Category Archives: Verse

Moderate Muslims

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Two moderate muslims are sitting around a fire, toasting goat entrails. The first moderate muslim says, “The stoning was beautifully done, but I held back in moderation out of consideration for the slut whore’s husband who rightly denounced her for showing her face at a window without a veil.“

“And rightly so,” the second moderate muslim said. “I too threw only small stones.”

“I heard at the oasis,” the first moderate muslim said, “that an infidel threatened to burn the holy book, may he be urinated upon by a herd of syphilitic camels.”

“There are worse things than being urinated upon by syphilitic camels, my cousin. I say we respond judiciously and moderately to the very thought of burning the holy Quran. Let us capture some infidels and slit their throats and send the pictures to YouTube.”

“Good idea,” the first moderate muslim said, “even though Allah, Peace Be Upon Him, has given the infidel guns.”

“Exactly,” the second moderate muslim said. “That’s why we’re moderate.”

 

 

Moderation, ain’t it grand

As long as things go as they’re planned

The Arab sits upon his sand

And contemplates the death

Of infidels worldwide and thus

On Allah’s scorecard it’s a plus

He’ll slit a throat with little fuss

As soon as draw a breath

The muslim doesn’t know the score

He thinks the West is weak and more

Than eager to give up the store

But what he doesn’t know

Is that the West is slow to rise
But pushed too far we’ll fill the skies

With planes that say the last goodbyes

With Allah first to go

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, can be found HERE

 

 

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

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Barack Obama looks into a mirror and sees Mount Rushmore. But what does the mirror see? I had a revealing experience many years ago. I came upon my Irish setter pup staring at a full length back of a door bedroom mirror, rigid as stone. He could see there was something looking back at him, but since there was no smell, his primary sense, all his instincts told him there was nothing there. Yet clearly there was. Obama is like my long gone but never forgotten Irish setter pup; he sees his reflection and believes there is something there.

 

 

TO A LOOKING GLASS

 

Reflections of an empty room

A curtain moving in the breeze

A passing figure briefly seen

It cares not all for what it sees

The heirloom hanging in the hall

Reflects the living, not the dead

Who are still there, beneath the new

Who will in time have in their stead

The newer still, the living shades

Mere visitors, a constant frieze

The mirror hangs there, silent, still

Not caring all for what it sees

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, may be found HERE

 

 

 

Intimidation

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The object of al Qaeda attacks is intimidation. They know the actual damage or number of deaths is incidental to the real purpose, which is to intimidate the enemy. The intimidation is working, so there is no reason to believe the Muslims will stop any time soon. Threaten to kill anyone who publishes a cartoon of Mohammed and pretty soon no one publishes a cartoon of Mohammed. Intimidation works when the intimidated knows the intimidator will carry out his threat. But sometimes intimidation fails. Alcohol is forbidden to the devout muslim, but sometimes a drink will make the faithful a tad belligerent.

 

 

I do not like thee or thy smell

I do not like thy faith as well

And this I know to thee I tell

You die today and rot in hell

I do not like the stinking Jew

I do not like him nor I you

To kill him is the thing to do

Till there are none or very few

The Christian is a parasite

He clings to land that’s ours by right

My friends and I come in the night

To catch him in the act of flight

The Hindu now we save for last

His death will rectify the past

We kill him and entire caste

We laugh to see him run so fast

I tell you this so you should know

That Allah is the way to go

All others we see as the foe

We strike in Allah’s name the blow

You infidel are past your time

Your weakness shows you’re past your prime

And now you pay for every crime

Your clock of death is now to chime

We’ll treat you like the dung you are

As slaves of the Islamic Dar

Yes you may run but not get far

Please put up gun I out of car

 

You can find my novels, paperback and Kindle, HERE

 

 

California Dreamin’

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California was once known as the Golden State, a land of milk and honey, good jobs, and good living. All gone now, thanks to decades of Left wing politics that enriched the unions and bankrupted the rest of the populace with higher and higher taxes to pay off the promises to the unions that elected them. More and more burdensome regulations pushed by the environmental whackos drove businesses from the state, which meant more and more taxes on the individual to make up for it. On the verge of bankruptcy, on the verge of economic and social collapse, the voters of California had the option, last November, of electing a proven businesswoman who would save the state or electing a career politician who belonged to the liberal party that brought the state to the verge of economic collapse in the first place. They elected the liberal whose plan for saving the state was to raise taxes. It is said that people get the government they deserve, and this is certainly true in the case of California.

 

 

They love their Charles Manson

And hate their Victor Hanson

They love their Lefty charmers

And hate their working farmers

They love kinky seducers

And hate the wealth producers

They love their Lefty greenies

And hate Fox Channel meanies

And now with empty pockets

And new laws on the dockets

That punish those who work still

To give to those who work nil

They think that we will save them

But we should just enslave them

And make work unrequited

Until the land they’ve blighted

Is prosperous and sunny

Awash in hard earned money

And Lefty pols are banished

And Boxerdom has vanished

And when they’ve reached that station

We’ll welcome to our nation

A State no more beholden

A State that’s once more Golden

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, may be found HERE

 

 

Risk

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Life is a risk. Every time you cross the street or start your car you put yourself at risk. You learn to live with it, learn to ignore the little risks and avoid, if possible, the larger risks. This is why we don’t need some bureaucrat telling us not to do this or not to do that. The problem comes when we are told that Alar is harmful and then after the apple growers are bankrupt we find Alar is not harmful after all. This sort of thing goes on all the time, as junk science has replaced real science in our overly gullible society. The thing to do is ignore the junk scientists and live your life as best you can and you will be fine, because you know something the gullible and the junk scientists do not, which is that life is risky, and the trick lies in knowing where the risks are and avoiding them.

 

 

You take the risk

That your crab bisque

Will give you crabs or cancer

A tasty tart

Might make you fart

Don’t eat one that’s the answer

A plate of beans

Taste by all means

But never take the seconds

Who knows what lurks

What evil works

Death by disease still beckons

The lab rats die

No reason why

It must be in the water

And then they find

Oh never mind

You just misunderstood her

My teeth are fine

They really shine

I brush with fluoride daily

But if they rot

I’ll sue the lot

And see them in Old Bailey

Yes life’s a risk

And you may whisk

Along for years with nary

A sickly day

Till angels say

It’s time my boy don’t tarry

 

 My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, can be found HERE

 

Band Of Brothers

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Major Dick Winters, Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, US Army, the central character of Stephen Ambrose’s Band of Brothers, died recently at age 92. And so they leave us, the WW2 fighters, the finest generation, at the alarming rate of 10,000 a day, and soon there will be no more of them. But Easy Company was not the only band of brothers in WW2. The entire country shared in the struggle, the country was of one mind, one spirit. We are not of one mind, one spirit now. Rancid partisanship divides us, the Left perfectly willing to lose a war for political gain. Will we ever again be a band of brothers?

 

 

We were brothers once

But are no more

Perhaps it takes

Another war

A war to death

For us to be

One again

And proud and free

Divided now

The left and right

As far apart

As day and night

Fingers point

And daggers fly

The truth is dead

Killed by the lie

The noble band

Of men now gone

Once ushered in

A noble dawn

A dawn that pols

And newsmen too

Debased and took

Away from you

The brother band

Will soon be gone

Beneath the flags

Upon the lawn

Gone to God

To their reward

For liberty

They drew the sword

 

You can find my Amazon novels, paperback and Kindle, HERE

 

 

Slime Dogs

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A defeated Pennsylvania congressman, Paul Jankorski, who now calls for retribution against conservative talk radio and Sarah Palin for inciting the Tucson killer, himself called for the shooting of the Republican candidate for governor of Florida. When asked about it, Jankorski airily dismissed it, saying anyone who took his inflammatory words seriously was a nutcase. And so it goes. If you’re a liberal Democrat you can say and do whatever you want, however vicious, however untrue, but if you are a conservative Republican, every word you utter is an incitement to violence and must be curbed, by force if necessary.

 

 

You know them by the slime they leave

Behind them as they move

They state as fact the lie they know

They’ll never have to prove

Like Franks and Ostrogoths before

Where common language held

Once separated by their tongue

Could never be re-weld

So too the politics of hate

Has led to our divide

The common tongue has disappeared

And each must choose his side

The Left has reached the farthest low

The slime has reached its high

And to the point that we might say

“Tis best to say goodbye

 

My paperback and Kindle novels on Amazon may be found HERE 

 

 

The Dark Of The Moon

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Thirty-five years ago a Philadelphia judge spent her life changing the way we treat the mentally incompetent and the criminally insane, and succeeded. The mental institutions were emptied, the patients left to themselves, free to live in subway concourses or in a box on the street. Such is compassionate liberalism. Involuntary institutionalization was set aside, leaving society helpless in the face of those who live their lives in the dark of the moon.

 

 

In the dark of the moon

In the depths of the soul

Comes the cry of the loon

And the silent bell toll

Calling forth the red gaze

From the unfocused eyes

To the scene through the haze

And the stalk of the prize

Trust the bullets that shine

Love the Glock in your hand

There she is, she is mine

Let my hatred be fanned

Let my aim be sublime

Let my weapon be true

It is now, it is time

She will get what is due

Pull the trigger right now

See her jump as she’s hit

I am in her sight now

And she knows this is it

Oh the joy of it all

She’ll be gone very soon

Yes the networks will call

In the dark of the moon

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, can be found HERE 

 

 

 

Airships

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Count von Zeppelin flies again. The Department of Defense is sending drones to Afghanistan that can take pictures of an area half the size of Manhattan.  Airships that stay aloft for weeks, taking full color panoramic 3D pictures of vast expanses of trackless waste, all without human intervention.  Or maybe it’s more Jules Verne than Count von Zeppelin.  Or maybe James Thurber and his immortal Walter Mitty, captaining the giant airship in his daydreaming imagination.

 

 

In the Thirties we had Thurber

Not to mention Edna Thurber

Walter Mitty had his dreams but don’t we all

Mitty’s daydreams were fantastic

Always fanciful, elastic

Flying zeppelins to foreign ports of call

Now we don’t need Walter Mitty

We can photograph a city

Seeing cars collide and people come and go

Watching vendors on the corners

Tracking down illegal forners

Just downloading it would make a TV show

So no w thanks to old James Thurber

We can spy upon our nerber

And we don’t need goofy guys like Walter Mitty

We’ve got airships now we’re riding

Leaving us no place for hiding

When they turn on us they’re showing us no pity

Yes right now I know they’re after

If you please just hold the laughter

Guys in robes and turbans hiding in the bush

But with cameras this pervasive

The Feds will be more invasive

Is Obama testing in the Hindu Kush?

Is the TSA on order

To fly Gorgon on the border

Keeping track of where you are and where you’ve been?

Is a fence the next big issue

‘Round each city lest they miss you

Fences not to keep them out but keep you in

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, can be found HERE

 

  

Get Out Of Our Hair

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The Obama administration cannot help itself, it cannot keep its hands off our lives. They tell us what to feed our kids, they tell us carbon, the very building block of life on earth is deadly harmful and we should stop exhaling CO2, they pat down buxom women and old men at airports while letting bearded young Arab males pass through screening without hindrance, they punish those who disagree. But that is the modus operandi of the Left. They are our betters and they will tell us what to do and what to think and insist we thank them for looking after us, for they know better than us because they are the Left, and if you are of the Left, then by definition you are better than those who are not of the Left.  

 

 

Some things we know are proper

Some necessary, too

Some things are both, but this we know

Sometimes it isn’t true

The government, says Holder

Is here to help us all

But helper or as scolder?

I’ll let you make the call

The Left would dip their fingers

Into our very souls

And tell us what our kids can put

Into their breakfast bowls

They warn us not to breathe and fill

The air with CO2

They know what’s good for us and shove it

Up the old kazoo

They say they do it for our good

They say it’s being fair

I say just leave us all alone

And get out of our hair

 

My novels on Amazon, paperback and Kindle, can be found HERE