Category Archives: Verse

An Al Goregeous Day

Egged on by third world countries and other panhandlers, the UN is pushing the United States and Western Europe to commit economic suicide in order to fund the greatest transfer of wealth the world has ever seen, all in the name of saving the planet from a non-existent global warming crisis. The president of the United States is committed to enabling this insanity by pledging to give billions of US taxpayer dollars to failed countries and tyrannical regimes so that they may begin the transfer to green technology. Of course none of this money will go to green technology investment; it will go into the Swiss bank accounts of the ruling oligarchs and despots. And of top of all this, Al Gore has just announced that the Copenhagen target for the complete destruction of the world economies is not enough.

Fears for the ice

Will not suffice

When warming turns to hail

Let’s tell those bums

When warming comes

The check is in the mail

The real neat thing

This tack will bring

Is we won’t have to pay

The emails show

The warm winds blow

Out of their ass, okay?

It’s about time

This fraud and crime

Was put under the clay

A bitter breeze

Some low degrees

Make an Al Goregeous day

We’re With You All The Way

The Surge

Publius Cornelius Obamanus

From A Boxcar Door

Boxcar Willie sang about railroads mostly, one of which, From A Boxcar Door, is a paean to America. I too see the world through a boxcar door, and I don’t like what I see. Political correctness and multiculturalism sapping our will; a political establishment unheeding of the dangers of militant Islam. I have the feeling the world is like a railroad freight yard, and we a runaway boxcar, careening down the tracks, switching madly from track to track, but always moving remorselessly towards the high iron and the deep, black river, unheeding of the warning signs BRIDGE OUT!

I see the world around me flashing

Careening past and faster than before

I see the smiling faces

Not knowing they’ll soon hear the missiles roar

I see the children playing

Not knowing if they’re rich or if they’re poor

I see it all

I see the fall

From a boxcar door

I see Obama sleeping

A’dreaming of a world that he would cure

I see the man’s advisors

Not knowing anything but still damn sure

I see the nukes a’moving

I see what Islam crazies have in store

I see it all

I see the fall

From a boxcar door

I see the rails a’burning

I see the switches in a light so pure

I see the high iron coming

I see the river and the distant shore

I see the world around me glowing

I see the silver missiles start to soar

I see it all

I see the fall

From a boxcar door

Where Once Was Hington

Major Nidal Malik Hasan murdered thirteen fellow soldiers at Fort Hood, Texas, and it became immediately apparent that many in Washington and in the military had for many years questioned the sanity and loyalty of Major Hasan. Nothing was done about it because the Major was a Muslim, and to remove him or even question him was contrary to the orthodox political correctness that demanded Muslims be treated with the utmost consideration lest the entire Muslim American community be offended. And so, in the cause of political correctness, thirteen innocent men and women died, and some thirty-eight were wounded. And what was the official reaction to this vicious and violent Muslim murder of infidels? The president of the United States demanded of us that we not jump to conclusions about the motive of the Muslim killer, and stated the act was incomprehensible, though it was clearly not incomprehensible at all. General George W. Casey, Army Chief of Staff, wrung his hands and cried that he hoped this unfortunate incident would not seriously damage the military’s drive for diversity. Such is the madness that grips us that we cannot bring ourselves to see that which is plain for all to see.

Stupid is as stupid does

So sayeth one and all

But why is stupid all the buzz

Just before the fall?

To ask it is to answer

For anyone can see

The country has a cancer

In Washington DC

The way that things are going

I shudder for my kids

As freedom’s winds stop blowing

As country hits the skids

Hasan investigated

But they find that nothing’s wrong

He’s Muslim so he skated

We’ve all heard this dreary song

He had stated Allah bade him

Kill the infidel at once

They surely could have had him

But he smiled as one who hunts

For his victims where he finds them

And he shot them where they stood

As he cried that Allah binds them

To perdition and that’s good

So with plentiful profusions

Of our guilt the word goes out

That we not jump to conclusions

It’s not Islam, there’s no doubt

Yes common sense may still prevail

But don’t bet the rent money

I’d cry at this sad sorry tale

If it weren’t so damn funny

On future digs when time permits

No harmful radiation

They’ll scratch their heads and search for bits

Of what was once a nation

“Twas Hington, boys, a state now dead”

But others disagree

Until they found the sign that said

It WAS HINGTON, DC

Our Best And Brightest

Politicians strive mightily to give the impression of warmth, intellect, decisiveness, or just plain man of the people, all as the moment requires, presenting themselves to the public as something they typically are not. In the spirit of bringing truth to advertising, Verse-afire brings you snap-shot bio-pics of some of our leading men and women.

Bill Clinton, a man oleaginous

Once known for political dodginess

Thinks despite his white hair

That the ladies still care

He thinks he’s in a zone erogenous

The Chief of Staff man name of Rahm

Tells the country you gotta stay calm

We this crisis can’t waste

So we’re spending in haste

Hoping some of it sticks to a palm

Pelosi exchanges high fives

As she brings out the socialist knives

She wants health care for all

But the people still stall

They don’t want Nancy running their lives

Harry Reid used to be a club fighter

In the day when he was a bit lighter

But the blows to the head

Made him Senator instead

Where he thinks he’s been given a miter

Chuck Schumer’s a synonym for oily

Will smile and then say something coyly

That he thinks hides the shivs

As the sneak blow he gives

So all tend to despise the man royally

Of course it would surely be odd

If we left out one Christopher Dodd

Sweetheart mortgage went through

No not one, count ‘em, two

But it’s okay, he thinks he is God

Nostradamus, Guest Blogger, Volume 1

Time is an illusion. Time is not nature’s way of seeing to it that everything doesn’t happen all at once, for everything did happen all at once, one time, at the singularity. The concept of time reflects man’s imperfect grasp of reality, necessitated by his inability to understand that there is no such thing as time. And since everything happened all at once, there is a record of everything, a record we see as time, unfolding in its irreversible way. That record has the account of everything that happened, including those things we think of as in the future. I, Nostradamus, do not claim special powers, but I have been given access to those records.

Late Spring will see the bankers weeping

New regs by government in keeping

Will cause the liquid base to flow

In ever faster volume go

The failings gather as may be

With prayers to the FDIC

The summer sees a blinding flash

As two religious peoples clash

One religion has the power

To name the date and name the hour

The other gains to live by bluster

But force is something they can’t muster

The Fall will see the war increasing

The Kushmen fighting without ceasing

The soldiers of the Power fight

To make the Kushmen see the light

But Power CinC says whoa

This is as far as I can go

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is family, and good food and good talk, memories re-lived, stories told. Thanksgiving is a day of reflecting on the wonder of being American, of living in the greatest country that ever was. Thanksgiving is football and crisp Fall weather, golden leaves and the hint of the snow to come. But most of all, Thanksgiving is family.

Drinks before dinner, then turkey and pie

Pumpkin and apple and mince

Cranberries, stuffing piled up to the sky

Enough to make hungry men wince

And there’s the good China and wine of your choice

As full heaping platters pass ‘round

With silverware clinking their soft silver voice

Competing with murmuring sound

Of diners exclaiming delight as they placed

Firm white meat in neat piles on plates

All realize the large ringing truth to be faced

That dinner won’t come to who waits

Then come the potatoes, both candied and mashed

With peas and rich gravy to boot

And when it was over the menfolk all crashed

Watching football but too stuffed to root

The ladies repaired to the kitchen to clean

Piled dishes in racks to be washed

The silver and glasses then filled the machine

While men lay around nicely sloshed

With talk about next year, and what a fine meal

And whose house they’d all gather ‘bout

The ladies then cried Oh hell no, that’s no deal

‘Cause next year you’re taking us out

What Emails? What Memos?

The revelations of fraud as revealed in the emails and files hacked from a server at the Climatic Research Unit of the University of East Anglia, Great Britain, will not mean a thing. The emails show the scientists rigging the data to make it appear that man, and not the sun, is responsible for what little global warming there has been over the past one hundred years, but neither Al Gore nor the climate Nazis will be dissuaded or disturbed by the facts, since he and they were undoubtedly privy to the scam from the beginning. No, the hockey stick guys will fight tooth and nail, claiming with every exhaled carbon dioxide breath that global warming is real and that the emails are faked. They will not give up easily, for careers are at stake, and for some, like Al Gore, it isn’t a career that’s at stake, but vast sums of money. Do not expect the climate Nazis to give up their fevered dream of running the world’s economies and peoples through the soft tyranny of the European socialist elites. And above all, do not expect Al Gore to do a mea culpa.

The climate is changing, we’re told by Al Gore

Regardless of facts that it’s not

And even with emails, the scandal du jour

He’ll not change his mind by a jot

The icebergs are melting, the bears in decline

The seas are all rising a lot

And even if proven the bears are all fine

He’d not change his mind by a jot

The air is polluted with carbon you know

It’s hard to know just what we’ve got

But even if proven the air’s fresh as snow

He’d not change his mind by a jot

He’ll not change positions on climate, we’re told

He says that it’s gonna get hot

And even if proven we’re gonna get cold

He’d not change his mind by a jot

For climate’s the answer to money for Al

He sees it as dough for the pot

The climate change scam is for him a cash cow

So he’ll not change his mind by a jot