Tag Archive | Putin

Blue Shift

Inner Sense Of Direction

Any decrease in wavelength across the spectrum
Of a country divided must show an increase
In the heart-centered frequency of its people.
Zombified, the deplorables haven’t much pull.
Skirmishes will be noted. The madness will cease,
And the saner majority shall overcome.

In the toilet of Putin a mass of feces
Sits and stinks to low Hades of worldwide abuse.
History has not written yet what will unfold.
The sick souls of a small group are bought and controlled.
Human weakness exploited, evil will seduce
Politicians of purpose with relative ease.

In the visible spectrum of light can be seen
All the colors that make up world that is known.
Universal expansion, from our perspective,
Is without and within. And the way that we live
Reflects pitiful light upon how much we’ve grown.
Civil Rights is the target of the hate machine.

Yet, my view is blue shifted. The bias I own
Is of someone who’s hated for simply being.
So, I’ll claim some authority. That is my choice.
Everyone in a free nation has their own voice.
If it don’t do a whole lot, it’s awful freeing
To respond to the bullshit in my chosen tone.

Trollfactory Bulb

Toxic Awareness

Fake spam comments from Russia a half a mile long
Are the only ones I get. At least I exist.
Yet you need not enlighten me. My sense of smell
Keeps me mindful of danger. Though you may excel
At controlling behavior, your work is dismissed
As a dark and faint echo of having done wrong.

At least write in plain English. Cyrillic I don’t know.
It looks too much like hogwash imbedded with spew
Of the coldest resentment the heart can withstand.
You can speak with my accent. I know that you can
Act as if you’re the best friend that I ever knew.
I became keen to your sickness some time ago.

I once worked at a factory. Dog food they made.
I lasted ‘til near lunchtime. The smell made me sick.
I don’t feed my dog dog food. I know better now
How people out gross animals. I made a vow
To trust in the olfactory. Smell is the trick
To discerning the fear bear. I am not afraid.

You’ve invented the troll farm. We know that by now.
Trolls are lowly paid workers who work with no light.
They can see what they’re doing by watching we fools
As we flail about aimlessly with broken rules.
What I offer to all is my deepest insight
For what it may be worth and what you may allow.

Psychic Peek At A Puter

Crack of Putin

Something like a computer, a Vladimir Puter
Assumes an identity somewhat human.
An asshole of a neural net masters the mind
In the mold of a tyrant for all humankind
Who had nearly succeeded in his master plan
To reshape the whole world to what he would prefer.

Still, a world class accomplishment to have sewn hate
Throughout many a nation, he feels not that well.
His own people are waking up from their deep sleep
In a bitter cold governance as frozen sheep.
Why does he not feel powerful? Close aids can tell
Unidentified enemies may seal his fate.

True… this Puter likes poison. It’s lethal and sure
To eliminate nuisances who misbehave.
Some soldier in the galley knows of his fine taste
And is feeding him slowly. Soon he will be waste.
What would be then most fitting to put on his grave?
“Once there lived a great Puter. Now he is manure.”