Kashmir Delirium

Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we,
For each act of benevolence shown to us.
Your gilded sweet words describing,
The beauty of Kasmir, land and people.

Mention in books and talks of it's riches,
Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth.
The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir,
Treasure of resources in every sphere.

To elevate each aspect, our wish for life,
As every acre of this land is worth millions.
Full of treasures and recreational value,
Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers.

The outside world's view is so limited,
Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty.
Mentioned in world forums and organizations,
But what of the goal of giving us freedom?

What has The UN established in our name?
To measure the pain and anguish we bear,
At the hands, of our supposed benefactors.
The saviours who has us fractured.

But in reality they train their enforcers,
In the art of creating oceans of tears.
The red blood now hidden in camouflage,
The spent shells now gathered and hidden.

The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams,
Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists.
Joint conferences to address personal interests
Dialogues that never address the root issues.

Just the formalities and no sympathy,
For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals.
The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated,
More augmentation of the security forces.

For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy,
Walk this land, you know as beautiful.
Religious leaders will teach you  political artistry,
Sermons full of ambiguity and guile.

Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display,
Political apologists give great lessons.
Religion and religious ethnicity are tools,
That keep minds and bodies in total check.

Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb,
As promises are forgotten once office is obtained.
When writing of this succulent beautiful land,
Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices.

This land is being stripped of worldly treasures,
And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily.
The best of nation is the inhabitants,
Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.

TW: r#pe culture

anxiety-riddled,
my head is a constant battle of sounds
and feelings crashing
like waves into each other;
interference scares me.
as does being out of rhythm,
missing too many beats — i am
conflict-averse but i am also
realistic:

i know that
sound travels faster
through solids and liquids
than through the air,
can be distorted
and interfered
into oblivion—
that when
push comes to shove,
whisper networks
can only reach so far.

scores of screaming matches
between metoo advocates and r#pist apologists
crescendos of nails
scraped across a board
feel a bit too familiar
like listening to white noise and broken records on repeat
while scrolling through toiletpaperworthy nonapologies
witnessing victims collectively crying in an orchestra of agony
and then be blamed for attention-seeking at best,
of causing their own suffering at worst.

although it pains me to listen to these tragic tunes,
it is amusing how so many mishear this collective choir as
survivors celebrating with silly receipts in cancel parties
serving blistering hot tea sweetened by revenge - no

all this is anything but
cathartic.

it’s to make people aware
that the same melodies are sung or screamed
  by those who suffered similar pains
and so that those of a similar frequency know
there are those who listen
that their voice matters
and we are not alone.

- 20210315

By: Cedric McClester

Now the acolytes and apologists
Will no doubt come out and insist
That the mayor of Baltimore wasn’t remiss
I guess you could say ignorance is bliss
But the question remains who was in charge
When the mayor was absent by and large
And the duty of the office wasn’t discharged
While she was busy having her ego massaged

Acolytes and apologists
Have convenient answers for all of this
But those answers only make us ******
When we look back and reminisce
Although it may be an ominous sign
Dereliction of duty comes to mind
Or perhaps it was just blind leading the blind
But it shouldn’t have happened any time

Acolytes and apologist
Have ways of glossing over all of this
Try though we may to get their gist
They make us want to ball our fist
Who’s gonna help build the city back up
When the anger subsides the people are stuck
Because a callous few didn’t give a ****
Acolytes and apologist pass the buck

Acolytes and apologist
Are everywhere explaining this
But the salient fact they must have missed
Is the blame should be placed squarely on sis
What recourse do we have when our leaders fail
When looters and rioters don’t go to jail
Who should we look to, to assail
If not the mayor who's gone stale


© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

Starving his people so that they eat off dumpsters is not enough;

Causing more than 3,000,000 of the best and brightest to emigrate is not enough;

An annual inflation rate of 60,324% today (source: Forbes) is not enough;

Rejecting at gun point foreign food and medicine to aid the sick and starving at the borders is not enough;

Trampling on the Constitution and establishing a dictatorship is not enough;

Billions of dollars stolen from the Venezuelan people by cronies is not enough;

Destroying hope, progress, and a leading world economy is not enough;

Today government thugs are literally running over protesters in armored vehicles.

A small group of rabid-left apologists in the U.S. telling us to ignore the man behind the curtain in an insane attempt to defend the indefensible must face reality.

Maduro must go.

His Marxist dystopia must be dismantled.

The Venezuelan people must regain the right of self determination through free and fair elections--not the sham elections all Communist nations use to show close to 100% approval of the ruling tyrant.

Enough is enough!

I am exhausted by the endless pontification from
Professional apologists for every form of
Bad behavior from the protected class of the day.

I am tired of hearing from people for whom
Race / *** / color / creed / disability / ****** orientation
Is a hammer and the whole world is a nail.

I am weary of politicians passing laws
They neither read nor understand
And of the media that gives them cover.

I am fatigued by the endless lecturing from talking heads
About the need to strictly adhere to political correctness
And their attempts to quash speech and rewrite history.

I am haggard from having to deflect the constant, blatant,
Insidious efforts at indoctrination from the self-appointed
Thought police peddling propaganda masquerading as news.

I am burned out from the galloping gall,
Of apologists portraying criminals as victims,
While ignoring the harm done to their actual victims.

I am tuckered out by the double standard,
Of some racists who hide behind a perpetual cry of racism,
As the only acceptable answer to every difficult question.

I am petered out by having to listen,
To the mad ravings of newly arrived Representatives,
Barely out of diapers proposing ideas from The Twilight Zone.

I am drained by the injustice of heroes attacked as monsters,
Monsters treated as heroes and proudly worn on T-shirts,
And those who stand for nothing but take a knee for the National Anthem.

I am sapped by traitors who marry terrorists,
Name their children after other terrorist warlords,
Then demand the right to to come home to the country they betrayed.

I am worn out by life in a world ruled by madness that expects me to
Nod, pump my fist in the air and march in lockstep to an imposed
Drumbeat while ignoring the man behind the curtain orchestrating the show.

I am a French horn, a bottle neckless hourglass and butterscotch tape

You're a red harp with veins painted on the side

When I come home, you see me as an acrylic heap with chips of lead and belly aching homing words

Scotch sticks and smoke smells and the stitches are uncomfortable on my neck where you often warm your hands

I am a masquerade of shellfish clamoring on about the epitome of burlesque humor

You’re alien to anything other than sourdough and design

I have structured my thesis around burlesque and you fail to see the humor

When I fear the apologists

You fear the escapists

I am the tigers of the world, borrowing viciousness

You’re a long pause, loved and disquieted, painting my stripes as veins

I’m freaked out now because the apologists are escaping and the escapists are apologizing

At this clear impasse, you pity and press on until my fingers at the French horn drain to my sides

I am an island in a puddle of sand

Well that was last week
& this is now
& yes …
it actually is
to him
This President of the United States
who has just endorsed
an accused
child-molestor …
…
THE PRESIDENT OF THESE HERE
UNITED STATES
HAS ENDORSED
AN ACCUSED
*******!
…
“He denied it”
says Trump,
of Roy Moore
this man who has 8,
yes …
8 women accusers …
together with witnesses
from the time,
& corroborative evidence
from the time,
& tears …
from the time,
& fear …
from the time,
…
& if there’s special
place in hell
let it house
Trump
& Moore
& Moore’s enablers
& Republican justifiers
& equivocating TV hosts
& the Evangelical apologists
…
& as for Trump
& as for Moore …
the moral bankruptcy here
leads me to simply say
in anger, disgust & horror …
may the dark pitiless depths
of a sulfurous burning pit
be their’s for eternity,
…
or close to.

Now I’m not usually into politics
But our nation's not a firm apologists of its actions
And it’s making me quite frustrated
Seeing homeless veterans on the street
Isn’t being this small minded just a little bit outdated?
The America that we’re living in has me completely surprised
Has no one in this country ever opened their eyes?
Because our skin tone still defines us
Yeah thats without a doubt
As if the darker your skin gets the less respect your given
Is that what you want America to be about?
Immigrants are given no trust
And now our  president wants to put a wall around us
I think that’s enough
Don’t you?
They say we’re in troubled paradise but all I see is trouble
Cause the number of suicides from last year to now has nearly doubled
And not to mention
That there have been just about 22 school shootings in just this past year
Ever wonder why our country is trembling in fear
Well here’s why
Because our school dress code matters more than our gun laws
Here's why
Because our skin tone determines our value and our worth
Here’s why
Because Gay marriage was only legal just a few years ago
Here’s why
Because poverty is spreading quicker than ever
Here’s why
Because now women get harrassed on the street
Here’s why
Because some people feeling like dying everyday and the only help they’re  given is prescribed medication
Here’s why
Because women are still paid less than men
Now I suggest you go ahead and look outside
And don’t try to hide away from it all
Don’t ignore the homeless man that is dying on the street
Don’t ignore the black woman being sexually assaulted on that corner
Don’t ignore the that gay couple being rejected from their church
Don’t ignore that little girl who has to measure her shorts for school
And we are told that young or old freedom will unfold
But If that’s so
Then why has nothing changed in the past century?
And now let me ask you
Did we make America great again?

There’s 2 regular Trump apologists
out in the chattering classes these dark
depressing days Paris Dennard & the lighter
skinned & white-quiffed Jeffrey Lord, both are
utterly intolerable to spend too much time with
both accepting no, quite literally no wrong-doing,
on the part of their sweet master Trump,

Paris has his gig I guess as the black guy
brought on to be the black Republican who
will defend Trump so the folks back home
can say: “See” …
& he is a smartly dressed dude, plays it well
I guess but jeez your boss isn’t infallible Paris,

& Jeffrey lord, oh god Jeffrey Lord …
where to start, well he’s usually bringing in
comparisons & history points from early
20th century speeches & such, while
actually ignoring the real issue & so he’s
good at what he does I’ll give him that,

I heard that he wrote a column praising Trump
early in the election & Trump called him to wax
magnificent & boy was Jeffrey chuffed & all
& thus has been so dedicated & loyal,

& since then he’s pretzeled himself so far
over to kiss his own heels & ends up the
lone Trump voice in every single discussion,
& nothing, absolutely nothing is questioned
or fault acknowledged.

Its a tough job but someone’s got to do it I
guess, but god these folks disgust.

You may all think Matthew is perhaps up all
night reading Das Capital for fun
& spending odd days in his chair
pondering class relations in
late 21st century Capitalism,

or just plain transfixed by newsreels,
earnest learned scholars,
smiling breezy interviewers,
fooled or entertained
by an opinion about
this, a diversion about
that,

& that Matthew sits hunched
over a computer screen
fuming at life's repugnancies,
odious & loathsome actors
in the Politics Game,
desperately berating liars,
despising sycophants, cursing
till the end of days the evil-doers,
ill-wishers, & apologists,

that Matthew in pure Bolshevik-
style takes no prisoners, accepts
no quarter, tidies up after the revolution
by filling shallow graves with the still
warm corpses of the enemies of the people,

well, actually you'd be on the right track
in some ways to be perfectly honest
but still ...

Matthew loves a good soccer game, caramel
ice cream, bananas, bacon sandwiches,
watching pelicans at the lake,
children playing,
old folks chilling ...

he's not really some kind of Iron Man of the
People all Medalled with the Order of
Proletariat First Class ...
fanatic, without humor, obsessed,
despairing & fuming & just plain
at his wits end,

he actually has faith & can take a step
back & curse the fool while enjoying
the wind upon his face,

Matthew loves the play but hates the
lead actors & in the Old English
tradition shouts out from the stalls
"Look out behind you!" as he takes
a lick from his sweet vanilla cornet.

expectant pike laughs
oafishly, snowdrift bragging
apologists eat

There is no grace with these decayed churches, only hate and ignorance in these pews

You wail of love and understanding, oh how wretched you can truly be

You'll burn the ground you stand on, and burn your own flesh, just so your ignorance is protected

The faith you hold is a very ****** thing, it's poison to the innocent that you say you love

The few who do not wish to partake these actions, who say it is not all of their congregation

It does not change the ignorance, if it bothers your soul as so, you are the few who must have the want to change it

Being apologists does not excuse you, you stand idly by while the other wolves cause suicide and self hatred

Oh how the church is a joyful thing, joy for their own greed and hatred, believing they will get to heaven

How very strange, and yet sad

She was angry
But now she is resigned
Like an ocean with remaining shells and sounds
He was in the mud,the swine
He threw some on her
Thinking that she will get *****
But the dirtiness was always in his mind
Everyone told her he might have ugliness beneath his beauty
But she thought maybe there was some tenderness hidden behind hard lines
Or That it might be the exception
Or maybe she just got lured
Shiny things attract us
And don't we go bumping in them all the time
But you can't tame a beast,MAN
It will bite you the moment it gets a chance
It will show you its ugliness
Much deeper than the ***** mud on the skin
An incurable....disease of the mind
And make you believe that ...maybe maybe it's just how he is
Or maybe its you....bringing out the beast in him
But let's be honest
Most of the time he is a calculated,conniving,cold hearted monster planning his sinister deeds,well in advance
He requires no apologists
Because All he is ....
is a heartless cold blooded Swine

You ever notice how some of these "feminist" male apologists are more condescending in their apologies, than the men they are apologizing for?

By: Cedric McClester

Now that the tea’s been spilt
It’s conscientiousness of guilt
Like a game machine you tilt
His image can’t be rebuilt
Although his many apologists
Will no doubt still insist
While balling up their fists
Simply, he must resist

Now that the tea’s been spilt
We see a patchwork quilt
The knife’s in to the hilt
In time we’ll watch him wilt
By now we all should know
The rules of quid-pro-quo
His nose is bound to grow
Remember who told you so

Now that the tea’s been spilt
We see him walking on a stilt
So we know what’s under his kilt
And he isn’t that well built
So let me take time to expand
By asking what manner of man?
He’s used to having the upper hand
But they’ll impeach him on demand

Now that the tea’s been spilt
And everything’s atilt
His voice has a weary lilt
Who else must he try to jilt?
All his sycophants
Must be peeing in their pants
As he carries on and rants
They may not get a second chance





           Cedric McClester, copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.

By: Cedric McClester

They’re like a colony of ants
Those feckless sycophants
Who do the Trumpian dance
While afraid to take a chance
That he might be displeased
So they stay on their knees
And refuse to eat the cheese
They just shoot the breeze

They sell their integrity
For an audience of one, ya see
Pleasing him for them is key
To the future they hope will be
People like Michael Pence
Who never had much sense
Or the Secretary of state we know
That coward Pompeo

And then there’s Wilbur Ross
Who’s servile to the boss
Also Steven Minuchin
Whose head is so far in
The President’s great big ***
See, he volunteered for the task
And while we’re at it, let’s unmask
Betsy De Voss and her *******

Then there’s the rest of his coterie
Of apologists we regularly see
Like that Kelly-Ann Conway chick
Who lays it on real thick
Then there’s that housing guy we see
Who should have stuck with brain surgery
What’s the point in saying more?
About Donald Trump's revolving door!


       Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.

By: Cedric McClester

Whites have always had
Their black apologists
And South Carolina’s Tim Scott
Fits nicely into this
He’s a prime example of why
They say ignorance is bliss
If he truly believes
That America is not racist

He sites a few examples of
Him being stopped
By white police officers
That was over the top
But this notwithstanding
His world wasn’t rocked
He was quite accepting
And so he wasn’t shocked

He’d do anything to stay
Inside his master’s house
Where he could eat crumbs
Off the table and not even grouse
In fact he’d stay as quiet as
A  proverbial church mouse
Articulating the master’s virtues
That he’s so quick to espouse

He has no qualms at all
About being used
He stands six feet tall
But he must be confused
And if this notion is one
That he would disabuse
I wouldn’t be surprised at al
I’d simply be amused


Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2021.  All rights reserved.

This feud among Abraham's sons
Has the goyim all loading their guns
To defend godless Zionists.
Prudent apologists
Will not take sides--anyone's.

Ashkenazis are claiming the land
To promote a new Globalist brand.
Though their zeal is Davidic,
An antisemitic
Reaction may soon be at hand.

Unprovoked is the term that you use
To disparage alternative views.
You oppressed them for years.
Now the worst of your fears
Has exploded the Middle East news.

When the terrorist thugs take control,
It's a challenge to see that their role
Is divine retribution;
Such ****** confusion
Should cause you concern for your soul.