Ancient Music

Our ancestors looked to the skies, for only the sharply glowing lights told the truth. Yet, even so, the truth, so graciously vouchsafed, fell by the wayside and perished, leaving us with nothing to believe in.

Black velvet clothed the darkened sky
Pierced by the brilliant light
Of diamonds glowing as they lie
Upon the velvet night
Below the creatures of the wold
The creatures of the grass
Beheld the diamonds that foretold
What harm would come to pass
The humming spheres so softly sang
The golden written scores
That spoke of shrieks and screams that rang
Of past and future wars
And bright filled lands of cooling breeze
And mountains snow top high
With rushing water to the seas
Filled with the loon’s keen cry
The creatures of the wold held fast
They did believe it not
The creatures of the grass at last
Believed but soon forgot
The velvet sky no longer cloaks
The singing diamond spheres
As in the wold the raven croaks
So wise beyond his years

The Invisible War

It develops that President Obama, having eagerly surrendered our advantage in Iraq to Iran, and putting thirty thousand men into Afghanistan, a landlocked stone age country of absolutely no importance to the United States, has stealthily begun his own series of low level wars, using drones and small numbers of special forces. How lovely. Everything is stealthy now, including the administration. Stealthy drones, stealthy airplanes, stealthy submarines, robots, invisibility cloaks, nothing to see here, move along. Yet it all comes down to the visible finger on the very visible button that opens the silo door. When that happens we will all be invisible.

With drones and airplanes stealthy
The art of war is healthy
With battlefields no longer like the Somme
No casualties to speak of
And after a short week of
Invisible sharp conflict comes the bomb
For everyone has nukes up
When someone puts his dukes up
The boomers flood their tubes and wait their turn
Invisible and stealthy
No longer just the wealthy
Can say the word and watch the landscape burn

The Belgian Connection

Many of the Muslim terrorists who murdered one hundred and thirty people in Paris recently, and wounded hundreds more, were Belgian citizens, most living in Brussels, where the attack was planned and started from. There is a history here. There was no such place as Belgium until 1830. What is now Belgium was part of France, the northern district of Flanders, taken from France when Napoleon abdicated in 1814, and added to the Netherlands, forming the Kingdom of the Netherlands. Riots in Brussels in 1830 resulted in the formation of the Kingdom of Belgium. Most of the new Kingdom of Belgium spoke French, which they do to this day. The Muslim terrorists also spoke French, leading one to wonder if the urgent warnings of Muslim attacks on Brussels are related at all to a revanchist movement to reclaim Flanders for France, as part of a larger European France based Caliphate.

Obama says that ISIS are the jayvees
That countries have both air forces and navies
That ISIS could not conquer such as France and
That if they tried they would not stand a chance and
Besides the Muslims are a peaceful bunch that
Would never do it and he has a hunch that
It all would quiet down if we are nice to
The murderers if we just pay the price to
Give them their Caliphate and stop these tussles
And have their capital in Muslim Brussels

Thanksgiving 2015


The man crept near, a hidden axe
And gave old Tom a couple whacks
Old Tom lay stunned upon the ground
His worth a nifty buck a pound
Buck naked then into the pan
High heat the skin to crinkly tan
The family here from near and far
Arriving both by train and car
We all agreed we much enjoyed
The festive day, joy unalloyed
And what with cole slaw, coffee, pie
Tom gave to us his life, while I
Reflected on the yearly fest
And knew that we were truly blest


Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

Today, a few days before Thanksgiving, a Turkish Air Force F-16 shot down a Russian SU-24 that violated Turkish airspace. During the Russo-Turkish war in 1877 a comical song called Abdul Abulbul Amir was heard in the London music halls, relating the battle between the Turkish hero Abdul Abulbul Amir and the Russian hero Ivan Skavinsky Skavar. We may rest assured that Putin will retaliate, but how? I would imagine it might be much like the epically comic battle between Abulbul and Skavar, which I relate below, but with a change in lyric.

A Turk F-16 has just lined up his shot
And brought down a plane with red star
And Putin then cried
I’ve a man true and tried
Whose name is Skavinsky Skavar
For Putin has teamed with the Syrian side
In spite of the disdainful sneer
From that bearded old man
With the unnatural tan
His foeman, Abulbul Amir
Skavinsky Skavar turned the cheers into groans
As he fiercely tamped down the last cheer
And faced down the lout
Who had ended the bout
It was Abdul Abulbul Amir
Then Putin loud cried that the die has been cast
It cannot be changed or denied
And Skavinski Skavar
Flashed his terrible scar
As he strangled Abdul till he cried
They wrestled all night, ‘twas a terrible fight
Obama first hung back in fear
Then with fierce flashing eyes
He stabbed both the thighs
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir
The war was thus won by the deed of the One
And Putin was crowned the new Tsar
Then they plied him with wealth
And they toasted the health
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

The Dark End Of The Street

Why is it that Islamic terrorists can be in plain sight yet can plan and execute surprise terrorist attacks on innocent civilians? We know they’re there, but we can’t see them because we prefer not to. People who insist that Islam is a religion of peace, and that Islam has nothing to do with the terrorist attacks in Paris that killed one hundred and thirty people and wounded many hundreds more, or the attack in Mali or any other bloody Muslim terrorist attack, simply refuse to walk down the alley and see what there is to see. The Secretary of State, the ineffable John Kerry, said just the other day that the Muslim attack on the office of Charlie Hebdo in Paris last January that killed eleven people was legitimate, thereby giving legitimacy to all Muslim terrorist killings. The Muslim killers live at the dark end of the street not because it is particularly dark back there, but because Western authorities have declared it to be dark.

They live at the dark end of the street
Invisible to the Elite
Who much prefer to think that they
Are simply peaceful folk by day
Who spend their nights in song and dance
A joy to have in la belle France
Or in the USA as well
Invite them to come sit a spell
And if from time to time there comes
A massacre so bad it numbs
The senses to a state of shock
It isn’t here, it’s down the block
Be not afraid, we won’t retreat
It’s just the dark end of the street

As Gentle As The Sea

The president has stated, on more than one occasion, that ISIS was not a serious threat, and that taking a couple hundred thousand Muslim immigrants from the Middle East into the country will be perfectly safe because he will insist on foolproof vetting, and only peaceful folks truly fleeing death and oppression will be set among us, This despite the fact that the Director of the FBi says there is no possibility of vetting any of them.

The president again maintained
He had the buggers well contained
And that is why, he then explained
The war is going well
They’re not nice folks, that I agree
But are not Islam, cannot be
For Islam’s gentle as the sea
With hardly wave or swell
The war’s not the kinetic kind
We must engage them with the mind
In time we’ll forge the ties that bind
We have a lot to sell
Excuse me please I have a call
Some immigrants shot up a mall
Beheaded kids against a wall
Stuff happens, what the hell

Le Pen And The General

France is not a stranger to violent politics, to sudden overturns of the political structure. In the aftermath of the Paris attacks by Muslim killers, French President Hollande sees his principal duty to the nation, and to the political structure to which he belongs, the denial of power to the nationalist leader Marine Le Pen, for he knows that following closely behind the nationalist views of Le Pen is the war-making views of General Curtis LeMay, whose B-29s burned to the ground one Japanese city after another.

The President of France will not be hurried
Into armed conflict but he must be worried
That opinion has been changed by Muslim killers
As surely as those Herculean pillars
Came crashing down to fill the floor with rubble
Which Hollande sees the major cause of trouble
Le Pen will take the fight right to the center
Of Muslim killing fields and she will mentor
The Muslims on the art of wholesale killing
The Middle East blood red with Muslim spilling
The Western way of war is not for actors
The bearded men with AKs just not factors
Le Pen, LeMay will quickly ring the curtain
On Muslims who think Western weakness certain

The Immigrant

Obama is determined to import 100,000 Muslim immigrants from Syria and the Middle East every year, despite the overwhelming anger of the American people at the very thought of doing such a dangerous thing. Yet Obama will do it, at least as long as he is president, because it fits his agenda for weakening and ultimately destroying the United States as desired by his Muslim Communist father and Communist mentors and handlers. We know for certain that when he was enrolled in school in Indonesia he was enrolled as a Muslim. He has not changed.

The young man moved along the moving tide
Of people fleeing war, a place to hide
To Greece and Turkey, and then on to France
In Brussels he was offered there the chance
To join the cell in place across the sea
And so to North America flew he
To open arms from Imams who, he learned
Were training cadres to see cities burned
He trained with AKs, gave his life to God
When orders came he gave a smile and nod
The restaurant was full of life and sound
He left the car and in a single bound
He burst inside and swept the tables clear
With AK bursts that silenced all the fear
That greeted him as he burst through the door
And then he paused and calmly waited for
Police to come and calmly blew  his vest
And finally the carnage came to rest
The White House flacks said that these said events
Were random acts of workplace violence
That we must not think Islam is at war
A lonely man, depressed and nothing more

The Sound Of Broken Glass

Small blown glass objects have been discovered in Mesopotamia in five thousand year old strata. Glass making continued to be an art craft for thousands of years until the British invented rolled plate glass in the nineteenth century, and it is this Christian invention of rolled and float plate glass that is used in buildings throughout the Muslim world to this day. For this reason, and because the Muslims seem determined to remove all traces of Western culture, civilization and technology from the face of the Earth, I propose that we begin by taking away all their plate glass windows. For starters.

I love the sound of breaking glass
I love the smell of leaking gas
The trembling Earth as missiles pass
Their shadows casting shade
I love to hear the screams and yells
The sudden bursting of the shells
As arty turns slums into hells
And no one’s hand is stayed
I love how fiercely Mecca burns
Medina, Riyadh wait their turns
And in Damascus one soon learns
The piper must be paid
I love the way the broken glass
Shines oh so brightly in the grass
With none to say alack alas
The corpse of Islam laid