Tag: Poem
Random Riddle: 1-18-2016
| A car painted red, a car painted black. Had an accident, the windshields did crack. Inside the black car a man was found dead. He would be unharmed, the driver of red. Not charged with murder, no crime could they show. The red car’s driver was told be could go. With one dead body, just how could it be. The red car’s driver could walk away free? |
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A Visitor From The Past
A Visitor From The Past is a short film for American patriots based on a poem by Thelen Paulk and directed by Stan Arthur.
The founders of our freedom must be turning in their graves!
Share this with everyone.
A Visitor From The Past: by Thelen Paulk
I had a dream the other night, I didn’t understand.
A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand.
His clothes were torn and dirty, as he stood there by my bed.
He took off his three-cornered hat, and speaking low, he said:
“We fought a revolution, to secure our liberty.
We wrote the Constitution, as a shield from tyranny.
For future generations, this legacy we gave.
In this, the land of the free and home of the brave.
“The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you’d always keep.
But tyrants labored endlessly while your parents were asleep.
Your freedom gone, your courage lost, you’re no more than a slave.
In this, the land of the free and home of the brave.
“You buy permits to travel, and permits to own a gun, permits to
start a business, or to build a place for one.
On land that you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent.
Although you have no voice in choosing, how the money’s spent.
“Your children must attend a school that doesn’t educate.
Your Christian values can’t be taught, according to the state.
You read about the current news, in a regulated press.
You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the I.R.S.
“Your money is no longer made of Silver or of Gold.
You trade your wealth for paper, so your life can be controlled.
You pay for crimes that make our Nation, turn from God in shame.
You’ve taken Satan’s number, as you’ve traded in your name.
“You’ve given government control, to those who do you harm,
so they can padlock churches, and steal the family farm, and
keep our country deep in debt, put men of God in jail, and harass
your fellow countrymen, while corrupted courts prevail.
“Your public servants don’t uphold the solemn oath they’ve sworn.
Your daughters visit Doctors, so their children won’t be born.
Your leaders ship artillery and guns to foreign shores,
And send your sons to slaughter, fighting other people’s wars.
“Can you regain the freedom for which we fought and died?
Or don’t you have the courage, or the faith to stand with pride?
Are there no more values for which you’ll fight to save?
Or do you wish your children, live in fear and be a slave?
“Sons of the Republic, arise and take a stand!
Defend the Constitution, the Supreme Law of the Land!
Preserve our Great Republic, and each GOD-Given Right!
And pray to GOD, to keep the torch of Freedom burning bright!”
As I awoke he vanished, in the mist from whence he came.
His words were true, we are not Free, we have ourselves to blame.
For even now as tyrants trample each GOD-Given Right,
We only watch and tremble, too afraid to stand and fight.
If he stood by your bedside, in a dream, while you’re asleep,
and wonders what remains of our Rights he fought to keep,
what would be your answer, if he called out from the grave:
“IS THIS STILL THE LAND OF THE FREE
AND HOME OF THE BRAVE?”
Random Riddle: 6-27-2014
| My first is simply a vegetable, delicious, round and green. My third and fourth are sound asleep, as plainly can be seen. My fifth is fifty, clear enough for any riddle-setter. Two of my second stacked on their sides will give my final letter. Now that my second has my parts, fit them together well. You see me now before your eyes; it’s plain for all to tell. |
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John Stossel – ObamaSCARE
The latest from John Stossel along with a poem “The Website” from FreedomWorks.
(in the tradition of Edgar Allen Poe)
Once upon an Autumn morning, as I woke up without warning,
The sunrise barely dawning, casting shadows on the floor,
I started my computer, checked my studly WiFi router
And clicked to check a website I had heard of oft before.
Healthcare dot gov it was nam-ed, and promised health care plans galore.
Just the plans and nothing more.See, yesterday my postman’s walking and his strong insistent knocking.
Brought to me a rather shocking note that chilled me to my core.
Cancelled! Gone! My insurance! Though I had complete assurance,
From many an occurrence during Obama’s campaign tour.
All those promises I heard during that massive campaign tour
Hardly mentioned evermore.Oh, I well recall that time, back in the year 2009,
Our President said “I’m gonna make you a deal you can’t ignore.
You won’t lose the plan that you love. I swear it to the stars above.
Even though we’ll add a lot of people who weren’t there before.
But don’t worry about that really, worry is such an awful bore.
That he said, and plenty more.My heart, though heavy, lifted as my thoughts to the web site drifted,
And I felt I had been gifted with that promise that he swore.
On my keyboard did I type the web address that he hyped,
My anticipation ripe, a health plan I would surely score.
An affordable, wondrous health plan bought right from the gov’ment store.
Quoth the website, “404”.“Huh”, I grunted quietly. I typed it again, defiantly,
Must be traffic arriving mightily to the website’s server core.
I clicked once on the center of the button they marked “Enter”
Told them my age and gender, where I lived and so much more.
Income, marital status, children, my favorite band and more
Quoth the website, “404”.“Oh, come on!”, I shouted, reeling, gaze cast up toward the ceiling.
“I can’t spend my day dealing with this. Work!”, I did implore.
The error message mocked me. From my health plan it had blocked me.
Then the darned thing locked my computer up from any chore.
A spinning ball kept me from even the most mundane chore.
Oh, how I hated 404.To the help line I did hurry, my mind filled full of worry,
I dialed in a hurry, a helpful angel to implore.
Sure enough, a conversation in which I voiced my keen frustration,
“It is an aberration”, she said. “A glitch, we’ve seen before.
You need not fear another, for we’ve seen this thing before.”
Quoth the website, “404”.We spoke an hour longer, but the glitch only grew stronger,
And it seemed she did prolong her excuse-making galore.
I could not hide my ire. What programmers did they hire?
My situation is dire, I explained from on the floor,
(I had grown quite weary talking and had lain down on the floor).
“Get rid of this 404!”She could not explain this cursed glitch I had attained,
They had barely trained her to stray from her typed script score.
Our call then terminated and I felt that I had fainted.
My noble spirit subordinated by Barack Obama’s war,
Against my poor defenseless health plan he had declared bloody war.
His weapon? The 404.“Oh cruel fate”, I shouted! I railed and screamed and pouted.
My frustrations I spouted until I could yell no more.
But nothing I concocted could free me from the locked
State of my computer, blocked from doing anything more.
Healthcare dot gov had undone me. I could do not one thing more.
Quoth the website, “404”.And that beach ball, never dimming, still is spinning, still is spinning,
As I bash my forehead deskward for the fortieth time or more.
And my browser’s locked up tightly like a bank that closes nightly,
And my curses most unsightly make my vocal cords so sore.
And I’ve offered every curse word any sailor thought he’d swore,
I am trapped in 404.