HEAR YE, HEAR YE: It’s a wedding bell for bedding well while we’re crushin’ the illusion of Russian collusion! CNN wets on Russian bedding but Trump bets on Russian wedding, and you’re invited to the bridal shower. Punking the monkery, dig the debunkery; from Rasputin to Putin it’s time for some straight shootin’. Hillary looks old and glowers at Donald’s rumored golden showers. Our media owes US an explanation for streams of steaming urination, but we are willing to forgive and use their wet diapers as debt wipers. My poem’s appeal may take a toll, but let its little peal now roll:
Tinkle, tinkle rings the bell
A Fake News warning; time to spell
out what was wet with Moscow girls.
Putin’s putas? Wisdom’s pearls
were pried from Truth’s reluctant shell,
banishing Hillary straight to hell.
None. It’s what we want left over
from this hag. We now discover
beds were dry; it all amounted
(all those golden tricks recounted)
to less than a tepid bowl of kasha. . .
Russia laughed from her summer dacha.
InfoWars was on it first
while Dems spun lies from false to worst,
awarding cash for faked dossiers
embellished with the CIA’s
well-trained performing circus-seal.
The FBI endorsed the deal
as RINOS horned in on the action:
a democrat-concocted fuss—
. . . but we ALL paid Hillary to piss on us.
He nothing common did or mean
Upon that memorable scene,
But with his keener eye
The axe’s edge did try;
Nor call’d the gods with vulgar spite
To vindicate his helpless right,
But bowed his comely head
Down as upon a bed.
This was that memorable hour
Which first assur’d the forced pow’r.
So when they did design
The Capitol’s first line,
A bleeding head, where they begun,
Did fright the architects to run;
And yet in that the state
Foresaw its happy fate.
Brother and Sister Citizens:
Our fatherland consolidates. Let us salute, as One, our terrible destiny,
lately manifest as the gathering force of a blackened sun now glowing,
after eight years of lightless gloom.
Now we shine, now we merge our individuality in one
to discover a collective future in Trump.
As one wave of Greatness we now stride
over the ruins of Hope & Change, into the American Restoration.
Let us, each one, offer a straight stick of noble hardwood for the mass.
Donald our axe-head is now tightly bound with us in a shared sacred duty,
projecting his keen edge from the national bundle.
Let us, together, grow tired of winning until all worthless cancerous cells
are excised, neutralized and disposed of.
All that is not full of the Will to Greatness must perish
before the coming orange storm.
Clad in the shining raiment of victory
let us serve with American fervor our new leader.
Women, mothers and nurturers of the mystic rebirth
are welcome in Trump’s new nation.
Sweep away the cobwebs of the old weakness, hail the conquering hero,
he who fearlessly bears the fasces into the global courtroom
as judge, jury, and executioner.
Let the cities and nations of unbelief tremble and plead for mercy.
Poems shall be composed as bridges are built, spanning years.
Stanzas shall spontaneously fall into place and march with military precision.
Every capital line shall converge upon our captain.
Hail the crown of Donald T.
Hail the mighty orange flame
Hail the age’s consummation
(Voters have themselves to blame)
TRUMP shall smash the global Hydra
TRUMP shall avenge our national shame.
TRUMP shall restore our families’ honor;
CONQUER (in his deplorable name) !
Captain TRUMP, the cord that binds
TRUMP the axe-head and the judge.
Leader DONALD, light that blinds.
Our final King: let none begrudge.
LOVE is the LAW
LOVE UNDER WILL
(was that fascistic enough 4 U ?☻)
shout-out 2 ma homeboyz Benito Mussolini and Vlad P.
thanx 4 tha inspiration !