Poetry Blogs (donald trump)

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The street light casts a shadow on the bedroom wall through
partly opened curtains and for a moment I see Adolf Hitler
in silhouette and I know it’s my imagination but the truth is, hate
in an orange face scares me.




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Donald TrumpHateRacism

ameriKKKan trilogy version 2.0

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amerikkkan trilogy v.2.0 (MUSIC VERSION)

can be listened to on the following link)


(1) USMF
When the KKK and the Kremlin
Are sharing their vodka and rye
When redneck mutherfuckers
are making Lady Liberty cry
When The land of the free is walled in
So pesky Mexicans can’t get by
That’s the day the rest of us
Watches A...

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donald trumpgun lawgun lobbymass shootingsUSA

For the volunteers @ Caernarfon castle - May 2017

Here we stand 'twixt mighty walls

Which once were feared by one and all

Today the bravest swordsmen's face

Jeans and jumper have replaced.

We're here for artists on display

To banish thoughts so torn astray

By Donlad Trump & Theresa May

Of meanness, cruelty and shame 

And all that humans do complain

And therefore just for a while

Replace our thoughts and hidden smile


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ArtCaernarfondonald trumpPoliticsTheresa May

Thousand Flasks: A world so racist

A thousand flasks,

residing in heaven's den,

engraved with white masks, 

with thousand souls of men.


A thousand plans,

with a particular thrill.

There are no forms to fill,

to join Ku Klux Klan.


Those thousand flasks,

contain soul of men,

who weren't white men,

killed by the white masks.


David Duke is one of those men,

Whose throne is that of d...

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demonetization in Indiadonald trumpku klux klanpotuspresidenttax evasion

Saint Hate

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Saint Hate


The day he prayed to Saint Hate

was the day he lost his soul,

spat blood on the pavement,

pissed on the homeless,

broke bones for fun.


The day he prayed to Saint Hate

he surrendered his humanity,

lit a candle to the little god

who sat upon his shoulder

adding weight to the chip.


The day he prayed to Saint Hate

he put on the white hood,


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donald trumpfascismhateinaugurationrole model


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When the KKK and the Kremlin

Are sharing their vodka and rye

When redneck mutherfuckers

are making Lady Liberty cry

When The land of the free is walled in

So pesky Mexicans can’t get by

That’s the day the rest of us

Watches America die.


When the Whitehouse houses a bigot

A misogynist ‘locker room’ fly

When a multi-billionaire

Stands for momma...

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democracydonald trumpelection

Animal Cruelty

Here is an elephant.


He knows not of what is going on

or how he got here. Neither do we.


He divides opinion, like the foul stench

of an onion in a warm room.

Some chant of its values,

smell only what they want.

Some simply cry.


The elephant fixes his tiny eye

on a mate.

“I’m gonna grab that cow by the pussy

with my tusks,” he thinks.



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donald trump

He'll Make America Great Again

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Don't give that man your tears today
Though it's dark now you'll find a way
Now is the time to laugh, sing and create
Throw the bile back at his tangerine face
I call on the punks, the poets, the artists, the revolutionaries and the visionaries, don't let the spark be snuffed out in vain
Come together and show him how you'll make yourself great again 

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american politicsdonald trumppolitical poempolitical poetrypunk poempunk poetryTrump

President Trump has control of the nuclear trigger

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They're building a wall on the border.
They question which God you revere.
The military men have their orders
to weed out the liberals and queers.
The nation is ravaged with violence.
His critics are seeking asylum.

The U.S. lies in ruin - go figure 
why the wider world is gripped with fear:
President Trump has control of the nuclear trigger.

He's ripped up the free trade agreements...

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donald trumpnuclear war

Dear Donald Trump

I don't often post on this poetry blog but I feel so strongly about this subject, I had to share it.


Dear Donald Trump


Dear Donald Trump, the thought of you as the next Leader

of the Free World makes me want to hurl. 

Has America lost her mind


to even consider a racist, sexist buffoon

who hasn’t the sense to spend a sliver of his tax-free billions

on decent hair...

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AngerDonald TrumpPolitics

Snake Oil Sells the Economy

From the front of the conference room

He wraps us in a voice born of the pulpit

Buttery and gravelly and low


He floats down from the makeshift stage

Tells of the flying fish

Gives us magic sunglasses

So we can see through water


He's here to talk about new eyes

To see what under(lies)


He's selling a new language

In it, we write our morality on the wall


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chandra mossinecultural criticismcultural critiquedonald trumppoempoetrypolitical

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