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Posts Tagged ‘abortion’

aborted baby

(thoughts of the one who supports abortion murder)

None else should on another body bind.
Don’t take from women their nice right to choose.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

It’s not for me. But with them I’m aligned.
It is her body save for that she’ll bruise.
None else should on another body bind.

A woman’s life should not be so confined
That what she wants for self she then would lose.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

My sense of right and wrong is not assigned
To those bent on assigning death’s dark hues.
None else should on another body bind.

Her life, if not, would be a horrid grind.
So rip and tear the little baby shoes.
I have a noble mind and think that kind.

To all except the woman, I am blind
To think of other lives would just confuse.
None else should on another body bind.
I have a noble mind and think I’m kind.

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

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nYAxIQi


The Murdercrats (abortion) say:

The Donald’s a racist and halfwit.
We’ll squash him! Remove him! That foul zit!
But we are a voice
For women – pro-choice.
For we don’t mind murder e’en one bit.

His mouth has more lies than it has spit;
Besides, what we’re for, he’s against it.
While he stands for life,
We’ll give them the knife
For we don’t mind murder e’en one bit.

From outrage that’s moral, our big fit
Is thrown at the worst and Trump is it!,
   While firmly we’ve stood
With Planned Murderhood
For we don’t mind murder e’en one bit.

We’re Murdercrats and we’re proud of it.
The fires of Moloch we will keep lit.
Pro-murder is nice
And we’ll sacrifice
For we don’t mind murder e’en one bit.

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photo by Dez Pain at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nYAxIQi/Blood+Stains+1

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

 

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pregnant silhouette

Herr Hitler led the Nazis
To kill six million Jews.
Ukraine was starved by Stalin;
The Times left out that news. 

And Mao? Forty million.
And Leopold just ten.
And Tojo’s tiny numbers
Of five are really thin. 

Gas chambers and the Gulag,
The farms raped of their yields,
Were killing rooms for devils
Like Pol Pot’s killing fields. 

More than did all the monsters
Kill in their bloody quests
Have we in America
Killed while still in their nests. 

Our count? Now sixty million.
And what’s our killing room?
We kill them in their nurs’ry:
We kill them in the womb.

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

 

 

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mwYHMGi

Abortion count’s heard in abstraction,
And numbers are little distraction.
We go on our way,
And whistle all day.
In silence, we’ve found satisfaction.

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In the United States, 2500 human beings
are murdered by abortion every day and
most people don’t care.

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photo by paparabbit (Palmer) at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mwYHMGi/LOOK+LEFT

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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oosHgt2

(A liberal group is collecting money for Hurricane Harvey
victims to have abortions.)

 

Those thinking they’re wise are but fools,
And worse than mere killers – they’re ghouls.
In wake of the storm,
Intent on more harm,
For abortions they’d furnish the tools.

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photo by Elvis Santana at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oosHgt2/clouds+1

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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donkey

They’d save the world; make sure the unborn die;
Of sin they laugh, of righteousness they cry.
They crucified Petraeus for his sin,
And let another Clinton go again.
They’d mock a Bush or Quayle where’er they slipped,
But Biden for the prez is well-equipped.
They’d take much from the rich; give to the poor
And middle class must the same thing endure.
For their hypocrisy there is no cure.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

 

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mgynpso


Nakusa is Hindi for “unwanted”, a name given to
many unwanted girls in India.  See the article link
below the poem.

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In ancient Rome, the babies were exposed
To all the elements and left to die
When their existence was by men opposed
And hardened hearts heard not their tiny cry.

Today, we wear smooth silk, don sweet perfume,
Refined in all we do, quite civilized.
Expose them? No! They have another doom:
We cut their spinal cords – murder reprised.

In name or deed, we say, “Unwanted child!”
Our self, not you, is what is highly prized.
The old and new have hearts by hate defiled.
But we’re far better – we are civilized!

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The unwanted girls of India change their names:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/44998378/ns/world_news-wonderful_world/?gt1=43001

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photo by sanja gjenero at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mgynPSO/garbage+bin+3

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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The Glossy Ibis

A body
Plus noodles for their
Beaks, necks, legs.

 

Give And Take

Bulldozer.
Making tracks. Waves, wind –
Erasers.

 


For Murder

supreme court?
No. Nine will be tried
Before God.

——————–

 

Ibis – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nIvebnm/glossy+ibises2

Give – photo by Javier Gonzalez at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mpvrd9a/Sand+tracks+1

Murder – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/okHzGps/solid+justice

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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 Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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You carry Sodom’s purse; you hold Gomorrah’s hand.
You say your prayers to God and court the idols of the land.
You’re double-minded like old evil Israel
And God destroyed the wicked with a Babylonian hell.
You are for women’s rights, but murder’s always wrong.
Abortion takes a human’s life; the weak killed by the strong.
Your demon lies are legion but your hardened hearts are seared;
No change, you double-down the daily slant you’ve engineered.
Our national debt is such that we can never pay –
Your spending and your promises have ruined us in that way.
You train as slaves the poor in barrio and slum
To lean and laze on government, addicted, always dumb.
Your tips are served with fear, your hands upon their throat.
Then, harlots in their misery, they spread their legs and vote,
While you, the pimp, moan o’er their pain as if you care,
When all you want is scepter, throne, and jeweled crown to wear.
You’re blind from power’s thirst so that you cannot see
That you rule from Titanic’s decks as she sinks rapidly.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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The safest place on earth should be the womb,
Wrapped by maternal love instilled by God above.
But love of self makes it a killing room.

It’s woman’s greatest glory and her plume
That God made her the one, to bear a daughter, son.
The safest place on earth should be the womb.

A child is weaved in her; she is the loom.
Conception’s grand event – new human’s great advent.
But love of self makes it a killing room.

A tiny bud is just a folded bloom
Woe to the gardener who snips – the murderer!
The safest place on earth should be the womb.

Too oft, the wicked rides upon her broom
And sweeps away the child that has her life defiled,
And love of self makes it a killing room.

There is no right to bring another doom.
The murder’s always wrong, e’en when it’s sung as song.
The safest place on earth should be the womb,
But love of self makes it a killing room.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

 

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