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Yousra Amatullah Jun 2021
Ik regen,
Noem mij intens,
Wolken zijn om te breken,
Vruchtbaar is het land waarvan ik oogst.

Zonnestralen verlichten plaats en tijd,
Kleuren komen tot leven,
Ik reflecteer.

Noem mij bij wet,
Als jij leest en begrijpt,
Mijn naam is een gegeven begrip,
Voor het leven dat zich in regenbogen manifesteert.
want my fyn porselein is nou skerwe op die vloer
als wat goed is in die lewe;
saam met die suur melk uitgemoer
al my heuningtee en moerkoffie staan nietig in my kas
, ek hunker na n glasie brandewyn
om die herrinneringe mee weg te was.

Want Vader al val 'n duisend aan my sy
en tien duisend hier langs my
vlieg Eros se pyle net die heeltyd verby.
Ek is moeg vir alleen wees
moeg vir bang wees
vir koue voete
koue hande en
'n hart wat altyd koud sal wees.

waars die liefde en genade
waarvan ons in ******
en die Bybel lees.

Waars my stukkie hemel.
Waars my engelkoor.
Is dit ook tussen my suur melk...
of het ek dit deur bottervingers verloor?
Vylette May 2014
I had a dream, but more than that, her skin was red. Her heart made me bleed.
I was a sailor, knocked over by the waves. Fallen off the boat, and drowned in the sea
When you see me now, you know what you feel. The loss of despair becomes real.
Slipping back into the womb of comfort for sake of ease
On the things that just don’t make sense
Dit was daar
Ń knal in die nag
Skerper as die dop-klank
Van dinamiet in dolomiet
En gevaarliker as klapperskiet;
Die knal in die nag...

"Dit was daar op stemdag "
, sê ek.
Dit was... ekt gehoor!
Skiet ek my siel uit
Teen die leë gehoor

"Dankie my bokkie"
,Met x'e gekys
Help nie my hart nie
X'e is ook maar ń tipe kruis
Ñ tipe graf in afwag
Ń tipe nood, ń stille dood.

Dan tref die waarheid my hard
Soos ń gewyde plathand
Van ń skietman of ń doodsman
Dis jou land , dis díe land
Hoekom nou skielik bang?

Ekt dit gehoor, ekt dit gehoor
Ek sweer op die graf
Van die gesneuwelde stem.
Maar nou kom noem-
Moet ek erken...

Ek vrees die geweerskoot
Meer as die galg
Wat stil is soos slange
Wat my wurg en my walg.
Ek is banger vir die knal
Wat die hele buurt vang
As die halfpad val
En heeltyd hang
Soos kleintyd speeltyd
Van rodswaai en my lyfie
Aan toue op hang.

Wats ñ geweerskoot nou
Teen die monsters van binne
Wat klou om te hou.

Raak rustig , haal asem
, toe nou bedaar.
Jy weet mos jou denke
Was maar nog altyd
Jou grootste gevaar.

- wanneer geweerskote in
kopskote verander...
Raak die wêreld donker
Daan Jan 2017
Reeds de derde achter de rug
nog een vierde, doe maar vlug.
Alsof de tijd is opgeschoven,
teruggeschoven
en wederkeerde naar dezelfde momenten.

Waarom blijft een dier zich inprenten
als een beest, zuiders wild,
zelfs al heeft het nooit gemogen,
zelfs al is het nooit gewild,
radeloos maar opgetogen.

Doelen worden pas plezier
als ze bereikt worden.
Nadat we enkele maanden
heen en weer porden
en ons verliefd of verlangend waanden
keerden we terug naar de eigenlijke staat.

Elk van ons is en blijft niets meer,
keert weder, elke keer,
naar een staat in de natuur,
met meerdere deuren op een kier,
noem het zielig, noem het zuur,
we blijven niets meer dan een dier.
Zelfkennis is het begin
en er komt geen einde aan.
Dus wees eerlijk,
geliefd en verlangd.
spatio brevi spem longam reseces
Siska Gregory Dec 2016
Daar is n lieflike gevoel in die wind.
n Gevoel wat bind, n gevoel wat sink, sink diep in n mens se hart in.
Hy praat met n mens soos n boek, n bladsy wat vertel van die Goddelike wind...
So gaan die pad voor mens oop en raak gou vol hoop van goeie dinge wat voorle.
En so verlang mens dan na iemand, iemand ver, ver weg en seg in jou hart:
“Die lewe is soos die wind, die Goddelike wind wat verbind van een hart na n ander”.
Want die waai deur mens se hare, die gevoel van koel, maar warm teen mens se wange en die verwaai van gras op plaas paaie is wat ek noem die Goddelike wind, wat bind… van een hart na n ander. 2016/01/21
Inspired by my dear mother...you are the best
Elymaïs Oct 2020
Daar's 'n plek in ons siele,
War die seer nie kan inkom nie.
Maar waar is hierdie punt,
Waar lê dit binne ons?
In die diepte van ons harte,
Agter die mure wat ons bou,
Kan ons kyk tussen die krake,
En vind 'n Sleutelsteen
Wat ons heel hou?

'n Klein onbreekbare IETS
Waarin ons vergete hoop nog slaap?
'n Picture van wat ons is
Voor die ligte uitgaan

Maar wat sou ons dit noem,
As ons dit selfs kon vind?
Sou ons dit selfs kon herken,
As dit ons in die oë sou staar
En sê: „Ek bestaan“?
Sou ons daarna kon luister,
As ons dit selfs kon **** —
As ons selfs kon onthou
*** om sy taal te praat?

'n Klein onbreekbare IETS
Waarin ons vergete hoop nog slaap
'n Picture van wat ons is
Voor die ligte uitgaan

Daar's 'n plek in ons siele,
Waar die seer kan nie inkom nie.
"There is a part of us that cannot be hurt." — Dan Copes
Francie Lynch May 2024
Who waters dead plants?
Me.
Who pumps air into tires with holes?
Me.
Who spits into the wind?
Me.
Who swims against the current?
Me.
Who presses the walk button at intersections?
Me.
Who clicks BBQ tongs to make sure they work?
Me.
Who hits the save button more than once?
Me.
Who kills puppies?
Kristi Noem.
Lawrence Hall Apr 2024
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]

The Governor of South Dakota Takes a Shot at the Vice-Presidency

Who is South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem? Dog controversy, more to know (usatoday.com)

Blazing a trail of death and ****** fur
She shot her dog, her goat, three horses too
Somehow they failed her, and so, we must concur  
She executed them in a ****** coup

When her family's animals disappoint her
She shoots them; she feels that’s her duty to do
Silencing each substandard bark, bleat, and purr -
Now what if she becomes disappointed in
                                                        
       ­                                         you?
Daan May 2019
Het stuit me tegen de borst
dat voeden in het openbaar
met luid en regen bloeddorst-
ig wordt onthaald als raar.

Voor mezelf hoeft niets per se,
'k hou gewoon liefst iedereen tevree
al weet ik dat dat eigenlijk niet kan.
Noem me maar naïef of halve man.

Ik probeer te kiezen wat ik mij laat deren,
me slechts inwendig af te weren.
Ik ben hier om bij te leren, als zovelen,
niet om appels of muilperen
uit te delen.
All the while acting as if the screams of ***** children were nothing but more "liberal noise" and "fake news," even as he compared Stormy to his daughter before sadly flopping around like the taco manatee he is.
He wasn’t just buddies with Epstein. He partied full-on eighties; piles of coke and champagne enemas with him. He lusted and wallowed literally in piles of scammed cancer patient and dying veterans' cash with him, and dismissed every underaged trafficked survivor. It doesn’t just read like a rap sheet. It reads like the collapse of accountability itself. Supreme Court sanctioned.

When you lay it out, when you really stack the bodies, the broken laws, the shattered norms, and the battered dignity of what little democracy we had — even Kristi Noem starts to look like a hollow-eyed lost uneducated voting farm mom with very poor taste, compared to this orange taco who set the whole house on fire and called it patriotism.

The magnitude is undeniable:

He didn’t just incite a riot. He summoned a lynch mob in Jesus cosplay, armed with bear spray, flagpoles, pipe bombs, zip ties, and impromptu gallows, chanting to hang his own boot-licking, robot, boy scout, carved out of driftwood, sad excuse for a committee-he-wasn’t-even-there-for Vice President.

He didn’t just steal top secret documents and billion dollar secrets people died to protect. He bragged about it. It’s all on tape. Listen to what he promised to donors, to foreign adversaries, to the highest bidders, like a doped-up power-drunk mafia Don showing off his stolen American trophies — souvenirs from the nuclear football.

He didn’t just commit fraud. He built a branding empire on defrauding hard-working Americans, from that fake university he created to a charity that stole money from veterans and dying children with cancer.

He wasn’t just buddies with Epstein. Underage girls screamed and pleaded to not have to be next. All lost into the void of wealth and power. Literally trapped on an island. At least Epstein did the right thing.

He wasn’t just found guilty of defamation twice. He was found to have sexually abused E. Jean Carroll, and then lied about it so cruelly and so often the courtroom flinched. Jurors literally vomited.

He wasn’t just impeached twice. He was never even held accountable because too many senators were too afraid of losing Facebook likes from suburban militias.

He didn’t just fail upward. He left claw marks on democracy as he rose from bankrupt casinos and rotting steaks.

Let’s not forget:

He defrauded us, the broke-*** taxpayers, for hundreds of millions while we post fake photoshopped Facebook pics of our imaginary lives in which we pretend we aren’t just serfs and slaves to the dollar.

He bilked donors with fake matching fund scams.

He grifted off a deadly pandemic.

He sold hats and gold-plated Bibles while bodies literally piled up in every third-world country. Stack upon rotting stack of them.

He called fallen soldiers like people I served with “suckers and losers.” "What kind of idiot gets caught or becomes MIA?"

Then he ordered us tear-gassed. Us, peaceful protesters. And for what? For a failed photo op with a smoking Chinese-made Bible he’s never even read.

He threatened journalists, judges, and witnesses by name, their kids and families.

He tried to extort Ukraine for political dirt and is now trying to give it to his hero Putin.

He pardoned war criminals — literal rapists and alleged cannibals.

He turned the DOJ into his personal vindictive hate-fueled legal team, bent on revenge.

He promised revenge on all political enemies and is working on it.

He plotted to send tanks into American cities to crush people with no trial or due process like his hero ******.

He encouraged people to inject bleach or just drink it.

He said ****** “did some good things.” He said racist killer mobs were “fine people.”

And yes — he fathered Eric, who scares even his fellow coked-out zombie beavers.

He lies to the whole country again and again with no compunction. Not just about an election he undeniably lost while whispering to oath-breaking cowards to “just find 11,780 votes.”

He screamed “fake news” at the sounds of ***** children, compared Stormy Daniels to his daughter, before flopping around like an electrocuted taco manatee, bragging then crying over his gold toilets — the taco manatee of late-night infomercials, Pepsi spots, Pizza Hut and more — the collection plates full for authoritarianism.

He wallowed in cash with billionaires and traffickers, while everyday people chewed on fluoride-free ketchup packet soup made from fast food salt single-serves and apologetic acid rainwater.

He told coal miners he’d bring back jobs, while he deregulated their protections and sold off their futures for an immediate infusion of pennies on the dollar, which he squandered trying to pay off **** stars and *** workers behind his heartless wife’s cold, unloving, robotic back. Guess that's better than having another one pushed down the stairs again.

He killed the lunch programs. Then mailed postcards to the kids' families he helped starve, addressed to the ones already gunned down at school during recess.

He said he’d “drain the swamp,” then drained our global economy with insider trading like Martha Stewart at a Snoop Dogg ****, then baptized himself in the orange glowing filth.

This is the man who turned grievance into a sacrament, white supremacy into a ballot strategy, and cruelty into offshore taxpayer-funded currency scams.

This is the man who made Kristi Noem — at least she only shot a puppy.

Trump didn’t just break laws. He is the rotting carcass of Clarence Thomas Winnebago accountability, draped in a poorly tailored flag and Rudy’s spray-tan runoff.

Please tell your kids why they only get half a doll and half a school day.

Tell your daughter why her broken childhood is a “patriotic sacrifice.”

Tell the bodies in the gravel pits, in Ukraine, the self-aborted **** fetus in the back alley dumpster why we called this “greatness.”

Or maybe just admit:

The poets didn’t ruin America. The Christo-fascists did. And they did it with a smile, a red hat, and a Golden Bible full of blank pages.

The shameless uncaring pandemic grift — there’s more to mine:

His deliberate downplaying of COVID while privately admitting its lethality. He got the best care though when he got it, on the taxpayer’s dime of course.

Mocking masks while people suffocated on inadequate, underfunded ventilators.

Forced unwanted “super-spreader” rallies held with full knowledge of their danger to the obese and elderly that died as a result.

All the while profit-promoting quack cures and undermining professional career scientists, leading to thousands more easily avoidable deaths.

Bodies piled in freezer trucks — he called that a hoax. My uncle wasn’t a hoax. My neighbor, nor my childhood friends. He used their deaths as another twisted campaign strategy.

He held rallies not despite the danger, but because of it, to spread it. Feeding a martyr complex to the uneducated, unfaltering cult faithful. Making the morgue a loyalty test.

His lies weren’t just political. They were epidemiological ****** warfare.

Countless — literally uncounted — children in cages.

Millions spent separating scared, confused children from their parents, some of whom were never reunited even today.

Locking toddlers in cages under foil blankets.

Promoting a system that was losing track of hundreds of children in a Kafkaesque bureaucratic abyss.

He asked for votes over tearing families apart at the border and called it justice.

They caged infants beneath aluminum sheets, trauma-wrapping toddlers while TV pundits shrugged.

Some kids vanished into paperwork and shadows. No names, no faces — just starving, traumatized, nameless ghosts in a broken, heartless system.

Then the constant environmental ****.

Not only the flaming sinks and contaminated rivers, but even more coal deregulation — but there’s more.

Opening sacred tribal lands for drilling.

Gutting the EPA.

Selling off national monuments for extraction deals.

Ignoring climate collapse in exchange for small, meaningless, short-term temporary profits.

He stripped the Earth like it owed him rent.

Pried open sacred tribal burial grounds with corporate drills.

Turned protected lands into sacrifice zones.

Signed deals in boardrooms lit by wildfires, laughing while the oceans burned and washed their dead onto the beaches — wave after poisoned, overheated wave.

He banned trans troops from serving.

Rolled back healthcare protections.

Enabled a wave of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation and violence.

Appointed judges hostile to marriage equality and basic human dignity.

He didn’t whisper hate. He ensured his hate-filled, brainwashed cronies codified it.

He didn’t ignore trans lives. He erased them in pages of senseless policy.

He armed the bigots with hate laws, lit fires beneath pride flags, and gave the pulpit to now-known and convicted Catholic priests and other child-molesting preachers who called consenting adult love a “sickening sinful disease.”

SCOTUS corruption and the theocracy agenda.

Like Anita Hill — we must always name Clarence Thomas brilliantly, and to the broader point:

Amy Coney Barrett was laughably forever seated just days before a critical election.

Stacking our courts with impossible-to-remove, mentally sick, and power-hungry religious extremists.

SCOTUS helped dismantle rights, pretending not to be political while they continue, to this very second, doing the bidding of billionaires and evangelical overlords.

He helped turn robes into vestments, gavels into crucifixes.

Rushed the sick sad **** Barrett through like a sermon before the offering plate. This guy was the class name taker and tattle-tale. No one’s peer or equal   just a sad, sick, revenge-bent **** lusting for pain and power.

Made the highest court a cathedral for plutocrats and prophets, where the Constitution burns beneath the Book of Revelations.

Media control and cult dynamics:

Turning Rupert Murdoch’s ******* named Fox News into a state-sanctioned and fully funded five-times-a-day sports scores and soundbites brownshirt propaganda wing.

Cultivating “alternative facts” through social media disinfo.

Demonizing truth itself to build loyalty through censored movies that don’t even align with or reflect their sad, sick agendas but co-opting them anyway and giving it away to lowest earners that can’t afford cable news and don’t hold library cards but have all the episodes of The Apprentice on VHS.

He is, every day, trying to turn truth into an unpatriotic traitor.

I am a veteran. I fought. I bled. He did what? Get another handy after a massage in a tennis resort in spoiled, pampered New York?

He built a doctrine of lies so thick, people prayed in memes and bled for hashtags over him.

He birthed a cult with red hats and martyrdom complexes, where facts go to die and grievance is a bedazzled grandma tote bag and visored gospel.

January 6 aftermath — not just the riot:

Pledging to pardon entrenched, psychotic, bomb-building, gun-hoarding insurrectionists.

Calling them “hostages.”

Still drunk on the blood spilled that day.

Describing those jailed for violent sedition as “the real patriots. All the rest of you are too lazy or stupid to fall in line with.”

He didn’t just incite a coup. He sold the gaudy merch off it.

He raised money on policemen's spilled blood, called terrorists “tourists,” and promised their perpetual freedom.

He made sedition a subscription plan, and treason a campaign slogan.

Women’s rights and abortion.

Grabbing them right by their *******, for America, to show his daughter how to lead by example.

Overturning Roe v. Wade via the judges they seated. It will lead to real-world deaths of millions of women denied basic health care.

Trigger laws activating across red states, dragging us back centuries.

He didn’t just overturn Roe. He unstitched time.

Dragged women back to back alleys and whispers.

He handed scalpels to zealots in robes, and watched the nation bleed, smiling like a man who thinks pain is purity. And **** and ****** is your fault, because life begins at *******.
Johnny Noiπ Mar 2019
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Johnny Noiπ Mar 2019
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Tell her dolls are for rich kids
who know which bathroom to use
Just make sure my kid gets one last look
at her broken doll before you bury her
beneath the words “America First.”
And remember to tell your neighbor and your Sunday school teacher that  "law, truth, and empathy are liberal weapons to be destroyed."



He’s on TV again.
Cotton candy on his head, all sweaty
as he ******* into the Fox News mic.

Screaming about how
all lesbian Shakespeare is killing Ukrainians,
and perceived Marxist parades must be stopped
regardless of the cost.

Which is eclipsed
by the cost of printer ink alone
for his indictment list.

Parades
like that’s what broke
the back of our family business.

Haitians ate all his pets
except the ones he kept locking out at night
like Eric.

A few of us used to build things.
Now we stack overdue bills
like firewood,
and pray winter doesn’t come
hard and early
like a night with Stormy Daniels.

But it wasn’t the "genius" tariffs, right?
It was that huge avalanche of fentanyl
just pouring in by the second  from Canada like a tsunami.
That whole less than 1%  surely justifies ALL  this.

Not the trade war
we didn’t and , could never survive,
not the refunds that never came  or will
just the drag queens,
book bans,
and some gay frogs
plotting to eat RFK’s brainworms.

Now we chew on sloppy Republican soup
made from fluoride-free water
and stolen restaurant salt packs,
with boiled apology.

We **** in the Denny's stalls
to make America great again
'cause they stopped putting out napkins on the tables,
and restrooms cost 50 cents to use.
That's 48 cents more than we have.

As I drag my exhausted kid by the bone thin arm blood trails
down the sidewalk again
we have nowhere to go and the hypocrite churches won't let us in looking and smelling like this.
But there he is constantly  on T.V.,
still crying onstage,
still selling slave labor made hats
and gold-plated Bibles,
still fuming about “woke” this
and “cancelled” that,
while people like me
can’t afford a hotel room or bread.

But sure.
Tell me again
how the poets ruined the global economy.
Tell my daughter
why her doll rations
were her patriotic sacrifice.

Tell her
this is greatness.

Or just take her out to the ole gravel pit
and give her the Kristi Noem special.

Can I please be next?
Behind him,
a choir of bootlickers
chanting “freedom”
between their unpaid  child support payments and bar tabs.

I can't feed my family
with a “Praise Jesus, AR-15 Free Christmas” postcard,
but thanks for the sentiment...

oh, and you addressed it
to the 10-year-old
that was gunned down
in front of his swingset,
who still couldn't read
while trying to scrounge through the dumpster
after you cut his school lunch program.

Please give me the ole Putin KGB special.
I know you can.
He's your hero, after all , he got you elected twice
you studied his every move.

NRA me, please.
It'd be the most humane thing
any of these sock puppets has yet to do.
Bob B Jun 16
Trump's three stooges--Karoline Leavitt,
Pam Bondi, and Kristi Noem°--
Perform for their almighty leader
And lie until the cows come home.

Listen to them and you will hear
That when the three of them are pressed
To give an answer to journalists' questions,
They'll undoubtedly do their best

To artfully avoid the topic,
And you will hear them bring up the name
Of Joe Biden, their punching bag.
For ALL that's wrong, Biden's to blame.

If they want to keep their jobs,
They have to lie for Trump, of course.
If they told the bitter truth,
Then he'd demand a quick divorce.

Trump and all his admin team
Have been well-trained in hocus pocus.
They have been instructed to always
Deflect, ignore, and shift the focus.

We are watching as day by day
The river of lies continues to widen.
Trump and his team think they'll win points
By telling untruths and screaming "Biden!"

-by Bob A (6-16-25)

°Karoline Leavitt - White House Press Secretary; Pam Bondi - U.S. Attorney General; Kristi Noem - U.S. Secretary of Homeland Security

— The End —