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Archive for the ‘politics’ Category

16340762445_2b56a77bda_o

I thank you, God: You heard Your servant’s prayer,
My earnest plea that You hold back Your wrath
Upon the wicked city You will tear
To pieces by the seam that makes its path

Across its rotten flesh and wicked heart,
Whose mouth declares that You approve its sin,
That You approve the unborn ripped apart,
That You approve that men would lie with men.

And when Your fury shakes their darkest day,
I’m praying now that sinful men will know
That hea’en above and trembling earth below
Agreed upon the devastating blow.

I am no longer praying for delay;
Perhaps their cup of wrath is full today.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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mtJN2xi

There was a young lady who lived in a shoe;
She kept having children but knew what to do.
“I’ll kill them,” she said. “They’re better off dead.”
And she blamed all her murder on YOU.

She poisoned the first one; she killed it with salt.
Friends cheered for that woman; it wasn’t her fault.
Her boyfriend left her as soon as he knew –
“I got what I wanted. Now, lady, we’re through.”

The baby was burned and was red from the fire
But she didn’t see it and didn’t inquire.
She went on with living, no thought for the dead;           
The choice was hers, that’s what everyone said.

There was a young lady who lived in a shoe;
She charmed a new partner and bred number two.
I don’t want a child when I’m young and I’m single
I party a lot and I mix and I mingle.

She waited a while and she took a short hike
And found a good hit man to kill the new tyke.
They talked about killing, just how it’d be done.
They hit on dismemberment – that was the one!

My baby, my choice! was her battle cry
Let’s focus on that, and not that they die.
And while it was living, doc tore limb from limb
First arms, then the legs – that her or that him.

There was a young lady who lived in a shoe
She’d killed her two babies, but she wasn’t through
She’d made herself free to get on with her life
No babies would stop her, though single or wife

‘Cause she was a climber, as good as the men!
But then she got pregnant, not one blob but twin.
Oh, double the parasite, double the attack
She fell in a rage that her life was set back.

This time she’d try vacuum, yes that was the way!
She waited a bit until just the right day
And huge was the suction and tiny the tots
And when she was through there were small bloody spots.

Full half of the people thought she was just fine,
And helped her to murder repeating her line:
We can’t hold her back – SHE’S GOT LIVING TO DO!
Full half of them helped her, but what about you?

That wonderful lady who lived in a shoe
Decided that college was not for the few
Rights equal for women! On, up to the top!
Not one thing would hinder, not one thing would stop

Her living her life in her own special way
Except – she got pregnant. Which man? Couldn’t say.
She knew that, on her part, not one sacrifice!
The child that she carried would just pay the price.

And how would she get this new child off her back?
She settled this fourth time on a heart attack.
And so the death needle was plunged in its heart
Exploding the heart so the child would depart.

There are some young ladies who live in a shoe
And copulate freely – yes, that’s what they do.
Then faced with the consequence, they will not pay
But search for a hit man who will their child slay.

You think that barbaric? Then you would be right
Our nation has made this the unborn child’s plight.
MY body! MY choice! I’ll kill if I please!
And many are evil in greatest degrees.

But how about you? Is there left any good
That’s still in your heart to do what you should
To campaign forever ‘till this plague is o’er
And slaughter as Nazis is found here no more?

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photo by Gabriella Fabbri at
https://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mtJN2xi/Waiting+a+baby

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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Iran

Iran, are your brains even there?
Did you seize two ships on a dare?
We’d blow you away
Like wind blows the spray
Except that behind’s you a bear.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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preg woman and child

The sky above is virgin blue;
The breeze has summer’s breath.
The course of Nature’s staying true:
First life, then later, death. 

The children run and laugh and play;
Their adults stand and look,
A little back to miss the spray
The water fountains brook. 

And in their lot’s a sacrifice
That some for others make
Instead of selfishness like ice
Upon a frozen lake. 

The care, concern, is Nature’s course
And not the centeredness
When some because their hearts are coarse
For little lives care less.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

 

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flag

Some are offended by this line from the third stanza:
No refuge can save the hireling and slave.

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Slaves mentioned
And you’re offended?
YOU’RE in chains.

— 

You’re enslaved
To a past that was
Never yours.

— 

Your burden
Is the past you drag
With each thought.

— 

It’s past time.
No one can free you
But yourself.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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election 2020

You say you don’t like any candidate? –
Bemoan the nation and bewail its fate?
Then look no further than our blackened soul,
For snow’s not found in all the caves of coal.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

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Boston_Tea_Party_w

Shed tears for Boston and the troubled tea,
That toast in harbor’s glass to tyranny.
The glass, when raised, was flung into the face
Of one enthroned across an ocean’s space. 

Shed tears for Boston and the colonies
Who felt the anaconda’ deadly squeeze,
The air of life pressed from their breasts and backs
By an oppressive rule and heavy tax. 

Shed tears for Boston who’s been newly led
By liberals by whom their blood was bled –
A brainless Barney Frank’s economy
And “want more government” Ted Kennedy.

Shed tears for Boston now, that once was free,
But slid back to a royal tyranny.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

 

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2dzzxWE


There was an uproar many years ago
O’er Florida, about a suicide.
For days, e’en weeks, the news did overflow,
And was the focus, like all weddings – bride. 

The death of one poor soul is tragic, sure,
But this did all the nation fascinate.
We wondered: how much more can we endure –
The days, the hordes sent to investigate. 

We stirred into a swarm of frenzied bees;
It split us into halves – some mad, rest glad,
And etched a phrase into our memories
Of one who died, and how – the hanging Chad.

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Photo is by Steve Woods at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dzzxWE/Vote

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

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donkey

When you listen to crying and Murdercrat fears,
And media lying through crocodile tears,
You’ll miss the big news
They try to defuse:
The nation is better than it’s been in years.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

 

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stop abortion now


That party should ever lie fallow;
Let’s bury them deep and not shallow.
Deserving, it dies
For murder it plies.
And may we its grave never hallow.

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Voting for Murdercrats makes one an accessory to the 2500
abortion murders that occur in this nation each day.

https://www.minenotthenine.com/2017/03/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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