
To show how you’re so wrong;
While nought you know
Of why it’s so
You simply go along.
Such lies, such hate,
An evil state,
Remorse you never show.
No truth, no light,
Dark blight!
You really think you know.
I wish, I wish
We both could fish
And I could make you understand
That all is well
If you would tell
The truth upon demand.
You need more school
To show how you’re so wrong;
While nought you know
Of why it’s so
You simply go along.
Such lies, such hate,
An evil state,
Remorse you never show.
No truth, no light,
Dark blight!
You really think you know.
I wish, I wish
We both could fish
And I could make you understand
That all is well
If you would tell
The truth upon demand.
Where Are All The Proofs
Where are all the proofs you essayed,
And where the truth you claimed to flow?
Where the real data you portrayed
For all the evidence for we to know?
Bush’s intel and Saddam’s woe?
Rather’s docs and Cheney’s gall?
The Plamed-out lies told by old Joe?
You have the proof, then show it all.
And where the truth you claimed to flow?
Where the real data you portrayed
For all the evidence for we to know?
Bush’s intel and Saddam’s woe?
Rather’s docs and Cheney’s gall?
The Plamed-out lies told by old Joe?
You have the proof, then show it all.
The Proud Liberal
There lived a lib’ral oh so proud
And a podunker man was he;
He had a love for lying loud
Loud he did and with smiling glee.
His lies were dark, wicked and mean
From deep within his wicked soul.
He spread his filth with words obscene
Sounding just like a lib’ral troll.
Such a troll is a dork enrolled
In a life deprived of the truth.
He spins a tale with Satan’s mold
And trims it with lib’ral abuse.
"I know more things than all mankind,
And I am an expert on war,
This is my word, I have defined
And anything else I’ll just ignore!"
He said the docs were real and true
But then we found they were all fake.
Fake, fake but true, he yelled anew.
So in his head the lie still was secure.
This is the joke of lib’ral rule
And podunkers who go along,
A lib’ral’s a liar and a fool
An axiom that’s never been proven wrong!
And a podunker man was he;
He had a love for lying loud
Loud he did and with smiling glee.
His lies were dark, wicked and mean
From deep within his wicked soul.
He spread his filth with words obscene
Sounding just like a lib’ral troll.
Such a troll is a dork enrolled
In a life deprived of the truth.
He spins a tale with Satan’s mold
And trims it with lib’ral abuse.
"I know more things than all mankind,
And I am an expert on war,
This is my word, I have defined
And anything else I’ll just ignore!"
He said the docs were real and true
But then we found they were all fake.
Fake, fake but true, he yelled anew.
So in his head the lie still was secure.
This is the joke of lib’ral rule
And podunkers who go along,
A lib’ral’s a liar and a fool
An axiom that’s never been proven wrong!
The Grandeur of Ignorance
Email! And now the grandeur of ignorance, felt,
Seen and read this email full of nonsense.
Slow-witted the prose like cheese does melt,
Gumming up my drives, once ordered bytes so dense,
Mangled with the disgusting lies against truth, so tense
With the dripping hate of words which Satan’s dealt.
And why should I, a truthful man, with this take offense?
Dare not game I the stone cold of the silent hour,
So you, the ignorance, think you have such fruitful plan.
Your face of skin so thick is the face of cower,
Your words of lies prove You are that of a lesser man
As the lies spewed forth onto the earth and ran,
Ugly and subtle and fierce with evasive power,
As though forced out from your smelly rectal gland.
The words of lies possessed by Satan pervades
The once clean air that surrounds us as we sleep.
Sinister, strong are the lies as the truth fades,
How long has it been from your lies not a weep?
A cancerous growth impregnating your soul so deep
Forever darkened from the light by the shades
Of the lies and the company I would never keep.
Your brain cannot hold the splendour of truthful fast;
It’s power to think has died from sinful play.
And the truth, triumphant when I send a blast
To you while you sit in your ridiculous sway.
But the might of the truth, with you betray,
Leave you with nothing but lies that cannot last;
But if there be those can see your sense, I can’t say.
For if anyone has read your stuff with sense and trust
And tried to decipher its meaning, as a vision or dream,
His lips are now and forever sealed as a dead man’s must,
And his heart is drained of his blood as in a stream.
For no one can read your junk of mystery that seem
To twist the words of darkness and spread the liar’s dust.
Shall a truthful man of faith, reading, try to guess your theme?
Is it fear and terror that circles you round, and invades
Each vein of your life with hate - with love not here?
Each word that sucks the blood of hate for decades
Each word that portrays the evil for all things near
Rekindles with a sense of hate you hold so dear.
Is truth so repulsive to you that it in you degrades
The very essence of your life gone astray? Is truth not here?
This truth that surely still lingers and brings the light,
The truth that speaks in the silence of your heart to see,
The sense, the power that it brings to those in the night,
Or the peace that comes to those who seek in it to be,
Surely, even you, a podunker, cannot give argue to me!
Alas! The shadows of darkness has allowed truth to take flight;
But not from all, ‘tis but an ignorant dream of only thee.
Seen and read this email full of nonsense.
Slow-witted the prose like cheese does melt,
Gumming up my drives, once ordered bytes so dense,
Mangled with the disgusting lies against truth, so tense
With the dripping hate of words which Satan’s dealt.
And why should I, a truthful man, with this take offense?
Dare not game I the stone cold of the silent hour,
So you, the ignorance, think you have such fruitful plan.
Your face of skin so thick is the face of cower,
Your words of lies prove You are that of a lesser man
As the lies spewed forth onto the earth and ran,
Ugly and subtle and fierce with evasive power,
As though forced out from your smelly rectal gland.
The words of lies possessed by Satan pervades
The once clean air that surrounds us as we sleep.
Sinister, strong are the lies as the truth fades,
How long has it been from your lies not a weep?
A cancerous growth impregnating your soul so deep
Forever darkened from the light by the shades
Of the lies and the company I would never keep.
Your brain cannot hold the splendour of truthful fast;
It’s power to think has died from sinful play.
And the truth, triumphant when I send a blast
To you while you sit in your ridiculous sway.
But the might of the truth, with you betray,
Leave you with nothing but lies that cannot last;
But if there be those can see your sense, I can’t say.
For if anyone has read your stuff with sense and trust
And tried to decipher its meaning, as a vision or dream,
His lips are now and forever sealed as a dead man’s must,
And his heart is drained of his blood as in a stream.
For no one can read your junk of mystery that seem
To twist the words of darkness and spread the liar’s dust.
Shall a truthful man of faith, reading, try to guess your theme?
Is it fear and terror that circles you round, and invades
Each vein of your life with hate - with love not here?
Each word that sucks the blood of hate for decades
Each word that portrays the evil for all things near
Rekindles with a sense of hate you hold so dear.
Is truth so repulsive to you that it in you degrades
The very essence of your life gone astray? Is truth not here?
This truth that surely still lingers and brings the light,
The truth that speaks in the silence of your heart to see,
The sense, the power that it brings to those in the night,
Or the peace that comes to those who seek in it to be,
Surely, even you, a podunker, cannot give argue to me!
Alas! The shadows of darkness has allowed truth to take flight;
But not from all, ‘tis but an ignorant dream of only thee.
Absolute Truth
No matter the lies the lib’rals may bring
Or when they come in and destroy everything
The truth is what matters so don’t be betrayed
Keep with the facts, don’t let them evade
Hard times will come, with lib’rals its true
Just step back and think of what really matters to you
The truth will be there and show you the way
That no matter what happens; truth will win at the end of the day
Absolute truth is the answer for you
Relative moralism is simply not true
Hold on to the truth it won’t let you down
Lib’rals like dhimmi will stomp you into the ground
In the end it won’t matter who stomped on you
The ones who stomped will be proven untrue
Those who hold truth will still be around
Helping you up when stomped to the ground
So the next time someone stomps you
And blames it on your view
This truth is an axiom and true absolute
All lib’rals are liars and evil to boot
Or when they come in and destroy everything
The truth is what matters so don’t be betrayed
Keep with the facts, don’t let them evade
Hard times will come, with lib’rals its true
Just step back and think of what really matters to you
The truth will be there and show you the way
That no matter what happens; truth will win at the end of the day
Absolute truth is the answer for you
Relative moralism is simply not true
Hold on to the truth it won’t let you down
Lib’rals like dhimmi will stomp you into the ground
In the end it won’t matter who stomped on you
The ones who stomped will be proven untrue
Those who hold truth will still be around
Helping you up when stomped to the ground
So the next time someone stomps you
And blames it on your view
This truth is an axiom and true absolute
All lib’rals are liars and evil to boot
The Ultimate Prize
The coward liberals grew scared and daunted;
Their lies and rants scarce could stop the truth.
These lies once had rolled across ramparts vaunted,
Like the lies they spread while in their youth.
This truth cried out from every news and media box
The surge is working, spreading freedom in Iraq.
“Cannot be true,” each liberal yelled, face of pox.
Al Qaeda is losing? How can we pay them back?
Day after day, night after night,
From terrorist to terrorists the liberals went,
With money for the terrorists’ fight
Giving them great encouragement.
The liberals vowed to fight the surge,
For no other thing was more urgent,
Than stopping the defeat about to emerge
So sent more money to the insurgent.
Then, as the days moved on to weeks,
It was an ugly sight to see
These liberals lying through their cheeks
Spinning and twisting truth so free,
Blabbing in course, untruthful tones,
Resting their heads on each others’ thighs.
And listening to each others miserable moans
Sucking for lies as the ultimate prize.
These poor dumb liberals gathered in groups,
The surge kept working, how will it end?
They were so sure if they attacked our troops
Their friends the terrorists would surely win.
But our soldiers and Iraqis would not let it be:
And destroyed the murderers one and all,
And now as I roam from land to sea,
The liberal lies, I will always recall
And our great victory for all the Iraqi.
Their lies and rants scarce could stop the truth.
These lies once had rolled across ramparts vaunted,
Like the lies they spread while in their youth.
This truth cried out from every news and media box
The surge is working, spreading freedom in Iraq.
“Cannot be true,” each liberal yelled, face of pox.
Al Qaeda is losing? How can we pay them back?
Day after day, night after night,
From terrorist to terrorists the liberals went,
With money for the terrorists’ fight
Giving them great encouragement.
The liberals vowed to fight the surge,
For no other thing was more urgent,
Than stopping the defeat about to emerge
So sent more money to the insurgent.
Then, as the days moved on to weeks,
It was an ugly sight to see
These liberals lying through their cheeks
Spinning and twisting truth so free,
Blabbing in course, untruthful tones,
Resting their heads on each others’ thighs.
And listening to each others miserable moans
Sucking for lies as the ultimate prize.
These poor dumb liberals gathered in groups,
The surge kept working, how will it end?
They were so sure if they attacked our troops
Their friends the terrorists would surely win.
But our soldiers and Iraqis would not let it be:
And destroyed the murderers one and all,
And now as I roam from land to sea,
The liberal lies, I will always recall
And our great victory for all the Iraqi.
Liar's Ground
I walked upon the liars’ ground,
Where all the lib’rals live and play.
How did they have the time to find
All the lies they spread every day?
My brother lives in such a place,
Lying in each and every mail.
Does he not know about disgrace
When following in Satan’s trail?
I read his words and can’t believe
My brother lies with so much glee.
Can he really be this naive?
He'll just end up as terrorist debris!
Where all the lib’rals live and play.
How did they have the time to find
All the lies they spread every day?
My brother lives in such a place,
Lying in each and every mail.
Does he not know about disgrace
When following in Satan’s trail?
I read his words and can’t believe
My brother lies with so much glee.
Can he really be this naive?
He'll just end up as terrorist debris!
You’ve Seen Them Too
Lib’ral liars
You’ve seen them too
Baby killers
Without a clue
Weak kneed and disgusting
No integrity or pride
Hate-filled lusting
For ole Satan inside
Jealous and evil
They’ve sold their lives
To the garbage called liberal
And all that implies
They stand only for hate
Against all that is right
They can never debate
Because none are too bright
Yeh, there’s something missing
It’s called brains and respect
Respect for those willing
For democracy to protect
This poem is real
Not a copy or fake
It might be ideal
Poems - you do not partake
You’ve seen them too
Baby killers
Without a clue
Weak kneed and disgusting
No integrity or pride
Hate-filled lusting
For ole Satan inside
Jealous and evil
They’ve sold their lives
To the garbage called liberal
And all that implies
They stand only for hate
Against all that is right
They can never debate
Because none are too bright
Yeh, there’s something missing
It’s called brains and respect
Respect for those willing
For democracy to protect
This poem is real
Not a copy or fake
It might be ideal
Poems - you do not partake
Liars’ Game
Liars like to advertise their game,
Unleashing words that prove their shame.
Truth can little do but bide its time,
Letting liars continue with their crime,
Of lib’ral hate and podunk fame.
Soon, truth will ride in on the flame,
Stripping lies that show who's to blame.
Unleashing words that prove their shame.
Truth can little do but bide its time,
Letting liars continue with their crime,
Of lib’ral hate and podunk fame.
Soon, truth will ride in on the flame,
Stripping lies that show who's to blame.
A Book Review
It is easy to write a book review
‘Specially of a book not read
Write words from what you knew
Someone else has already said
Make sure you lie and tout
Your hate-filled ugly views
Of the author and what she’s all about
Make sure you add the news
That you hate her without a doubt
Then tell them all just how you knew
The book is a big waste of air
By telling the brand of shampoo
She used to wash her hair
‘Specially of a book not read
Write words from what you knew
Someone else has already said
Make sure you lie and tout
Your hate-filled ugly views
Of the author and what she’s all about
Make sure you add the news
That you hate her without a doubt
Then tell them all just how you knew
The book is a big waste of air
By telling the brand of shampoo
She used to wash her hair
Bounced Truth
The truth you wrote has bounced
It was a forgery all the way
You have no truth but you announced
The truth would be the pay
You lied about your truth account
Your bank is full of fraud
You said you had the right amount
And promised no defraud
You are a lib’ral and you lied
A dirtbag and a thief
The truth you simply can’t abide
No pity, no relief
The truth you wrote has bounced again
This time you fooled no one
The words you tell, will all contain
No truth - which shows what you have done
Your checks of truth bounced higher
Each time you sent us one or two
We all know now that you are the liar
Who told us your words were true
So take your checks and place them well
Away from sun or moon
Cause we know you and we will tell
What you can do with this old tune
It was a forgery all the way
You have no truth but you announced
The truth would be the pay
You lied about your truth account
Your bank is full of fraud
You said you had the right amount
And promised no defraud
You are a lib’ral and you lied
A dirtbag and a thief
The truth you simply can’t abide
No pity, no relief
The truth you wrote has bounced again
This time you fooled no one
The words you tell, will all contain
No truth - which shows what you have done
Your checks of truth bounced higher
Each time you sent us one or two
We all know now that you are the liar
Who told us your words were true
So take your checks and place them well
Away from sun or moon
Cause we know you and we will tell
What you can do with this old tune
The Darling Of The Fools
Little Dhimmi was the darling of the liberal fools,
He wrote about the flag, the war and the rules.
The joy of the fools, his ego’s delight;
So ugly was his soul, and his methods of spite;
No fool had surpass’d, or perhaps ever can,
Of liberal fools this one the podunk man.
His lies were so sinful, unaided by smart;
And dumb his demeanour, as spiteful his heart;
His dulled eyes a stupid flash so bedeck’d,
And fool’s sickened words by hate lightly check’d;
On his chin Laden hair had grown on his face,
And his mind never confessed the stupidity, a disgrace.
Though with truth beset, yet his brother knew,
As his ignorance was matchless, his heart was untrue,
So evil he went to attack the truth; while his brother.
His fears for this fool made him think and to shudder.
Full oft, in the gloom of reading the fool’s mail
Would shake his head in amusement to no avail.
One evening so gloomy, when the fool ranted on,
About how war wasn’t war and on wasn’t on,
The fool, whose hate was for all who didn’t agree
By a newly-made word pile, sat down full of glee.
But before he could number his lies to began
Up jumped a word still fresh from his gland.
Its hue it was deadly, its smell it was vast,
Brown and pale were its colors, that held his eyes fast.
He shriek’d a loud shriek, so delighted was he
But grimly it melted, as it rolled off his knee.
With a voice that dismay’d us, he jumped up and cried;
“That was my liberal brain! And its came from inside!”
He jumped into the word pile and gazed all around;
He grabbed and he yelled until he sunk to the ground;
With fear and with fright at what had occurred,
Though lost to his sight was the big lying word
The big lying word he tried to devour
So loudly he cried, “I’ll just make one this hour!”
Then up came a lying word, so smelly and soft,
And hit the fool's gray face just as he coughed.
His gray face extruded of lying word goo;
As the word left his lips it filled his mouth with pooh.
And the fool just sat laughing as it covered his face,
For he knew that he’d soon be back on pace.
Dark, dark was the pooh, that flowed from his lips,
For all of his lies, he now knew he would eclipse.
The moral of this tale for those who are clueless
Don’t spread pooh around unless you want a mess.
If you’re a fool, and love to tell lies
Go find a word and shove it up your thighs.
He wrote about the flag, the war and the rules.
The joy of the fools, his ego’s delight;
So ugly was his soul, and his methods of spite;
No fool had surpass’d, or perhaps ever can,
Of liberal fools this one the podunk man.
His lies were so sinful, unaided by smart;
And dumb his demeanour, as spiteful his heart;
His dulled eyes a stupid flash so bedeck’d,
And fool’s sickened words by hate lightly check’d;
On his chin Laden hair had grown on his face,
And his mind never confessed the stupidity, a disgrace.
Though with truth beset, yet his brother knew,
As his ignorance was matchless, his heart was untrue,
So evil he went to attack the truth; while his brother.
His fears for this fool made him think and to shudder.
Full oft, in the gloom of reading the fool’s mail
Would shake his head in amusement to no avail.
One evening so gloomy, when the fool ranted on,
About how war wasn’t war and on wasn’t on,
The fool, whose hate was for all who didn’t agree
By a newly-made word pile, sat down full of glee.
But before he could number his lies to began
Up jumped a word still fresh from his gland.
Its hue it was deadly, its smell it was vast,
Brown and pale were its colors, that held his eyes fast.
He shriek’d a loud shriek, so delighted was he
But grimly it melted, as it rolled off his knee.
With a voice that dismay’d us, he jumped up and cried;
“That was my liberal brain! And its came from inside!”
He jumped into the word pile and gazed all around;
He grabbed and he yelled until he sunk to the ground;
With fear and with fright at what had occurred,
Though lost to his sight was the big lying word
The big lying word he tried to devour
So loudly he cried, “I’ll just make one this hour!”
Then up came a lying word, so smelly and soft,
And hit the fool's gray face just as he coughed.
His gray face extruded of lying word goo;
As the word left his lips it filled his mouth with pooh.
And the fool just sat laughing as it covered his face,
For he knew that he’d soon be back on pace.
Dark, dark was the pooh, that flowed from his lips,
For all of his lies, he now knew he would eclipse.
The moral of this tale for those who are clueless
Don’t spread pooh around unless you want a mess.
If you’re a fool, and love to tell lies
Go find a word and shove it up your thighs.
Strangled Truth
Your lies have rolled down from your lips;
And ruthlessly strangled the truth;
And with such hate your lies eclipse,
Those you told in your youth.
Each lie you tell will serve you well
On your trip to Satan’s abode.
Don’t waste my time by your dispel
Of the truth of this episode.
Each time you lie, I prove you wrong;
But you can’t remember this fact.
You repeat the lie as if in a song
And your brain’s not really intact.
Has some dark hand throttled your spine?
Some slimy tongue slipped down your throat
Stopping the blood flow to your mind?
You're wrong for your lies and what you promote
Making you a lib’ral dote!
And ruthlessly strangled the truth;
And with such hate your lies eclipse,
Those you told in your youth.
Each lie you tell will serve you well
On your trip to Satan’s abode.
Don’t waste my time by your dispel
Of the truth of this episode.
Each time you lie, I prove you wrong;
But you can’t remember this fact.
You repeat the lie as if in a song
And your brain’s not really intact.
Has some dark hand throttled your spine?
Some slimy tongue slipped down your throat
Stopping the blood flow to your mind?
You're wrong for your lies and what you promote
Making you a lib’ral dote!
The Free Lance Writer
Whenever the Dhimmi Dale goes to town,
The people on the streets stare down on him.
He was a big liar from sole to crown,
Ugly, unshaven and filthy dhim,
And he was always spreading his lies;
And he was always nasty when he talked.
But still the hate spewed out when he said,
“I hate America,” as he walked.
And he was dumb, yes, dumber than Carter
And uneducated in every way.
We knew he was not getting smarter,
So we were glad he left each day.
So on we lived and enjoyed our rights
And were glad he was never brighter.
And Dhimmi Dale, during the calm summer nights,
Went home and declared he was a free lance writer.
The people on the streets stare down on him.
He was a big liar from sole to crown,
Ugly, unshaven and filthy dhim,
And he was always spreading his lies;
And he was always nasty when he talked.
But still the hate spewed out when he said,
“I hate America,” as he walked.
And he was dumb, yes, dumber than Carter
And uneducated in every way.
We knew he was not getting smarter,
So we were glad he left each day.
So on we lived and enjoyed our rights
And were glad he was never brighter.
And Dhimmi Dale, during the calm summer nights,
Went home and declared he was a free lance writer.
Of Liberal Gods
Hey, let us walk from liar to liar,
From their hate-filled hearts of evil delight,
To the halls of power with satanic desire,
Too good am I to join such endless blight
Asking how to gain the power of old
By speaking their lies for mounds of gold.
For them to feel is better than to know,
And truth is a spurious, useless heritage,
One pulse to feel - the truth! They told us so.
They state this fact as if from the sage:
Vex not they soul with dead philosophy,
Trust not the facts but what the heart can see!
Do you not hear the lying liberals assail
Like water stagnant in a broken jar,
So putrid it smells from fermented urine pale,
That stinks high upon the clouds so far
The facts not heard from such a smelly tune,
Hear how they lie from within the liars’ swoon.
Huge lies, from the lips of liberal’s shallow dream
The fallen men no matter from freedom’s breeze
Captures the weak podunker in its theme.
Of all the soulless, evil ideas of man’s endeavour
The liberal one, the vilest, a festering sore.
Alas! The liberals will give naught a care for their eternal store.
For these same liberals have sick and evil grown
Of truth and evidence,— they dare not please.
For when the lies of satanic plans become known
By pain or prayer or truth, they’ll never on their knees
Ask for anything other than the foulest ill
Befall those who dared to oppose their evil will.
They sit at ease, these liberals they sit at ease,
Spreading their lies to reach all mankind,
They smile the liar smile of a cold disease
With an endless line of those who they find,
Doing the deeds of the very ones they knew
What evil things the heart of man could dream then do.
And far beneath their exalted stand, they see
Like annoying gnats the crowd of other men,
The worth of which they grow so weary
Back to their selfish haunts they turn again
Kissing each other’s mouths, in prideful feel,
Their lie-induced harmony covers the truth they dare not deal.
There all day long the liars sing their song,
Their podunker, stands with his eyes a-blaze,
And when the evil web of lies are spun
He laps them up through a crimson haze
Of blood fresh from those who played the tune
And did the evil things from within the liars’ swoon.
There comes the Clinton Queen upon the liar’s steed,
Her huge black lies flowed down like putrid crust
Of day-old slime, while the one who tried with her to breed
Leaps up and down sucking at her urine dust,
His greed surpasses even hers, as if he too can share
All the young girls available for her so fair.
There in the side room of the liberals’ boast
King Obama, all his names he tries to hide,
His warm black body for the guilty pose
Which would be white but loses all its pride,
Laughs low for this joke, a stealthy al Qaedist
As he peers through evidence of this evil bliss.
O think of it! The enemy within the gates wide
To whom we can all run and give great fawn,
The Uniter, a true spirit of diversity to turn the tide
Who’ll lead us through to the morning dawn.
Upon his name, shall it not be more clear?
There was no war and that is what we all shall hear.
But for this dream of certain end, reality burst out
And with it the terrorists, for the war will show
That the liberals are liars, beyond any doubt.
As their lies cause the deaths by thousand grow,
They paint their lies on the backs of the dead,
Which to us the real Americans, we’ll vote for FRED.
From their hate-filled hearts of evil delight,
To the halls of power with satanic desire,
Too good am I to join such endless blight
Asking how to gain the power of old
By speaking their lies for mounds of gold.
For them to feel is better than to know,
And truth is a spurious, useless heritage,
One pulse to feel - the truth! They told us so.
They state this fact as if from the sage:
Vex not they soul with dead philosophy,
Trust not the facts but what the heart can see!
Do you not hear the lying liberals assail
Like water stagnant in a broken jar,
So putrid it smells from fermented urine pale,
That stinks high upon the clouds so far
The facts not heard from such a smelly tune,
Hear how they lie from within the liars’ swoon.
Huge lies, from the lips of liberal’s shallow dream
The fallen men no matter from freedom’s breeze
Captures the weak podunker in its theme.
Of all the soulless, evil ideas of man’s endeavour
The liberal one, the vilest, a festering sore.
Alas! The liberals will give naught a care for their eternal store.
For these same liberals have sick and evil grown
Of truth and evidence,— they dare not please.
For when the lies of satanic plans become known
By pain or prayer or truth, they’ll never on their knees
Ask for anything other than the foulest ill
Befall those who dared to oppose their evil will.
They sit at ease, these liberals they sit at ease,
Spreading their lies to reach all mankind,
They smile the liar smile of a cold disease
With an endless line of those who they find,
Doing the deeds of the very ones they knew
What evil things the heart of man could dream then do.
And far beneath their exalted stand, they see
Like annoying gnats the crowd of other men,
The worth of which they grow so weary
Back to their selfish haunts they turn again
Kissing each other’s mouths, in prideful feel,
Their lie-induced harmony covers the truth they dare not deal.
There all day long the liars sing their song,
Their podunker, stands with his eyes a-blaze,
And when the evil web of lies are spun
He laps them up through a crimson haze
Of blood fresh from those who played the tune
And did the evil things from within the liars’ swoon.
There comes the Clinton Queen upon the liar’s steed,
Her huge black lies flowed down like putrid crust
Of day-old slime, while the one who tried with her to breed
Leaps up and down sucking at her urine dust,
His greed surpasses even hers, as if he too can share
All the young girls available for her so fair.
There in the side room of the liberals’ boast
King Obama, all his names he tries to hide,
His warm black body for the guilty pose
Which would be white but loses all its pride,
Laughs low for this joke, a stealthy al Qaedist
As he peers through evidence of this evil bliss.
O think of it! The enemy within the gates wide
To whom we can all run and give great fawn,
The Uniter, a true spirit of diversity to turn the tide
Who’ll lead us through to the morning dawn.
Upon his name, shall it not be more clear?
There was no war and that is what we all shall hear.
But for this dream of certain end, reality burst out
And with it the terrorists, for the war will show
That the liberals are liars, beyond any doubt.
As their lies cause the deaths by thousand grow,
They paint their lies on the backs of the dead,
Which to us the real Americans, we’ll vote for FRED.
I Got A Brother
Got a brother
He’s like no other
He’s not too shy
To tell a lie
He thinks he knows
All about prose
Goes to Walmarts
Looking for smarts
China expert
Concept pervert
Believes he’s right
Knows not his plight
Spends time to read
Does not succeed
Hates the Iraqis
Loves his lackeys
Supports “The Base”
Full of disgrace
Discounts creative
Upholds probative
Has no ethics
In academics
Hates this poet
But can’t show it
He’s like no other
He’s not too shy
To tell a lie
He thinks he knows
All about prose
Goes to Walmarts
Looking for smarts
China expert
Concept pervert
Believes he’s right
Knows not his plight
Spends time to read
Does not succeed
Hates the Iraqis
Loves his lackeys
Supports “The Base”
Full of disgrace
Discounts creative
Upholds probative
Has no ethics
In academics
Hates this poet
But can’t show it
The Liar’s Crime
He’s singing the song of the liar’s crime
And cares not for the truthful rhyme
The lies of his words are proven each time
Yet he continues to spread the slime
What is it about the liberal way
That causes so many to play
At first each one has something say
But later the truth they betray
So many lies have been spewed out
One sees why they always must shout
The lies prove what they’re all about
These liars the country can do without
And cares not for the truthful rhyme
The lies of his words are proven each time
Yet he continues to spread the slime
What is it about the liberal way
That causes so many to play
At first each one has something say
But later the truth they betray
So many lies have been spewed out
One sees why they always must shout
The lies prove what they’re all about
These liars the country can do without
A September Night
The September night arrives with another lie as before
Except for a desire to laugh, I sit reading at ease
I open the email and double click the icon once more.
I feel like I am reading someone on his hands and knees.
“Bush is a liar, has murdered my innocent terrorists.”
“The turkey was plastic and you live with the Chinese.”
Mmmm, I muse, sounds like words from lib’ral Satanists.
“Perhaps you can prove your allegations.”
The logic flowed as I penned this request.
Of course, I wrote with low expectations
Knowing that all lib’rals lie, hist’ry can attest.
Never mind, I thought as I hit the “send”.
Just another September night dealing with lies.
I do live in China and that he did portend,
But the rest was lib’ral lies something I despise!
Within a few minutes, stone cold silence hits
My computer freezes over from an idiot response
The email also proves that my axiom really fits:
All lib’rals lie and scheme in so much nonchalance.
The lib’rals refuse to act as if they’re human beings
What can one make of an email filled with silence
From a dhimmi who loves to lie as do all the lib’ral lemmings.
The answer comes to mind: execute or deport this very instance.
Except for a desire to laugh, I sit reading at ease
I open the email and double click the icon once more.
I feel like I am reading someone on his hands and knees.
“Bush is a liar, has murdered my innocent terrorists.”
“The turkey was plastic and you live with the Chinese.”
Mmmm, I muse, sounds like words from lib’ral Satanists.
“Perhaps you can prove your allegations.”
The logic flowed as I penned this request.
Of course, I wrote with low expectations
Knowing that all lib’rals lie, hist’ry can attest.
Never mind, I thought as I hit the “send”.
Just another September night dealing with lies.
I do live in China and that he did portend,
But the rest was lib’ral lies something I despise!
Within a few minutes, stone cold silence hits
My computer freezes over from an idiot response
The email also proves that my axiom really fits:
All lib’rals lie and scheme in so much nonchalance.
The lib’rals refuse to act as if they’re human beings
What can one make of an email filled with silence
From a dhimmi who loves to lie as do all the lib’ral lemmings.
The answer comes to mind: execute or deport this very instance.
Another Day Of Ignorance
Another day of ignorance,
A glorious sun and sky,
But all for naught with this offense
The lies are passing by.
In lib’ral chants and on the press,
Without a care so trite,
They repeat the lies with peacefulness,
Their words are never right.
The lies are richly done, like silk,
Core covered with sweet words fair
And sound as pure as fresh poured milk
If it wasn’t for the harm they bare.
Each lie of the same old style
That long ago proved fake,
They must be stupid all the while
Thinking we would take the cake.
The truth’s not here from days gone by
The lies are now their best
Their guilt and shame are carried high
As if by sin obsessed;
As each one speaks - out come the lies
The lies of hate or worse.
On every day throughout the years,
The lies cause them to curse.
Although the truth is always free,
They choose not to partake.
They love the lies to spread with glee.
And never admit a mistake.
Instinctively, they cheer the dead
Caused by al Qaeda in Iraq.
This is what they’ve always said.
These are people whom we mock.
They have not known the cold and heat
And the reality of the fight.
None has felt the sting of defeat
But think they deserve that right
To lie and spread the words of hate
Among the ones who do the deeds.
They call themselves “elite,”
But not so long ago
They were communists of deceit
Pushing treason and woe.
Now they cover these words reversed
But still to al Qaeda give support,
And smear and slander with the worst.
What we should do? Execute or deport.
A glorious sun and sky,
But all for naught with this offense
The lies are passing by.
In lib’ral chants and on the press,
Without a care so trite,
They repeat the lies with peacefulness,
Their words are never right.
The lies are richly done, like silk,
Core covered with sweet words fair
And sound as pure as fresh poured milk
If it wasn’t for the harm they bare.
Each lie of the same old style
That long ago proved fake,
They must be stupid all the while
Thinking we would take the cake.
The truth’s not here from days gone by
The lies are now their best
Their guilt and shame are carried high
As if by sin obsessed;
As each one speaks - out come the lies
The lies of hate or worse.
On every day throughout the years,
The lies cause them to curse.
Although the truth is always free,
They choose not to partake.
They love the lies to spread with glee.
And never admit a mistake.
Instinctively, they cheer the dead
Caused by al Qaeda in Iraq.
This is what they’ve always said.
These are people whom we mock.
They have not known the cold and heat
And the reality of the fight.
None has felt the sting of defeat
But think they deserve that right
To lie and spread the words of hate
Among the ones who do the deeds.
They call themselves “elite,”
But not so long ago
They were communists of deceit
Pushing treason and woe.
Now they cover these words reversed
But still to al Qaeda give support,
And smear and slander with the worst.
What we should do? Execute or deport.
A Sorry Story
NOW think you well, you liars dear,
These words which I shall write;
A sorry story you shall hear,
In time brought forth to light.
A podunker of low account
In Podunk dwelt of late,
Who did in lying far surmount
Most men in his small state.
Insane he was and did oft lie,
About which he knew were true;
His bud told him he just might fry,
For things in life you do.
No words were heard by this dumbass,
So typical of his kind;
In lies he lives, with lies he’ll pass,
Unable to wipe his behind:
He cries and screams when with critique
About the junk he writes.
Your poems are hateful he would shriek
Referring to my great insights.
Only I am published he blurted out
And thus I know your junk.
But all he did was sit and spout
The lies of the lib’ral podunk!
These words which I shall write;
A sorry story you shall hear,
In time brought forth to light.
A podunker of low account
In Podunk dwelt of late,
Who did in lying far surmount
Most men in his small state.
Insane he was and did oft lie,
About which he knew were true;
His bud told him he just might fry,
For things in life you do.
No words were heard by this dumbass,
So typical of his kind;
In lies he lives, with lies he’ll pass,
Unable to wipe his behind:
He cries and screams when with critique
About the junk he writes.
Your poems are hateful he would shriek
Referring to my great insights.
Only I am published he blurted out
And thus I know your junk.
But all he did was sit and spout
The lies of the lib’ral podunk!
A Mellowing Experience
Give him no frozen or mellow disdain
For he has accomplished miracles great
This gives him the right to lie once again
Since these miracles were done of late
Such lies can be washed away by such acts
Regardless of their ugly smears
Do some good or fake all the facts
And never worry about what Satan cheers
He is the only one to do some good
At least in his own shallow mind
The rest of us just sit around if we could
Doing mellow work of some kind
For he has accomplished miracles great
This gives him the right to lie once again
Since these miracles were done of late
Such lies can be washed away by such acts
Regardless of their ugly smears
Do some good or fake all the facts
And never worry about what Satan cheers
He is the only one to do some good
At least in his own shallow mind
The rest of us just sit around if we could
Doing mellow work of some kind
Mockery
Geez! What mockery are these lies you tell!
Cast forth in hate and pain from your ugly tongue,
Most like an excrement, straight from hell
Senseless comments: unreasoned, ugly dung,
The symbol of Satan’s minions all unsung.
Your lies, upon earth, fight the truth in toil.
You push, you strive, you work with the worst
To deprive the truth of its place by turmoil.
The hatred you bear cannot slake the thirst
Of those who are known as the Satan’s cursed.
In vain you will rationalize your hateful way
As you barter your soul for greed so cold.
When you sit down at the liar’s buffet
Remember it’s truth that’s just been sold.
And you’ve done it all without a blindfold.
Cast forth in hate and pain from your ugly tongue,
Most like an excrement, straight from hell
Senseless comments: unreasoned, ugly dung,
The symbol of Satan’s minions all unsung.
Your lies, upon earth, fight the truth in toil.
You push, you strive, you work with the worst
To deprive the truth of its place by turmoil.
The hatred you bear cannot slake the thirst
Of those who are known as the Satan’s cursed.
In vain you will rationalize your hateful way
As you barter your soul for greed so cold.
When you sit down at the liar’s buffet
Remember it’s truth that’s just been sold.
And you’ve done it all without a blindfold.
My Vomit Box
As lies come out when days are bright
A vomit box is my delight
I sit around with just this thing
And reconstruct a chicken wing
Before your lies have come and gone
I sat so peaceful no truth undone
But from your lips the lies have spread
And then with shame you went to bed
Your current lies raise such a smell
The liars' stench from Satan's hell.
Each one you spoke with such a rant
Think maybe you were arrogant?
The flag of colors flies on high
Your hatred for it does apply
Arms upraised in a Nazi sign
Ignorant lib'rals undermine.
The flag you say is just a rag
Flies for me but for you a drag.
Your hateful words no more deserve
To be remembered or even heard.
The sickened belch of your swaggered lies
Remind me of the truth you despise.
As winter rolls upon your fall
The words you spew make you so small.
There are in China special words
For liars who spew forth such turds.
These words are simple; not to hard,
But the words don't mean a poet bard.
A vomit box is my delight
I sit around with just this thing
And reconstruct a chicken wing
Before your lies have come and gone
I sat so peaceful no truth undone
But from your lips the lies have spread
And then with shame you went to bed
Your current lies raise such a smell
The liars' stench from Satan's hell.
Each one you spoke with such a rant
Think maybe you were arrogant?
The flag of colors flies on high
Your hatred for it does apply
Arms upraised in a Nazi sign
Ignorant lib'rals undermine.
The flag you say is just a rag
Flies for me but for you a drag.
Your hateful words no more deserve
To be remembered or even heard.
The sickened belch of your swaggered lies
Remind me of the truth you despise.
As winter rolls upon your fall
The words you spew make you so small.
There are in China special words
For liars who spew forth such turds.
These words are simple; not to hard,
But the words don't mean a poet bard.
Road Kill
They sit on the wrong side of right
Badmouthing and slandering good.
They live for hate in evil spite
To destroy America if they could.
They are the liars of the left,
These creeping, slimy little turds.
They lie but with remorse bereft.
They - the enemy, mark my words.
They hate the flag with all its stars,
Ignoring the truth; embracing the lies
All are road kill, flattened by cars,
Brainless robots (with all that implies).
Badmouthing and slandering good.
They live for hate in evil spite
To destroy America if they could.
They are the liars of the left,
These creeping, slimy little turds.
They lie but with remorse bereft.
They - the enemy, mark my words.
They hate the flag with all its stars,
Ignoring the truth; embracing the lies
All are road kill, flattened by cars,
Brainless robots (with all that implies).
The World Of Little Dhimmis
The world of little Dhimmis
Is a place where you will find
A bunch of lying stories
To jumble up your mind
To stimulate your evil side;
Leave truth behind.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
He came from out of podunkville,
As do all liars, it seems.
His lies have made the world aware
That liars have liberals genes;
And truths that we hold sacred
He’ll squander is his dreams.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
A lib’ral by our definition
Is a virus of the mind.
His dreams are his source
For lib’rals of this kind,
Which glorify the lib’ral, of course,
Who turns out to be blind.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
His lies are always extended
In a novel point view.
It shows us how the lies affect
Beyond just me and you.
The world will always respond
To the biggest lie’s debut.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
The river out of Washita
Flows beside this liar’s place
He spreads his lies oh so far
To all the human race.
It’s possible you’ve heard these lies
And even bought their guise.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
In trying to find the thing that’s real
Your chances may look bleak
Perhaps the dhimmi’s done a deal
With the very thing you seek.
But never mind what dhimmi says
He’s flunked the truthful quiz.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
Is a place where you will find
A bunch of lying stories
To jumble up your mind
To stimulate your evil side;
Leave truth behind.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
He came from out of podunkville,
As do all liars, it seems.
His lies have made the world aware
That liars have liberals genes;
And truths that we hold sacred
He’ll squander is his dreams.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
A lib’ral by our definition
Is a virus of the mind.
His dreams are his source
For lib’rals of this kind,
Which glorify the lib’ral, of course,
Who turns out to be blind.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
His lies are always extended
In a novel point view.
It shows us how the lies affect
Beyond just me and you.
The world will always respond
To the biggest lie’s debut.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
The river out of Washita
Flows beside this liar’s place
He spreads his lies oh so far
To all the human race.
It’s possible you’ve heard these lies
And even bought their guise.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
In trying to find the thing that’s real
Your chances may look bleak
Perhaps the dhimmi’s done a deal
With the very thing you seek.
But never mind what dhimmi says
He’s flunked the truthful quiz.
O, be ready for the cunning lie,
Lies full of hatred.
O, be ready for the cunning lie.
The Liar's Brand
This podunk boy, with lib’ral woes
Thinks he writes exceptional prose
“I’m published,” he loves to disclose
And all things right he does oppose
He claims I write these lines from hate
And they are silly and do not rate
His is a master with words so great
And to this known fact there is no debate
Unfortunately for this brilliant podunk
His words are hollow, full of bunk
He writes as if he is half drunk
Spewing nonsense and other junk
I’ve read his stuff and it is bland
Lib’ral crap from his podunk gland
He writes the lies as on demand
The living proof of his liar’s brand
Thinks he writes exceptional prose
“I’m published,” he loves to disclose
And all things right he does oppose
He claims I write these lines from hate
And they are silly and do not rate
His is a master with words so great
And to this known fact there is no debate
Unfortunately for this brilliant podunk
His words are hollow, full of bunk
He writes as if he is half drunk
Spewing nonsense and other junk
I’ve read his stuff and it is bland
Lib’ral crap from his podunk gland
He writes the lies as on demand
The living proof of his liar’s brand
Sophomoric Verses
Living in self-made delusions;
Surrounded by a shroud of lies;
Enclosed by false conclusions;
Drowning in the truth you despise.
This sophomoric truth rises,
Alive, unable to breech
Your hatred, no surprises.
But still you preach!
Sophomoric poems you say?
Truth will never rely on you,
Unable to poetically convery
A thought or concept new.
Gather’d together with fools
Who rationalize their hate
Of truth and honest rules
So all they can do is berate.
The sophomoric verses I write,
Dig deep at your ego
Slicing with truth so right
As I upset your vertigo.
The sophomore lines I sent
Are more than you have done.
I know you can’t invent
A freshman verse of one.
So why pretend to be
A critic so renown?
Anyone can see
You, a podunker clown.
Surrounded by a shroud of lies;
Enclosed by false conclusions;
Drowning in the truth you despise.
This sophomoric truth rises,
Alive, unable to breech
Your hatred, no surprises.
But still you preach!
Sophomoric poems you say?
Truth will never rely on you,
Unable to poetically convery
A thought or concept new.
Gather’d together with fools
Who rationalize their hate
Of truth and honest rules
So all they can do is berate.
The sophomoric verses I write,
Dig deep at your ego
Slicing with truth so right
As I upset your vertigo.
The sophomore lines I sent
Are more than you have done.
I know you can’t invent
A freshman verse of one.
So why pretend to be
A critic so renown?
Anyone can see
You, a podunker clown.
Child Of The Lies
Podunker Dale, child of the lies
Told lies to cover his lib'ral butte
He had to tip dance and rationalize
When all his lies were ripped and cut
Podunker loved the lies he told
Ugly things reflected his tip dancing
A vision of the liar bold
Proud as one in righteous prancing
Podunker lied for what was not
And dreamed for a socialist state
Hoping for Castro and all men who fought
Against the country of his fate
Podunker mourned the Bush success
Of such a great economy
He'd like to see a big recess
And a loss by our troops in destiny
Podunker loved Ms. Hillary
Albeit he had never seen her
He would have sinned incessantly
With Ms. Hillary to confer
Podunker cursed his little bro'
And eyed his creds with loathing
He was not man enough to know
How to wear the military clothing
Podunker scoured the news to read
For the big lie he can say
These lies for other lib'ral breed
A contempt for the American way
Podunker Dale, born with the hate
Scratched his head and kept on lying
Podunker cared not, so he called it fate
The lies, he kept on supplying
Told lies to cover his lib'ral butte
He had to tip dance and rationalize
When all his lies were ripped and cut
Podunker loved the lies he told
Ugly things reflected his tip dancing
A vision of the liar bold
Proud as one in righteous prancing
Podunker lied for what was not
And dreamed for a socialist state
Hoping for Castro and all men who fought
Against the country of his fate
Podunker mourned the Bush success
Of such a great economy
He'd like to see a big recess
And a loss by our troops in destiny
Podunker loved Ms. Hillary
Albeit he had never seen her
He would have sinned incessantly
With Ms. Hillary to confer
Podunker cursed his little bro'
And eyed his creds with loathing
He was not man enough to know
How to wear the military clothing
Podunker scoured the news to read
For the big lie he can say
These lies for other lib'ral breed
A contempt for the American way
Podunker Dale, born with the hate
Scratched his head and kept on lying
Podunker cared not, so he called it fate
The lies, he kept on supplying
A Dhimmi Lives In Oklahoma
Dhimmi lives in Oklahoma
A place of culture and the right
So why act he as in a coma
Spreading the plague of lib’ral blight.
All his lies are common as tornados
Proven destructive to the throngs
Who sit and believe his bravados
Unable to fathom all the lib’ral wrongs.
Dhimmi climbs upon his pulpit mighty
Singing hymns from Satan’s chorus;
Preaching it’s all due to evil whitey;
Seeing only dead trees in the forest.
Like the now long gone horny toad,
The truth has left him years ago,
In exchange for that wide and easy road
That his master promises in escrow.
Dhimmi lives in multiculture
Yet hates all those who with him disagrees
His view is that of a vulture
Feasting on the entrails of his disease
He loves to preach the concept of diversity
But that means only one thing to his kind
Skin color is Dhimmi’s perversity
But never will be from the diff’rent mind.
Dhimmi seems to be forgetting
A diff’rent culture means a diff’rent mind
"No it doesn’t," shouts dhimmi panting
"Only the lib’ral view is so refined
With only evil rightwingers believing
Something diff’rent than what I say.
Moral values are deceiving
So we must all follow the lib’ral way."
Dhimmi really is from Oklahoma
The state that gave us Tom Coburn
And, yes, Dhimmi is in a coma
Been that way and probably won’t return.
His brain sleeps in a lib’ral mist
Of lies and stupid hate-filled rants.
Everyday he sends me garbage to insist
He’s right, sounds just like the other Satan servants.
A place of culture and the right
So why act he as in a coma
Spreading the plague of lib’ral blight.
All his lies are common as tornados
Proven destructive to the throngs
Who sit and believe his bravados
Unable to fathom all the lib’ral wrongs.
Dhimmi climbs upon his pulpit mighty
Singing hymns from Satan’s chorus;
Preaching it’s all due to evil whitey;
Seeing only dead trees in the forest.
Like the now long gone horny toad,
The truth has left him years ago,
In exchange for that wide and easy road
That his master promises in escrow.
Dhimmi lives in multiculture
Yet hates all those who with him disagrees
His view is that of a vulture
Feasting on the entrails of his disease
He loves to preach the concept of diversity
But that means only one thing to his kind
Skin color is Dhimmi’s perversity
But never will be from the diff’rent mind.
Dhimmi seems to be forgetting
A diff’rent culture means a diff’rent mind
"No it doesn’t," shouts dhimmi panting
"Only the lib’ral view is so refined
With only evil rightwingers believing
Something diff’rent than what I say.
Moral values are deceiving
So we must all follow the lib’ral way."
Dhimmi really is from Oklahoma
The state that gave us Tom Coburn
And, yes, Dhimmi is in a coma
Been that way and probably won’t return.
His brain sleeps in a lib’ral mist
Of lies and stupid hate-filled rants.
Everyday he sends me garbage to insist
He’s right, sounds just like the other Satan servants.
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