It seems there are money powered people stopping the right thing happening. Peters is the reason.
MAKE HIM RESIGN.
Jac please resign yourself. I try to bring some liveliness to our sad task of viewing and analysing politics but it isn’t to start a trend or a competition. Have you anything worthwhile and practical to say at the end of the day!
Pluck a petal
And soured settle
Then punch that in the guts
Winston Peters is your Sadist
On the fast tack to corruption.
Squeezing lemons for All Us Moderates, on their crawling knees — so, not so fast, and definnot clever
Those foisted fruits are only ground-fall, fit to bleach the pavement
where others sit, much easier — as is the Way of Winners,
selling choisest lemonabler
Endangered parasitic stink Orchid “pompous” var “windbag”, grown hydropornically in bullshit and worm pee.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Oops. No it’s just and arsehole.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
A fishing fleet stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of the bay:
Ten thousand saw I at once,
Netting by-catch without a glance
Not by one camera at-all
Because he had removed them all.
The waves splashed beside them as they died; but hey
An unknowing public could not express dismay,
a politician bought by fishing company:
I gazed—and gazed—and had a thought
What wealth had he been bought?:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon ny inner eye
Which is the curse of solitude;
And then my heart with horror fills,
And wilts liking dying daffodils.
Superb Pat.
Horror filled heart is bully Hart attack cruel
So put it in the past
Poem for art trumps cooked fat bellies
And wilted daffodils, snapped and tidied and tied
do you do that with yours, like I do with mine?
Jumping not pivoting
Bullies scent is on for fun and off the game
This is neo-flower-power and the stubborn mule must resign
It seems there are money powered people stopping the right thing happening. Peters is the reason.
MAKE HIM RESIGN.
Jac please resign yourself. I try to bring some liveliness to our sad task of viewing and analysing politics but it isn’t to start a trend or a competition. Have you anything worthwhile and practical to say at the end of the day!
Pluck a petal
And soured settle
Then punch that in the guts
Winston Peters is your Sadist
On the fast tack to corruption.
Squeezing lemons for All Us Moderates, on their crawling knees — so, not so fast, and definnot clever
Those foisted fruits are only ground-fall, fit to bleach the pavement
where others sit, much easier — as is the Way of Winners,
selling choisest lemonabler
Endangered parasitic stink Orchid “pompous” var “windbag”, grown hydropornically in bullshit and worm pee.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Oops. No it’s just and arsehole.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
A fishing fleet stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of the bay:
Ten thousand saw I at once,
Netting by-catch without a glance
Not by one camera at-all
Because he had removed them all.
The waves splashed beside them as they died; but hey
An unknowing public could not express dismay,
a politician bought by fishing company:
I gazed—and gazed—and had a thought
What wealth had he been bought?:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon ny inner eye
Which is the curse of solitude;
And then my heart with horror fills,
And wilts liking dying daffodils.
Superb Pat.
Horror filled heart is bully Hart attack cruel
So put it in the past
Poem for art trumps cooked fat bellies
And wilted daffodils, snapped and tidied and tied
do you do that with yours, like I do with mine?
Jumping not pivoting
Bullies scent is on for fun and off the game
This is neo-flower-power and the stubborn mule must resign
Comments are closed.