POETIC JUSTICE: December 2006

OLD TREES

Before the year folds
and mothers lower the cold
breath of loveliness,
before the sun sets
and stars hoist their heads
for the world to see,
and the waters cower away,
the mountains sheath,
and a majestic tree
kneels upon the soil
in search of one final glance,
one last forlorn look
at the boy who climbed,
the girl who skipped `round,
the woodsmen who passed
with axes sheathed in awe
of his mighty trunk,
a glance of mothers,
beauteous and loving,
hopeful and gentle
laughter spilling from
children’s mouths;
might we discover,
remember for the next,
and climb the tree
and offer it friendship?

After the year folds
and the breath of splendor
has eased into the earth
may tomorrow’s trees
stand tall against war.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

PROGENY OF TIME

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(A Poetic Justice Collage)

Associated Press Article by DEB RIECHMANN 12.28.06
President Bush worked nearly three hours at his Texas ranch on Thursday to design a new U.S. policy in Iraq, then emerged to say that he and his advisers need more time to craft the plan he'll announce in the new year.
Burdened by low approval ratings on his handling of the war, the president is under mounting pressure to come up with a new blueprint for U.S. involvement in Iraq where the execution of Saddam Hussein - perhaps as early as this weekend - could incite further violence.

Tick tock…
Times mortal and most recent son has mislaid his steady watch.
Time, whose paternal hands once beckoned, begins to look away.
Tick tock…
We heard him speak of the boy when his war plans diminished,
“God! Allah! Help him! He is dying in combat’s arid squall!”
Tick tock…
Time listened as his son howled of his irrelevance in the world.
Observed his boy slide deep into the swamp of deceit’s making.
Tick tock…
Suffered the thrash upon his braying back for his offspring’s sins.
Smelled the lust for oil and approval saturating his boy’s skin.
Tick tock…
Again time spoke, pleading mercy from the apparatus of sleep,
“God! My counsel goes unheeded! I beg of you! Show mercy! “
Tick tock…
Times most recent son hears not the bell clanging in the valley
In this world, absent loves occasion, dread seeks out the minute.
Tick tock...

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

US frees seized Iranians in Iraq

PREVIOUS POST - Net Neutrality

YOUR CAPTURE YOUR DEATH

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Saddam Lawyer Seeks Mercy; 5 Troops Die
By LAUREN FRAYER
Associated Press Writer

BAGHDAD, Iraq (AP) -- Saddam Hussein's lawyer made a last-ditch effort to impede his execution Thursday, beseeching world leaders to prevent the United States from handing over the ousted dictator to Iraqi authorities who plan to hang him.
The plea from Saddam's attorney came as the U.S. military reported the deaths of five more troops and announced that Iraqi forces, backed by American forces, captured an al-Qaida in Iraq cell leader believed responsible for the June kidnapping of two soldiers who were found tortured and killed.
With at least 72 more Iraqis killed in sectarian violence, U.S. officials and Iraqis expressed concern about the potential for even worse bloodshed following Saddam's execution. The lawyer, Khalil al-Dulaimi, said transferring Saddam to Iraqi authorities could be the trigger.
(Full story.)

( A Poetic Justice Collage)

Rats are weeping in the gutters
Between the two rivers. The bone-dry air is motionless
And the water is muted, lifeless. Mesopotamia is
Going round the bend, teetering on the edge.
Citizens of this great land, caked with blood,
Walk, stunned and weeping while a shadow looms
Behind an enormous object whose jaws rumble.

Was it worth your capture? Your death sentence?
You’ve carried out torture, murder, rape and genocide,
Now there is a larger thing haunting your land and people.
That enormous thing’s been sent as your executioner,
But it is not God. No. It is not Allah. It is empire.
And its sunburned grief of crippled beasts
Shall haunt you for eternity.

In the world you leave, men are still filled with hate
And horror beyond the quaking gates, summoning murder,
Clambering across the wilderness, devouring children.
Empire, has not, nor will it ever warble an angel’s song
Or sing out in a reverent verse for mankind!
It shall echo its high-pitched droning of “odium”
While the rats fill their lungs with tears.

PREVIOUS POST - Next to One Another

NEXT TO ONE ANOTHER

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(Ben Heine - Cartoons)

If we lie next to one another
Do you think we’ll forget the world?
If our fingers hunt like tongues
Do you think we’ll stumble upon silence?

The dream begins the same;
I’m older. My mind and body, slower.
The dream ends the same;
You lying next to me, fingers wagging.

If we rest next to one another
Do you think we’ll fail to notice war?
If our tongues search like fingers
Do you think we’ll assemble peace?

Naked, both shining with grief,
We sense the other’s bones like a sniper,
Spin new selves with each innocent,
(Child, dream, mother, hope, father) slain.

Tonight we’ll unwind nightmares,
Our imaginings, dreams, will begin the same;
Mind and body slower, wagging,
Tongues speaking the drama from slumber.

PREVIOUS POST - Return to the Terrain

RETURN TO THE TERRAIN

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(A Poetic Justice Collage)

As I return to the terrain
Of home and family and poetry…
I call still on power to cease,
To end its grip
On the throat of humanity…
I spit it out as if poison,
Wrenching the taste away…
Like a lopped off limb
Striking a dreary sound
I slice it deeply toward tyranny…
I release it like a victim of rape,
Shaking, fatigued, frantic, enraged
Cutting the air of privilege…
I expel it like a thief
Moving stealthily, no outline,
Save for the throb of unknown loss…
I throw it to the page with imagination,
A sword cutting its way through…
And without prejudice
I spatter.

PREVIOUS POST - HOSTS OF GRIEF

Happy Christmas (War is over if you want it) 3:36 ~Hosts of Grief~

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HOSTS OF GRIEF

What is Christmas to you and me?
The holidays to the oppressed?
To the splintered soul?
The hosts of such grief
Whose ember desire wracks the flesh?

What is Christmas to you and me?
(Humanity's meaning, not the redeemer,
in these days of crucifying.)

O! Our portrayal defies expression!
Our darkened pathway!
Our giving, our charity,
O! It needs light upon it!

It needs shine bright upon reality.
As a tree so ornamented.
We love.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

PREVIOUS POST - PUFF OF EXHAUST

PUFF OF EXHAUST

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(Pollution by Ben Heine)
Dear George,
Communities are hotbeds of social interaction in which individuals of varying demographics occupy the same space and through a process of squabbling and contentiousness manage to form themselves into a political unit that, in the end, acts as an effective counterweight to the power of the State. (Read the complete letter.)

A puff of exhaust smoke oozes upward
But our flickering takes no notice
We’re busy watching the lines sway;
The ghosts of motion come to stay.

Can you not hear the death knell?
It rumbles, clanging inside our gut,
Quaking not our thickset heart,
But eliciting tears of emptiness.

A sound bite of love curls up like sex-wet lips
And evaporates before it’s perceived.

Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.

(Sing along, kids!)

Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic
Spacious skies! Amber waves!
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Purple mountains! Fruited plains!
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Liberation from sea to shining sea!

A puff of exhaust smoke oozes upward
But our flickering takes no notice
We’re busy watching the lines sway;
The ghosts of motion come to stay.

The stench wafts…

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

Inspired by Belacqua Jones

The PNAC Death Knell

COLLAGE TUITION

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muse

is out

Christmas shopping

collage tuition

will have to do

for today.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

Visit Poetic Justice Pictures...if you plan on going to collage.

PREVIOUS POST - THE WEAKNESS OF POWER

THE WEAKNESS OF POWER

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(A Poetic Justice Collage)

Bush Takes Different Tack on Iraq, Troop Levels
by Don Gonyea and *Ron Elving

President Bush provided few details of the U.S. strategy for the coming year. "I'm not going to make predictions about what 2007 will look like in Iraq," he said, "except that it's going to require difficult choices and additional sacrifices, because the enemy is merciless and violent."

*…The president said his earlier statement meant: "I believe that we're going to win," adding that he still believed that. Explaining his later remarks, he said they "reflected the fact that we're not succeeding nearly as fast as I had wanted."

The weakness of power!
Power standing alone!
A grave is empty. You are empty.
Nearing three thousand-
(Commit this to memory.)

A grave is naught. Your mind’s nil.
Tens of thousands legless- limbless
Souls stripped bare and crucified
Upon the uncultivable dust
In the time it takes you to smirk.

Why can you not recall their shadow,
Their shape, their voice, their heart?
Their fading is such a hopeless thing,
A cursed thing, a condemned slaughter!

Alone, solitary in your scheming
You’ve nothing but graves to offer.
Cursed and without consideration
Is man’s dance with the jowls of failing.

The weakness of power!
Power standing alone!
A grave is empty. You are empty

No better than graves, vacant and useless
Are you to this world and its sustained living.

Where did these things come from
With their damnable howling,
Their lamenting rigor and bent?
Did you set them free?
Are you the one?
Are you stirring the bleeding graves?
What are you hoping for; man to rise up,
To greet you with jagged teeth and fist?

The weakness of power!
Power standing alone!
A grave is empty. You are empty.
Naught. Nil. Bare. Hopeless. Condemned.

PREVIOUS POST - jerome murat (illusion)

OF THE YEAR

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The animals know.
Hoofed, finned, pawed and winged,
They discern what's coming
And what's come before.

The animals sense us
Better than we ourselves.

Most ably they detect;
Seeing no person,
Master or slave,
Rise to the bravery.

To the heart, like a cavern
Where we howl and want,
We’ve not risen.

We’ve not ascended
To greet darkness with sword.

We’ve not, they sense, listened.
We mistook the resonance
Of our quickening heart beat
As the sympathy of charity
And not the call to action.

If we listen near enough;
Want, envision, hope, dream,
We may yet sense our wings.

(copywright 06 mrp)

PREVIOUS POST - TAKE ACTION- Keep Lead on the Toxics List

LAURENCE OF EURASIA

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Oliver Laurence North (born October 7, 1943) was a member of the United States Marine Corps who achieved the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. During the Vietnam War he was awarded the Silver Star, Bronze Star and 2 Purple Heart medals. He rose to national prominence during the Iran-Contra Affair, during which he was a key Reagan administration official involved in the clandestine selling of weapons to Iran in order to generate proceeds to support the Contra rebel group in violation of the law — specifically, a provision known as the Boland Amendment.
Today, he is a conservative political commentator, and host of the Fox News Channel program, War Stories.

Ollie,
I loathe your covert rumbling,
Your mouth loud and as noxious
As the feces choking Iraqi toilets.
I detest the verge of your hatred.

And this war, always now, this war
Standing like the water fouled
As good people get rooted like pariahs
While you dance and make-believe warrior!

I loathe your clandestine fluency,
Your overrated worldly omniscience
Sidling along with your wily mentality
And damnable lack of olfactory senses!

Does the word “Iran” give you pause?
How about “Contra Affair”? “Hitz”?
Come on, Ollie! Even a blind rat knows
When it’s standing neck deep in it!

PREVIOUS POST - COLLAGES 173 & COUNTING

CLIMBER

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(Click on the photo to enlarge...)
1 Climber Found Dead on Mt. Hood; 2 Still Missing
December 17, 2006 • (AP) -- Rescuers looking for three missing climbers on Mount Hood found a body Sunday in the area where one of the climbers made a distress call a week ago, authorities said.
The dead climber had not yet been identified, said Pete Hughes, a spokesman for the Hood River County Sheriff's Office. The victim was believed to be one of the three missing climbers, authorities said.

They had taken off their clothes
And their naked souls dripped upon the snow
Covering the mountainside.
Each drop then filled with light
Forming an infant star.

Down the mountain, miles below,
Hundreds of small flowers blossomed
And we delighted in the fragrant colors.
Mankind sparkled, and mountains
Swayed in remembrance.

Hundreds of years away an eagle lifts off
And we delight in its gloriousness
Of flight under aged stars,
And those same flowers bloom
And we find delight in their nakedness.

Never let it be said that these men did not triumph,
For they've lit the sky and emboldened the world...

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

(Click on the photo above to enlarge...and see the "infant stars"...)

PREVIOUS POST - Monty Python SHOP skits

LAUGHTER'S LOVELY LETHAL DOSE

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( A Poetic Justice collage)

By RON WORD, Associated Press Writer Top of Form

Jeb Bush suspended all executions in Florida after a medical examiner said Friday that prison officials botched the insertion of the needles when a convicted killer was put to death earlier this week.
Separately, a federal judge in California imposed a moratorium on executions in the nation's most populous state, declaring that the state's method of lethal injection runs the risk of violating the constitutional ban on cruel and unusual punishment.
U.S. District Judge Jeremy Fogel ruled in San Jose that California's "implementation of lethal injection is broken." But he said: "It can be fixed."

O touch that silkens the depraved body,
Tender dreadful of
Our gaping stroke-
Tis still as loves breathing,
Intense as an awkward plunge,
A touch that eases the sting of the immeasurable.
O how we need thee to bring forth thy laughter,
To hear thy clowning, see thy droll pratfall.
O how we need thee now!

O touch this soul, heart and all hope.
Bring thy tender
`round to those howling,
Those grasping of pain, of loss.
Can’t thou see thy vital luster?
The time is now, before the needle pierces
Through the stratum of panic and reason.
Curl thy brow in jest, wrinkle thy snout,
Chuckle and burp, swing `round and fall!

Now! O now! Goddamnit! Now!
Now’s the time to come forth, you wretch!
Why doth thou slouch there in tomorrow’s shadow?
O come tender! Most desirable hand,
Bring out thy scurry of merriment,
Thy amusing loveliness and brightness,
Turn our tears into sweet wine
And sorrow into joy’s uneasy quake
Nearest the instant of dark.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

U.S. Judge - California Executions Unconstitutional

Campaign to end the death penalty!

PREVIOUS POST - In The Mirror

IN THE MIRROR

We have been witness to boots grinding out an empire
For the flabby bellies in their Lexington Executive Chairs
And their chubby, insolent little nuclear diet-boned families
And pair of table-scrap nourished, incorrigibly impish lapdogs.

These heirs to rich deserts poured by a deprived and slaving flesh
Have we the inheritors of tomorrow looking on, seeing naught,
Feeling nothing but the destitute staring back at us in the mirror,
Seeing in our eyes things we’d not tell our closest, dearest friends.

Democracy's body is before us, slumped over like a one-armed whore,
Our eyes are as wide as virginity, and they, the CEOs, looking smirked,
Satisfied of profits, cackle at the shivering, homeless, irrelevant urchins
Under the ghostly sky slapping against the bleeding rump of the future.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

PREVIOUS POST - BANISH THE PAIN

BANISH THE PAIN

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Newly Found Gene Mutation Banishes Pain

A Pakistani teenager who entertained street crowds by walking on hot coals and sticking knives through his arms has led scientists to find a genetic defect that renders its carriers unable to feel pain.
Scientists at the University of Cambridge in England pinpointed the cause: a defect in a gene that codes for a protein on the surface of pain-sensing nerve cells.
They found mutations in a gene for a particular protein called the 1.7 sodium channel. This is a sort of gate that opens and shuts on the surface of the nerve cells. When the gate opens, sodium ions flood into the cell, causing it to fire. In children with the defect, the gate is welded shut. So their pain nerves cannot fire.
A report in the journal Nature details six individuals with the mutation in three related families. They feel no pain, but are apparently normal in every other way, sensing both touch and temperature.

We must be unhurried.
We must be tender.
We must return
the soldier’s gaze
with some reflection.

Banish the pain.

Remember it is not a motion picture
of dogs and rabbits or funny little elves,
it is happening,
it is real,
its teeth, gnawing.

Banish the pain.

Now is the moment,
the time to recall the redness
of these events,
write them down,
record the words.

Banish the pain.

We must forget our pride.
We must forget ourselves.
We must remember the providence of man,
of those who say goodbye in the broil;
the unknown measure of war.

Banish the pain.

Without apology or resentment
strive for all humanity;
the beautiful faces, red desire, soft pulses,
dreams of hope, tranquility,
triumph of goodness.

Banish the pain.

We must honor humanity
with a burning exactness,
a studied thought, a selfless heart.
We must honor the gravely broken earth
filled with the victims of war.

Banish the pain.

Now is the moment,
the occasion to document-
Odd that we should lovingly etch
upon war-carved headstones
“rest in peace”.

After meeting with Pentagon leaders, President Bush says he would continue to develop his own review of the war policy in Iraq. The president rejected ideas he had heard from some unnamed quarters that would, he said, "lead to defeat."
Bush Rejects Ideas That 'Lead to Defeat' in Iraq -by Guy Raz

CUADP - Memorial to all victims of war

Impeach Bush and banish the pain...

PREVIOUS POST - PENTAGON CHRIST

THE SUPREME POWER

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Dead Nazi by Ben Heine - Cartoons

Annan to US: Stay fully engaged

"More than ever, today, Americans, like the rest of humanity, need a functioning global system through which the world's peoples can face global challenges together. And in order to function, the system still cries out for far-sighted American leadership, in the Truman tradition," he said.

The supreme power is America.
The supreme unaided America
Casts away the many nations,
Discarding the various faces.

We must remember them!
We must trace the fallen,
The selfless troops of slaughter,
The beaten, shot, and bombed.

The blood still rears up like untamed death.
Tortured souls, arrows drifting on Idigina,
Course toward a yawning Persian Gulf
To be emptied there, forever missing.

O! Great land of freedom!
See thyself in the rivers manifestation
And fall upon thy bloody knees,
Humbled, before the world comes calling.

Profess thy sins, divulge thy wrongs.
This earth’s soul screeches death's song!
If thou answer not... darkness will rumble;
In whose name shall the future be created?

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

PREVIOUS POST - CYRUS THE GREAT

CLACK THE TEETH!

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"Painter"

What Jesus had against the church of Thyatira was that "You suffer that woman Jezebel, which calls herself a prophetess, to teach and to seduce my servants to commit fornication and to eat things sacrificed unto idols. And I gave her space to repent of her fornication and she repented not. Behold, I will cast her into a bed, and them that commit adultery with her into great tribulation, except they repent of their deeds."

Jezebel is a figurative and spiritual name for us. The Thyratiran church continues to this day and the Jezebel spirit manifests herself in the church and reaches to the highest pinnacles of government. The prophecy of the tribulation is in these last days and includes the greater part of Christendom that has allowed idolatry and the Jezebel spirit to flourish in the church and subsequently into all areas of society. Without an attitude of holiness, grace turns into licentiousness. Jezebel by Jay Atkinson

"Croupe"

CLACK THE TEETH

Under our blue sky
Swims a curious thing;
A monster soon born.

With their rifles aimed within
They clack their hate filled teeth
And with dreams shadowed in sin
Let fly self-righteous speech!

Airwaves wrangle of the unborn object;
“Who’s to blame?”
“It will be an evil thing!”
“Born of Lucifer!”
“Outrageous!”
“God will punish this nation!”

The two women, heavy-eyed,
(And cause of all this turmoil),
Wait for life to mount and come forth
With small hands and soul.

Proud and smiling- “They should be ashamed!”
“It will carry curses in the midst of saints!”

Buckled exactness shaped like pain
With its tiny hands-
“Stirring our waters into a rotting lake!”

O! God! God! Goddamn them!
Under our blue sky swims a curious thing;
A monster soon born!

People living backward will not stand for this!
They have plans for earth!
For our life!
For eternity!
O! A fine thing; their living!
A fine thing; their death!

“Stone these women!”
“Cut off their probing hands!”
“These Jezebels of gloom
Shall not bring a life here!”

Under our blue sky swims a curious thing,
Whirling, godforsaken, over a battling world!

In this time of war
We should welcome life…
Not condemn it!
And the cold faces of Christ need melt
And their hearts made softer
And their rifles
(Poised to murder, aimed)
Lowered
And for flowers exchanged.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

Ben Heine - Erotico

C@L - Talk About Mary Cheney's Baby

SEPARATE INCIDENTS

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BAGHDAD, Iraq - Ten U.S. troops were killed in Iraq on Wednesday, a major blow on the same day a high-level panel in Washington recommended gradually shifting U.S. forces from a combat to a training role.
The bipartisan Iraq Study Group released recommendations for changing course in the country, saying
President Bush's policy in Iraq "is not working." The Iraqi government said the U.S. report did "not come as a surprise," and it agreed that Iraq must take the lead in its own security.
"The situation is grave, very grave in fact, and cannot be tolerated," Deputy Prime Minister Barham Saleh said on the pan-Arab satellite TV channel Al-Arabiya. "Absolute dependence on foreign troops is not possible. The focus must be on boosting the Iraqi security forces." -By KIM GAMEL, Associated Press Writer (Full article...)

Coiling. Blooming.
Rumbling capital.
December 05, 2003.
Sounds of distant
Holidays’ ...booming.
God.

Cities long past their autumn.
George W. Bush.
Trees scraping
The squatting luminaries.
Burnt orange are the trees.
Dick Cheney.

No pleasure in frigid lifelessness…

Dogs howl
The scowling moon.
Bill Frist.
Pitiless are the mongrels
Greedily devouring children.
Condoleeza Rice.

All of this in the name of
A calamity-glooming worship.
Fred Phelps.
Under horrifying expressions
And last rites.
Donald Rumsfeld.

Boiling. Booming.
Shrieking center.
December 06, 2006.
Deafening noise
Over motionless homes.
Deus ex machina.

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

Ben Heine - Cartoons (Highly recommended)

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It is due time I featured my friend and colleague

Mr. Ben Heine

"A Poetic Justice".

Ben's art speaks for itself.

ALLOW BEN'S ART...

TO BRING...

YOU TO...

HIS TRUTH.

And that's just the tip of the brush...

One of the most highly recommended sites on the net -

Ben Heine - Cartoons!

The Right Brothers Are WRONG (Ann Coulter song rewrite)

VIEW VIDEO AND READ POEM +/-

A parody on the banal song "I Love Ann coulter"

Watch this video to get a taste for the lyrics and then read my take on the song. It's just a silly song (poem) mocking an even sillier song by the Right Brothers.

NO WAY IN HELL THEY'RE IN LOVE WITH ANN COULTER

She’s got nasty hair... skinny legs….
And a FOX-News intellect!
She’s a plagiarizer…a bulimic dieter,
I just hope she’s into jumpin' off ledges!

She captures neocon hearts
Sells lies from the start
I know the tramp’s so damned pecuuuulllliar…
I can’t stomach Ann Coulter!
When all I wanna do is choke her…
And have her see her final E-K-G...
Just like she does... in my dreams!

I wonder, “Do they want to be her boyfriend?”
Cause they’ve gotta be a wheezin’...
Tellin’ Ann that she’s their fantasy.
They gotta see a man is their lover…

No way in hell they’re in love with Ann Coulter!

Each time her mouth’s upon their vertical fantasy
Or they look in her orbs they know
She’s charging them a whorrrrrin' fee…

They can’t be in love with her!
When all I wanna do is choke her
And have her see her final E-K-G
Just like she does in my dreams!

Fools memorize her pages
Just like Mark-pedo-Foley!
Imps quote her books at work
With their Godless smirks
They don’t live in reality!
There’s much they don’t know of her
But by the day they’re gettin' bolder,
Tellin’ me I want tyrrrrrranny,
I should be on my knees to her
Cuz they’re in love with Ann Coulter!?

No way in hell they’re in love with her!
How the hell can they be in love with her?
No way they’re in love with her…?

No way in hell they’re in love with Ann Coulter!

If you can handle an overabundance of inane lyrics and banality then venture to the links below.

(This blog is not responsible for the possible brain damage that may occur from visiting the following sites.)

The Right Brothers' Web Site

The Right Brothers' songs

UNwanted

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Bolton, who, for more than a year, was blocked by Democrats and several Republicans including Sen. Lincoln Chafee (news, bio, voting record), a moderate Republican who lost in the midterm elections Nov. 7 that swept Democrats to power in both houses of Congress, resigns his U.N. Ambassadorship. This is his ode.

Obdurate-fuming-man, pig-headed
against a world’s independence
have found the blade in empire
UNder the heel of freedom’s boot.

No more shall you bellow and boil
your contempt for charity and truth.
With your hooked claws now blunted,
sleep and hope you’ll disturb no more.

Your acts of ascendancy drawn,
hemorrhaging, fatigued, UNcovered,
our loosely fitted blindfold
reveals now your crafted hold.

Obdurate-fuming-man, pig-headed
against humanity’s dominion,
found now UNneeded and UNwanted
and your plans thus UNdone.

Bush accepts Bolton's U.N. resignation

Listed on Crooks and Liars thanks to Blue Gal

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman