Showing posts with label Malkin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malkin. Show all posts
SCREECHING DAMNED DARKNESS
You with
Your hairy full stern faces of fiery bottom’s witchery,
You with
Your yellow spines bereft of an iota of valor,
You with
Your Beelzebub lips shitting forth a craven confusion,
You with
Your vacant eyes swimming of jaded rhetoric,
You with
Your cuckolding the asbestos burdened air in weak-kneed butchery,
I say to hell with the whole damn lot of you unholy sycophants!
Go ahead and pinch off your fecal-end of maliciousness and seditiousness
And your bile-filled words wrought from damnation’s bungling lexicon.
Bray upon the low road, bellow within the vile sewer of your lies.
You goddamned soulless creatures have seen your everlasting final day!
Your last day where you are not met by most wicked and wailing wrath,
Unmet by citizenry consuming your depraved and hopeless declarations.
In Dante’s Inferno of unbearable, ceaseless screeching damned darkness,
All shall witness your skull-cracked, spine-split, loveless passing
And spit upon your shadow as you flail and wail the ultimate descent.
Malkin, Coulter, Hinderaker, Limbaugh, Horowitz, and the like,
It would behoove you to belly up to Jesus while you’ve the chance.
Drop to your Tupperware knees and fervently beseech his forgiveness.
Pray that his bloody fists do not rain down Hell on your comeuppance!
You with
Your devil’s axe-in-the-back bewitching gaze,
You with
Your lowly spittle-driven bunker-bombs,
You with
Your odious goddamned quarrel,
You with
Your last dash, your final sound, your deep pocketed lies,
You with
Your whore’s logic and godless-jawed baneful tongues,
These, your words, will fall upon the deaf ears of those living
Now long abused where planets tremble.
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
Inspired by Unclaimed Territory
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Grimace...
(A Poetic Justice Collage)
Grimace...
midnight of your age(You've written a play, Fool? For whom? The king?)
What is it that you know that we do not?
What is it that a scurrilous-faced fiend
brings to this; the pulsating light?
Why, at the
do you twist such horrible faces
and hurl such abandoned rubbish
upon the ominous lance of vanity?
You’ve neither the will
nor the bravery to soar,
dart yourself in and out of the absurdly pitched quagmire
of red-white-and-blue.
Your demeanor sops the very honey of life,
drains the usefulness of all that is good.
You’ve neither the mindset
nor the nobility to act heroically.
So why do you pretend?
Why do you make-believe
as if you’re anything but what you are;
an inept hack.
A fad.
A clown.
A fool's fool.
A know-nothing pawn.
Your play, in its final act, is a tragedy.
Tell us what you know that is unknown to the eagle?
What would you tell the fish darting in and out
the murky waves scornful of your oily laughter?
How purified things will be after you launch your grimace!
The fish, Ms. Malkin, fear the eagle’s shadow less…
Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman
Thanks to Sadly No and Crooks and Liars for the inspiration.