Poetry
Gordon's contribution to the art form (may God help us all...)
ODE TO A NEEDLE: RESISTANCE IS RISING
COVID and Mu,
Oh, what shall I do?
I'm feeling locked down,
I'm wearing a frown.
I'm wearing a mask... it
Beats wearing a casket.
I'm staying away,
From humans today.
'Cause people have bugs,
So please, no more hugs.
Or we might get infected,
And then get injected.
By nurses with needles.
I plead, and I wheedle.
But stick me they must.
So they say, and I trust...
They know what they're doing.
But something is brewing.
'Cause people are dying.
Their loved ones are crying.
Folks dropping like flies.
And it don't look too wise,
To be getting the stab.
Volunteer for the jab.
'Cause once it goes in,
Spiked proteins will win,
When immunity stops,
And you fill up with clots.
And your heart almost stops,
And longevity drops.
Seems the cure for infection,
Ain't lethal injection!
It pains me to say.
It should not be this way.
When tyrants are loose,
It's time for a noose.
Just ask Mussolini,
Got dragged by his weenie,
Out into the street,
To be hanged by his feet.
History teaches,
That pols are oft leeches,
In dresses and suits,
And storm trooper boots.
So maybe it's time,
I should finish this rhyme.
Stop having some fun.
And go get a gun?
When cops come to say,
"Your shot is today!"
You let them know true.
"Shoot me? Shoot you!"
DO LIKE THE ROMANS DO
The Roman empire, they had it all.
From Brittany to the end of Gaul.
The seat of power was in its flower.
And Caesar was strutting tall.
But that all ended soon enough.
Seems old Augustus wasn't so tough.
The bottom fell out, the edges crumbled.
Rome soon fell and the Empire stumbled.
Two thousand years then came to pass.
For history to repeat at last.
Along came Uncle Sam and the boys.
To rumble again and make some noise.
Yes, Empire was back and walking tall.
The Earth was the prize, they'd have it all.
But Empires don't last, when will we all learn?
Nero move over, it's Sam's turn to burn.
So now let's [set to waltz time]...
Do like the Romans do.
America, you're through.
You took your best shot.
Was that all that you got?
Retire the red, white and blue.
Let's do like the Romans done.
Their empire had its fun.
Their republic it rotted,
Their leaders besotted.
The Huns put them all on the run!
Yes, when the New Rome caves in.
There'll be such an awful din.
Gallows and guillotines,
Pitchforks and rope.
Something to give the taxpayers hope.
So do like the Romans did.
Turn out the lights and get rid.
Of corruption and crime,
Graft, payoffs and slime.
Chop up the bums and feed them to squid!
'PO'-ETRY
Stocks be plungin', charts be down.
Money Honies wearin' frowns.
Better hoard some toilet paper.
Get some beans, dis ain't no caper.
Stuff looks dire; stuff looks gloomy.
Families mergin', ain't too roomy.
When homies riot, honkies quake.
FEMA's comin', listen Jake.
How you like your MRE's?
Toasted, roasted if you please.
A SHOT IN THE DARK
They lie to us behind our backs.
That none should fear their toxic vaxx.
See how they smile, cajole and wheedle!
"Let us stick you with this needle."
Brothers, sisters, don't buy this trick!
Their shot will only make you sick.
For Fauci is a little pr*ck.
Who sucks our freedoms like a tick.
ODE TO THE FEDERAL RESERVE NOTE (2010)
I promise to pay,
I promise to pay,
They print me by night,
They print me by day.
I promise to pay,
Not in gold; that's OK.
'Don't worry, be happy!,'
I heard the Fed say.
I promise to pay,
You can trust me, hey, hey!
They blanket the Earth
With my promise to pay.
I promise to pay,
I promise to stay,
But just how much longer?
Dunno, I can't say.
I am, they declare,
The most legal of tender.
But pass me around,
And you're slave to the lender.
The Fed is not federal,
There are no reserves.
He who denies that,
Gets what he deserves.
Created on Jekyll,
Now where shall I Hyde?;
When the people discover
My Creators all lied?
I promise to pay.
Cross my heart; Do you pray?
God is eternal. But me?
Nope, no way.
(I'll promise to pay,
'Til you rue the day,
I vanish to dust
And am gone far away.)
You didn't buy silver.
You didn't buy gold.
You didn't buy bullion,
Bar, ingot or rolled.
Your fear of collapse
Is most surely half mental.
Don't dwell on the past,
It ain't worth a Continental.
You trusted in George.
And that was just handy.
You trusted in Ben,
In Ulysses and Andy.
Each spoke the hard truth about
Money of paper.
Now mocked on the notes they despised,
What a caper!
The face on the $10
Is that fop, Alexander.
Who caused such a flap that
Bold Aaron cried 'Slander!'
Burr shot him at dawn,
Somewhere deep in the wood.
The duel was now over.
'Twas all for the good.
Our country's first Father,
And President too,
Had trusted young Alex
To see the war through.
Appointed him Treasury's
First Secretary,
For Hamilton gave him,
No cause to be wary.
But Hamilton had
A most federalist hanker,
To plunder the People
With him as their banker.
His patrons in Europe
Had failed with the spear.
Now duped by the checkbook,
The folk would pay dear.
The People cast votes for
Their leaders: Such fools!
(It's those with the Gold who
Make all the rules.)
I promise to pay.
In just what, I can't say.
Confidence, Dear,
Will carry the day.
I promise to pay.
In more paper, oy vey!
Just pass me along
To the next fool, I say.
You trust in my paper?
Too late! Take a pill.
I'll skip on the dinner,
And leave you the bill.
You trusted in Volker,
Now there was a man.
Who did what he had to,
A man with a plan.
You trusted in Alan,
Your error was grave.
Hark, what is that sound?
Rand twirls in her grave.
Big Al waxed all sunny,
When writing of gold,
As the only true money,
But then he got old, and...
... forgot his von Mises;
Spoke oft with forked tongue.
In Jefferson's day,
He would have been hung*!
(If clipping the dollar,
Were still a foul crime,
Big Al'd be the counterfeit
Champ of all time!)
Bernanke must now make,
A pact with the Devil,
Who knows for a fact
Ben's not on the level.
I promise to say,
That I'll promise to pay.
Right up to the final,
Financial doomsday.
The day when you'll ask:
Where were all the heroes?
Home watching tee-vee.
But there aren't enough zeroes...
... to make me worth squat,
Yea, I'll soon come to naught.
Our digital nation,
In hyperinflation.
When prices will soar,
It's happened before,
Big Ben in his chopper,
Bucks drop by the score.
The music can't stop,
There'd be far too few chairs.
So keep the band playing.
And let's say our prayers.
We'll meet in the soup lines,
Remember the good times,
Before the bell tolled;
We should have bought gold.
* The reader will forgive this small degree of poetic license. The proper verb when speaking of permanently increasing the vertical dimension of errant central bankers is "hang," of which the past tense is "hanged."
COVID and Mu,
Oh, what shall I do?
I'm feeling locked down,
I'm wearing a frown.
I'm wearing a mask... it
Beats wearing a casket.
I'm staying away,
From humans today.
'Cause people have bugs,
So please, no more hugs.
Or we might get infected,
And then get injected.
By nurses with needles.
I plead, and I wheedle.
But stick me they must.
So they say, and I trust...
They know what they're doing.
But something is brewing.
'Cause people are dying.
Their loved ones are crying.
Folks dropping like flies.
And it don't look too wise,
To be getting the stab.
Volunteer for the jab.
'Cause once it goes in,
Spiked proteins will win,
When immunity stops,
And you fill up with clots.
And your heart almost stops,
And longevity drops.
Seems the cure for infection,
Ain't lethal injection!
It pains me to say.
It should not be this way.
When tyrants are loose,
It's time for a noose.
Just ask Mussolini,
Got dragged by his weenie,
Out into the street,
To be hanged by his feet.
History teaches,
That pols are oft leeches,
In dresses and suits,
And storm trooper boots.
So maybe it's time,
I should finish this rhyme.
Stop having some fun.
And go get a gun?
When cops come to say,
"Your shot is today!"
You let them know true.
"Shoot me? Shoot you!"
DO LIKE THE ROMANS DO
The Roman empire, they had it all.
From Brittany to the end of Gaul.
The seat of power was in its flower.
And Caesar was strutting tall.
But that all ended soon enough.
Seems old Augustus wasn't so tough.
The bottom fell out, the edges crumbled.
Rome soon fell and the Empire stumbled.
Two thousand years then came to pass.
For history to repeat at last.
Along came Uncle Sam and the boys.
To rumble again and make some noise.
Yes, Empire was back and walking tall.
The Earth was the prize, they'd have it all.
But Empires don't last, when will we all learn?
Nero move over, it's Sam's turn to burn.
So now let's [set to waltz time]...
Do like the Romans do.
America, you're through.
You took your best shot.
Was that all that you got?
Retire the red, white and blue.
Let's do like the Romans done.
Their empire had its fun.
Their republic it rotted,
Their leaders besotted.
The Huns put them all on the run!
Yes, when the New Rome caves in.
There'll be such an awful din.
Gallows and guillotines,
Pitchforks and rope.
Something to give the taxpayers hope.
So do like the Romans did.
Turn out the lights and get rid.
Of corruption and crime,
Graft, payoffs and slime.
Chop up the bums and feed them to squid!
'PO'-ETRY
Stocks be plungin', charts be down.
Money Honies wearin' frowns.
Better hoard some toilet paper.
Get some beans, dis ain't no caper.
Stuff looks dire; stuff looks gloomy.
Families mergin', ain't too roomy.
When homies riot, honkies quake.
FEMA's comin', listen Jake.
How you like your MRE's?
Toasted, roasted if you please.
A SHOT IN THE DARK
They lie to us behind our backs.
That none should fear their toxic vaxx.
See how they smile, cajole and wheedle!
"Let us stick you with this needle."
Brothers, sisters, don't buy this trick!
Their shot will only make you sick.
For Fauci is a little pr*ck.
Who sucks our freedoms like a tick.
ODE TO THE FEDERAL RESERVE NOTE (2010)
I promise to pay,
I promise to pay,
They print me by night,
They print me by day.
I promise to pay,
Not in gold; that's OK.
'Don't worry, be happy!,'
I heard the Fed say.
I promise to pay,
You can trust me, hey, hey!
They blanket the Earth
With my promise to pay.
I promise to pay,
I promise to stay,
But just how much longer?
Dunno, I can't say.
I am, they declare,
The most legal of tender.
But pass me around,
And you're slave to the lender.
The Fed is not federal,
There are no reserves.
He who denies that,
Gets what he deserves.
Created on Jekyll,
Now where shall I Hyde?;
When the people discover
My Creators all lied?
I promise to pay.
Cross my heart; Do you pray?
God is eternal. But me?
Nope, no way.
(I'll promise to pay,
'Til you rue the day,
I vanish to dust
And am gone far away.)
You didn't buy silver.
You didn't buy gold.
You didn't buy bullion,
Bar, ingot or rolled.
Your fear of collapse
Is most surely half mental.
Don't dwell on the past,
It ain't worth a Continental.
You trusted in George.
And that was just handy.
You trusted in Ben,
In Ulysses and Andy.
Each spoke the hard truth about
Money of paper.
Now mocked on the notes they despised,
What a caper!
The face on the $10
Is that fop, Alexander.
Who caused such a flap that
Bold Aaron cried 'Slander!'
Burr shot him at dawn,
Somewhere deep in the wood.
The duel was now over.
'Twas all for the good.
Our country's first Father,
And President too,
Had trusted young Alex
To see the war through.
Appointed him Treasury's
First Secretary,
For Hamilton gave him,
No cause to be wary.
But Hamilton had
A most federalist hanker,
To plunder the People
With him as their banker.
His patrons in Europe
Had failed with the spear.
Now duped by the checkbook,
The folk would pay dear.
The People cast votes for
Their leaders: Such fools!
(It's those with the Gold who
Make all the rules.)
I promise to pay.
In just what, I can't say.
Confidence, Dear,
Will carry the day.
I promise to pay.
In more paper, oy vey!
Just pass me along
To the next fool, I say.
You trust in my paper?
Too late! Take a pill.
I'll skip on the dinner,
And leave you the bill.
You trusted in Volker,
Now there was a man.
Who did what he had to,
A man with a plan.
You trusted in Alan,
Your error was grave.
Hark, what is that sound?
Rand twirls in her grave.
Big Al waxed all sunny,
When writing of gold,
As the only true money,
But then he got old, and...
... forgot his von Mises;
Spoke oft with forked tongue.
In Jefferson's day,
He would have been hung*!
(If clipping the dollar,
Were still a foul crime,
Big Al'd be the counterfeit
Champ of all time!)
Bernanke must now make,
A pact with the Devil,
Who knows for a fact
Ben's not on the level.
I promise to say,
That I'll promise to pay.
Right up to the final,
Financial doomsday.
The day when you'll ask:
Where were all the heroes?
Home watching tee-vee.
But there aren't enough zeroes...
... to make me worth squat,
Yea, I'll soon come to naught.
Our digital nation,
In hyperinflation.
When prices will soar,
It's happened before,
Big Ben in his chopper,
Bucks drop by the score.
The music can't stop,
There'd be far too few chairs.
So keep the band playing.
And let's say our prayers.
We'll meet in the soup lines,
Remember the good times,
Before the bell tolled;
We should have bought gold.
* The reader will forgive this small degree of poetic license. The proper verb when speaking of permanently increasing the vertical dimension of errant central bankers is "hang," of which the past tense is "hanged."