The science and technology of war has leaped beyond the boundaries of the possible into the world of the fantastic. Stealthy missiles, invisible bombers, pilotless fighter planes superior to anything with a human pilot, guided by a pilot sitting a thousand miles away in a darkened room, gazing into a computer screen. There are those who say that the day of the fighter pilot is gone, but I don’t think so. Technology is fine, but it takes a man to win a war. Fighter pilots will always be with us, and it all began with stick and canvas biplanes taking off from grass fields in France at dawn.

The dew kissed grass, the dawn lit sky
The SE5s trembling to fly
The chocks removed, the goggles down
Beyond the trees the tiny town
Awoke to hear the dawn-break roar
Of fighters climbing off to war
Into the sun they sped at height
The spear-tip of a nations might
The sun now up, the sky soft blue
No Huns in sight, as on they flew
They did not see the future pass
The Merlin and high octane gas
The Hurricane, the 262
Or owed by many to so few
The missile, radar, atoms lit
While fighters fought as pilots sit
In offices in front of screens
With war for some soft painted scenes
Below the SE5s the war
Had scarred the land and farms and more
The scar-line trenches hove in view
Into the sun the spear-tip flew

Bismarck once famously said that if war comes it will be because of some damn fool thing in the Balkans. War came in 1914, and we are now re-running the movie, this time because of some damn fool thing in the Middle East. Only the damn fool thing in the Middle East was done by President Barack Obama when he deliberately changed victory to defeat in Iraq and created chaos by pulling down dictators who were doing us no harm and replacing them with Islamic killers determined to destroy us and all our works. And so we shall have nuclear war as Obama’s secret deals with Iran have put them on the path to nuclear weapons and Israel defends itself. All are drawn in as city after city foes up in towering clouds of turbulence and black smoke, as Vera Lynn sings the closing song from Dr. Strangelove,  We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…..

This movie we have seen before
The script is brief and calls for war
And all because behind the door
Lurk monsters in the dark
The secret deal, the shaded wink
Will save us all, or so some think
Believing other guys will blink
But secret dogs still bark
Events will shape the world not men
As seen before, now seen again
There is no If but only When
And life comes grim and stark
The children cry and women mourn
As lives and land alike are torn
As on winged hooves black death is borne
When tinder flashes spark

Donald Trump has a commanding lead, though it is early yet, in the polls among Republican primary voters, particularly in the critical swing states of Ohio and Florida, despite his raving rants against Fox News and Megyn Kelly. Trump, a long-time registered Democrat, a man who espouses every article of the Progressive agenda, supports Obamacare, hires thousands of illegal aliens for their cheap labor, and who has contributed to Hillary’s campaigns, is now running for the Republican nomination for president and who threatens a Third Party run if not nominated. Has Trump recently traveled the Damascus Road and now sees the light? Has he done a complete pirouette and has now renounced his progressive past, or is this a planned Perotette. a rerun of the Ross Perot campaign in 1992 that delivered the presidency to Hillary’s husband. If Trump gets Hillary elected president, then the country is doomed to Third World status and one party Socialist utopian rule far into the future.

The Donald, now, leads in the polls
The darling of the downtrod proles
For Hillary he’ll grease the skids
With votes from those with closed eyelids
A Clinton White House, oh what joy
The country the Dem Party’s toy
The health care system bites the dust
Death panels economic must
With Huma the First Lady now
And all the crazies yelling WOW!

She lay in her coffin, unmoving and unseeing, the smell of bronze and silk strong in the closed, tiny space, the sounds of the receding drums growing dimmer, until finally she could hear them no more. In their stead, she heard a bird, calling to someone, instantly answered, heard the sound of everyday traffic on the nearby road. She would wait, for what, she did not know, but she would wait. She settled in, comfortable in her cramped surroundings, aware of life outside her bronze home, life above and beneath the surface of the earth. She marveled at the industrious sound of burrowing earthworms, intent on going only they knew where, of winged insects delicately making love to willing flowers, of gentle rain lightly brushing the cool, green grass. Yes, she thought, I shall wait.

Who was she, the young man asked
Who indeed, the old man said
I knew her well in my own youth
‘Tis Lady Liberty who is now dead
What is Liberty, the young man frowned
I do recall I’ve heard the word
But that was oh so long ago
But much since then must have occurred
The people changed, the old man sighed
Who took the checks gave up his soul
And grievance came to rule the land
And now She’s lying in that hole
Well, said the young man, Liberty
Could not have meant so very much
To give it up for circus bread
At the first brush of tyrant’s touch
So slow it came, the old man sighed
We never saw the moment when
And now She’s gone, by our own hand
Perhaps in time She’ll live again

People are wondering how the presidential election will turn out, wondering how the Hispanics will vote, and wondering if the Dems will bus massive numbers of illegal alien non-citizens to the polls like they always do. I spoke to an illegal alien just arrived from Mexico the other day and asked how he was going to vote and he said it was always well to rely on how other undocumented illegal alien non-citizens were voting.

He said he likes the stronger horse
Just like in Mexico
An open question though of course
Depending on the show
He thought the Donald spiteful, mean
Though otherwise all right
The choices though must all be seen
To quite enjoy the fight
He heard of Jeb who married well
A Latin girl he heard
But Rubio he could not tell
He’s Cuban is the word
Now Walker seemingly enjoys
A tussle now and then
And so I’d say of those four boys
They’re good but I like Ben
He paused and looked me in the eye
And said in muted voice
You fellows really really try
And think you have a choice
It matters not on whom you dote
The vote’s already in
In Mexico I cast my vote
For Hillary to win

Venezuela, one of the ten most oil rich countries in the world, is about to implode. The disastrous Socialist and virulent anti-American policies imposed by Hugo Chavez and continued by President Maduro has resulted in hyper-inflation, hyper-unemployment, starvation and bankruptcy. Venezuela’s currency, the Bolivar, is now worth next to nothing, and growing more worthless by the hour. The United States, the country Chavez and Maduro both have called the Devil that must be destroyed, will be expected to come to the rescue. Secretary of State John Kerry reveals the Administration plan to save another America-hating Marxist dictator.

The Sec of State, with lordly brow
Set in a frozen frown
Said help is needed and right now
We cannot let him down
Maduro has the right approach
His people know he cares
He lives a life beyond reproach
He does what’s right, he dares
And so this crisis must be solved
Before it goes too far
And so our plan, as it’s evolved
Is save the Bolivar
The President has set the tone
The Treasury will print
Ten dollar bills that we shall loan
To Venezuela’s mint
Inflation makes each of those tens
A million dollar bill
If needed we will send some Bens
Each ATM to fill
The kicker is Maduro’s smile
Will grace each of the notes
And so we go the extra mile
To see he gets the votes

We are privileged to live in the time of Barack Obama, the greatest Chessmaster of all time, a man who looks so many moves ahead he is already playing the end game while his opponents are considering the move king’s pawn to king 4.

From Karpov to Capablanca
From Teheran to Casablanca
There’s a Sunni Shia fissure
That’s too wide for Bobby Fischer
But Obama’s on his game now
Putting lesser minds to shame now
With his black knights fast advancing
And his bishops nimbly dancing
Center files his rooks controlling
And his sec of state cajoling
The queen strikes and the trap sprang
But it’s just another zugzwang

Planned Parenthood removes viable, living babies from their mothers’ wombs, dismembers them and sells their body parts. Leftist power always leads to Leftist tyranny and barbarism, and barbarism always leads to decay and destruction.

At 23 weeks
She knew her mother’s voice
She woke and slept
In rhythm with the constancy
And comfort
Of her mother’s heartbeat
She was aware of herself
Aware of her surroundings
Content
Unknowing of the future
She was unafraid
Until
Until
A sudden spasm
Something tearing at her
Pulling her apart
She screamed
MOMMY! MOMMY!
Terribly afraid
Aware of the searing pain
Aware of the encroaching silence
She longed above all else
To hear the beating of her mother’s heart
In the briefest of moments she had left
She thought of her mother
And how she loved her