Trump’s lacking the King Midas touch,

His Reflecting Pool’s full of green slutch,

He once dreamed of big melons,

But life’s given him lemons,

Now he’ll never get near to a crotch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Le Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh,

Dé hAoine, an deichiú lá de mhí Iúil,

2026, an bhliain dhá mhíle is fiche a sé.

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https://youtu.be/NL3tirl0uaM

BRAVO, LA BELGIQUE!

Notes for the education of Trumpean MEGA MAGA numpties.

Football: a game which involves a player kicking a ball with their foot. Trump: a British English colloquialism which refers to the act of breaking wind (ie, farting).

Fitba’, as our Scottish

neighbours know it,

was once known as

The Beautiful Game,

football once ...

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“Narcissi produce a number of different alkaloids, which provide some protection for the plant, but may be poisonous if accidentally ingested. This property has been exploited for medicinal use in traditional healing and has resulted in the production of galantamine for the treatment of Alzheimer's dementia.” (From Wikipedia)

At last, a medical treatment to preserve the USA’s national treasure ...

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The music version of a poem I posted a few months back - part of the BARD COMPANY album '21st Century Bullshit Detector' (see link at foot of post if you would like to hear more

 

Leviathan

 

The senile wolf is at the door

Spewing racist chaos hate

Howling at perceived injustice

A permanent and hostile state

See the war pigs gathering round

His rancid and disgusting trou...

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‘He’s not Churchill’

Who knew?

But then the speaker isn’t Eisenhower

Isn’t Kennedy

Biden

Either of the Bushes

Isn’t Ford

Teddy Roosevelt

Isn’t Franklin D

Or Truman

Washington

Lincoln

Isn’t even Tricky Dicky

 

All these men had faults

Failings

A taste for war

Uncontained sexual appetites

A disregard for the law

One should have stuck to m...

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How brilliant is the light tonight

how brilliant is it

 

Flashes like meteors boom and bang

A festival of fireworks

Heading here and there  

 

How brilliant is the sky tonight

how brilliant is it

 

But some won’t see it

Others will  

A child points at a flashing light

And then they are in it

 

 

How deadly is the night tonight

How chillin...

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If you grovel to a bully,

You won’t become his friend.

He’ll keep on squeezing you for more;

Demands will never end.

 

If you grovel to a bully,

He will not be impressed;

He’ll pocket everything you give

And come back for the rest.

 

If you grovel to a bully,

He’ll think you can’t refuse,

So your inadequate response

Means you are bound to lose.

 

If you...

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Emboldened frat boys, in denial mode,

Egg on flat-earth freaks shinning up the walls;

With whoops and yells, they’re praying for a slip,

The raw meat on the pavement just the job

For tech-thin specimens who spout the lies

Each time that someone undeserving dies.

 

Outside, the times are hard in snow and ice,

But no one gives a monkey’s in the warm;

The big boys’ moon mac...

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Boots on the ground,

Lights in the face;

The new world order

Falls into place.

 

No need for laws,

No need for rules;

The mighty win,

The weakest falls.

 

Dictators smirk,

The tyrants grin;

No comeback now

For reigns of sin.

 

The truth is dead,

Long live the lies;

Justice is served

Between the eyes.

 

 

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Leviathan

 

The senile wolf is at the door

Spewing racist chaos and hate

Howling at perceived injustice

A permanent and hostile state

See the war pigs gathering round

His rancid and disgusting trough

This is where the demons shelter

Raise their fascist banners aloft

 

This is now the new world order

See the storm clouds across the skies

Where the warlords and...

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Here, gents, is my new golden ballroom,

where I’ll make all the ladies’ hearts zoom:

but as daily I dance,

with dear golden-balls Vance,

I doom children from womb unto tomb.

 

 

Le Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Dé Céadoin, an ceathrú lá déag de mhí Eanáir,

An bhliain dhá mhíle is fiche a sé.

(Wednesday, 14th January 2026)

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You live the season of grovel,

Of royal visits, Nobel Prize.

A gaudy blanket of faint praise

Spreads out before your very eyes,

And no one makes a mention of

Your record of pathetic lies.

 

You’re sitting on your gilded throne,

Accumulating all your cash;

You take revenge upon your foes

While spouting out your daily trash,

And will not bother to turn up

And figh...

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Trump:                             “I’m Great”

                                        “I’m Great”

                                        “I’m Great”

 

Netanyahu:                   “I’m Great”

                                      “I’m Great”

                                      “I’m Great”

 

Trump:                           “You’re Great”

                             ...

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Trump, he wants

a Nobel Prize,

whilst Starmer,

equally despised,

hands down, gets

the No Balls Prize.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Hitler has only got one ball,
Göring has two but very small,
Himmler is rather sim'lar,
But poor old Starmer has no balls at all.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>...

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When Hitler’s blazing bombs crashed down,

And you fought the flames with zeal,

Imagine if some man-child screamed:

‘You gotta make a deal!’

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On August 15, 2025, Putin and Trump are going to meet in Alaska, a stage for reflexive control, the concept devised by Wladimir Lefebvre. The KGB-trained Russian leader will manipulate Trump, shaping his desires to serve Moscow’s goals, all in full view of the world.

A dead man’s work now joins the meeting’s glare,
Lefebvre’s design, a trap disguised as care.
The KGB had honed this patient ar...

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There’s a summit in Alaska,

With Don and his mate Vlad.

They’re going to talk about Ukraine;

The omens are quite bad.

 

They’re due to feast on gourmet food;

Their hot thirsts will be slaked,

But any deal that’s hammered out

Is bound to be half-baked.

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I want the Nobel Prize

The one they give for Peace

I want the Nobel Prize

So give it to me please

It’s not that I’m needy,

Ignorant, profane

It’s just I need an ego massage

Now and again

 

Give me that fucking prize

It shouldn’t be a drama

You gave it Jimmy Carter, Mandela and Obama

Give me the prize

I’m feeling Presidential

Or I’ll push the nuclear button

...

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This poem is meant to be a stark warning to the Nobel Committee: awarding Donald Trump the Peace Prize would not only mock the values it stands for, but stain its legacy with hypocrisy, division, and deception.

Oh Nobel minds, in hallowed seat,
Let not your purpose taste defeat.
The world looks on with wary eyes—
Will justice bend or truth arise?

They whisper Trump deserves the crow...

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On June 25, 2025, during President Donald Trump’s visit to the Royal Palace in The Hague, an unexpected moment of levity stole the spotlight. After King Willem-Alexander politely asked Trump whether he had slept well the previous night, Queen Máxima playfully mimicked the President’s response— imitating his tone and mannerisms with theatrical flair. The moment, caught on camera, quickly went viral...

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In Gaza a baby got blown to bits

Whilst Trump got some new golfing tips

He waited patiently for a hole in one

And - for Palestinians to be gone

Then, GazVegas baby! he could build!

Well…

as soon as the blood & guts were swilled 

 

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Donald Trump’s much-hyped military parade yesterday to mark the 250th anniversary of the US Army turned into a soggy, costly spectacle that failed to draw the expected crowds or enthusiasm. Despite spending millions and show- casing tanks and troops, the event was marred by poor weather, low attendance, and a muted atmosphere. Even the president and his closest allies appeared bored or ...

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On June 14, 2025, Donald Trump turns 79 and demands a military parade for himself—echoing authoritarian shows, not democratic traditions. This coincides with the U.S. Army’s 250th anniversary, overshadowed by his personal spectacle. The same day marks 40 years since the Schengen Agreement, Europe’s promise of free movement now challenged by rising border controls. Meanwhile, protests...

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In a shocking display of unchecked power, President Donald Trump deploys the National Guard to California without the governor’s consent, violating long-standing legal norms and stoking political chaos for personal gain. Under the guise of immigration enforcement, this move targets political rival Gavin Newsom and distracts from Trump’s public fallout with Elon Musk. Backed by loyalists li...

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One June-born morn, he rose again,
From slumber deep, through fog and rain.
Top hat askew, stars slightly worn,
He blinked - confused, both proud and torn.

The billboards screamed in crimson red:
“Make America Great Again,” it said.
He frowned, recalling distant years,
Of sacrifice, of hopes, of tears.

He scrolled the screen with weathered hands:
Tax cuts, coal, divided lands.
Judges...

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The ethnic cleansing was a beautiful thing

It really was

Those herded into pastures new

Gobbled the green grass gratefully 

Joyous in subservience 

One day, they may be allowed to return 

To play a round of golf

Or sip cocktails on the sands of their forefathers…

In distant lands, a glorious dictator glows

Like the sun

Basking in magnificent megalomania 

Estab...

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Donald Trump once again revealed his disregard for diplomacy — this time by confronting South African President Cyril Ramaphosa with a baseless claim of “genocide” against white farmers. One of his so-called pieces of evidence turned out to be a misused image from the Congo, not South Africa, a proof for Trump’s deficit in education. This poem delivers a sharp, unsparing critique of Trum...

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From the blues came rock & roll

Music to fill an empty soul

Teens watched movies in their cars

Dean & Brando, immortal stars

They sent men up to the moon!

Whilst Disney conjured magical cartoons

Little ol’ Blighty, seemed so dull

In shadow of America's neon pull

A place to be who you wanted to be

A land of true democracy 

Like a big brother standing tall

To pr...

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In a grotesque display of ego and irreverence, Donald Trump crowned himself a mock pope on his own media platform, Truth Social—just days after solemnly attending a funeral in Rome. This biting sonnet lays bare the vulgarity of spectacle overpowering sanctity, turning mourning into meme and the Eternal City into a stage for narcissism.

 

When fools parade in robes they’ve never e...

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A maniac in power, reckless, & untamed, No president like him, no one the same. An outsider, a showman, with nothing to prove, Trump’s hundred days, a twisted groove. Erratic and errant, his temper a storm, A weather vane spinning, no steady form. One moment here, the next he’s away, Like mercury shifting, night into day. A dictator’s dream, with power to bend, He signs,...

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I’ve just been brushing up my Shakespeare, having been inspired by JC’s post.

(With apologies to both GF Handel and Shakin’ Will).

Here’s a brief extract from a little-known scatological work, The Scent of a Madman.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that the Jester's words: "The Trump it shall sound" are a reference to

the words of the Bible in 1. Corinthians 15:52.

G.F. Handel also allud...

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Madman, no plan, fake tan

Own reflection, goes in one direction = small erection

Crackpot, despot, lie-a-lot

Inside trading, liberty taking, democracy baiting 

Commie kissing, wind pissing 

Ethnic cleansing, Nazi defending

Law defying, weird hair flying

Trumped up little

Star Spangled BLAGGER! 

 

(Well, if a president can rant like a hormonal teenager in public, ...

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‘Savoury stuff. That’s the ticket,’

Said my friend in the canteen queue.

Naturally more circumspect,

I asked ‘Is that potato real?’

‘You’re joking,’ quipped Young Doris

(Old Doris was doing desserts),

And piled the slop up on my plate.

Those lunches hit you where it hurts.

 

Finding a table, we sat down,

With colleagues in old overalls,

Who talked of hangings and o...

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"Malice in Blunderland Or: Executive Disorder" is a searing political ballad that dissects Donald Trump through the lens of Dr. John Gartner’s diagnosis of malignant narcissism, the most dangerous, pathological form of narcissism . The poem wants to reveal how Trump’s unchecked ego and impulsive rage destroy truth, justice, and global stability, replacing dialogue with dominance ...

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They said the law was ironclad, Two terms—no more—was all he had. No man could take the seat again, No vote could bring him back to reign. Yet buried deep within the code, A hidden path, a secret road. Not banned from power, just the race, He’d claim the throne from second place. Then Peabody, with studied hand, Exposed the flaw, the law’s weak stand: “A man who’s served his legal ...

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I fell into a fever of dreams

Where nothing was as it seems

The world had changed, liberty frail

Captain Ahab v the great white whale

I saw the moon turning red

The autumn leaves crisply dead

Underfoot and underhand

Fill the graves with shifting sands

When Heaven falls, Hell will rise

Through corporate suits, & silken ties

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These two sharp and cheeky limericks poke fun at Trump’s famously long tie — and what it might be compensating for. They each want to wrap political satire and playful innuendo into five perfect lines.

Trump’s tie hangs down to his thigh, to distract from what’s small — wonder why? He shouts and he brags, but rumour still nags: It’s all just a well-tailored lie. And another:

Tru...

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Fawn, Lick and Grovel’s advice has come in:

Turn the other cheek, take it on the chin.

It’s should be simple to sit there and grin,

While he spills all his gibberish and bile

(In other circumstances, you might smile).

You have to be his stooge and feel his smack,

And grit your teeth as you’re stabbed in the back.

A handshake with the king, or fulsome praise,

May push humili...

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The Fall of the False Saviour is supposed to be a powerful vision of the future, where the charade of Trump and Musk’s reign will hopefully collapse into oblivion. The people will rise, their eyes opened to the truth, and the empire of deceit will crumble. A new era will dawn—one where the voices of the people are heard again, and the corrupt are erased from memory. The false saviours will fa...

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Oh, supreme maestro of chaos well devised
Thou who dost turn falsehoods into legacy prized
Thy hair, the clouds of a kitsch tempest wild
Thy suit, a shield 'gainst truths that are reviled

"Make America great again!" thou dost proclaim
Whilst selling dreams wrought with horror and shame
Thy walls are verses in blind poetry penned
That part and divide, yet intrigue to no end

Thou, who sp...

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A chilling warning about the state of American democracy, as power consolidates under the hands of a few. With Trump and Musk at the helm, the nation’s soul is being dismantled, and the world trembles at the impending rise of a new dictatorship. This poem tries to capture the essence of a regime fuelled by greed, secrecy, and the crushing of basic freedoms, marking a dark chapter in history.

...

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Trump denies birthright’s a claim, Yet his own plays the very same game. If his rule were in place, He’d be gone without trace— Back to Kallstadt in exile and shame!

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In a calculated spectacle, Trump and Vance sought to humiliate Zelenskyy before the press, twisting truth into propaganda. Their goal? To paint Ukraine as ungrateful, to justify betrayal, and to sell capitulation as "peace." Behind them loomed Putin, tightening his grip as Trump bent to his demands. This wasn’t diplomacy—it was deception, staged for the American people and the world.

 

Tru...

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There are no allies any more,

No friends, no foes,

No right, no wrong,

No good, no bad;

Just bully boys who'll take you

For everything you had.

 

 

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At Algorithm central

it’s time to make a choice

between ChatGPT and DeepSeek

While you still have your own voice

 

It’s a race to get the brightest app

whose misleading demeanour

will leave you in some logic trap

A digital in betweener

 

We know AI will kill us all

It’s no harmless lingua franca

It’s been created just for profit

By some lawless tech bro wank...

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This poem reflects the urgent and growing tensions Europe faces—internally divided and externally threatened. With rising dangers from Russia, China, and a shifting American stance, it paints a vivid picture of the consequences of inaction.

Europe, listen—time runs thin, The storm is howling, wars begin. Trump builds walls, his hunger grows, Grabs at lands where cold wind blows. Not jus...

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They no longer carry coins.

They have wads of notes to spare,

But their instinct is to throw crumbs,

Or bits of half-eaten sandwiches.

They tell you to perform

One of those cute local dances,

Or to sing ‘Streets of London’,

Or playing a tune on the violin.

Or better still, sit up and beg,

Say how goddam grateful you are,

And hand over anything you’ve got,

Explainin...

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In defiance of the forces that manipulate and suppress, this poem calls for an "uprising" to defend truth and our freedom of speech, against the forces of censorship, fake news and misinformation led by Musk, Trump and his rebellious, subversive henchmen. Musk’s efforts to restrict or abolish "Community Notes" threaten the very foundation of truth and free expression on his platform  threat...

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This sonnet wants to capture the chaotic and relentless force of Trump’s ambitions—an unstoppable train of greed, power, and imperialism, barreling through the world, leaving disruption and destruction in its wake.
 

The world is battered, torn beneath his wheels,
A runaway of greed and steel and spite.
A thousand schemes, each twisting as it steals,
Devour the day and drown the dead of nig...

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In another recent display of self-aggrandizement, Donald Trump proclaimed himself "king" after his administration intervened to halt New York City's congestion pricing plan—a measure designed to fund the city's aging transit system. Following this action, Trump took to social media, posting "CONGESTION PRICING IS DEAD" and declaring "LONG LIVE THE KING," accompanied by an AI-generated image o...

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