Tag: Poems

Political

The Battling Boys Of Benghazi

A short poem you won’t forget.

Do you recall Obama referring to the Benghazi incident as “a bump in the road?”

Today, I heard an ex-Navy Seal being interviewed on Fox News regarding a book he has written about how to handle crisis situations in our lives .

At the end of the interview he asked if he could make a comment on Benghazi, and of course the anchor said “yes.”

He then thanked Fox News for keeping the Benghazi story in the news, since other news organizations are not.

He said the Seals who died deserve the public knowing the truth about the whole affair.

The poem was written by an anonymous Marine Corps officer:

“THE BATTLING BOYS OF BENGHAZI”

We’re the battling boys of Benghazi,

No fame, no glory, no paparazzi.

Just a fiery death in a blazing hell,

Defending our country we loved so well.

It wasn’t our job, but we answered the call,

fought to the Consulate and scaled the wall.

We pulled twenty countrymen from the jaws of fate

Led them to safety and stood at the gate.

Just the two of us and foes by the score,

But we stood fast to bar the door.

Three calls for reinforcement, but all were denied,

So we fought and we fought and we fought

’til we died.

We gave our all for our Uncle Sam,

But Barack and Hillary didn’t give a damn.

Just two dead Seals who carried the load

No thanks to us…we were just

“Bumps In The Road”.

So, will this reach every American with a computer? Or do we act like the press and give a pass to the people who literally sat there in the White House and watched the Seals’ execution on live streaming video and did absolutely nothing?

The Obama Administration obviously won’t be held accountable because they apparently accept Hilary Clinton’s assessment, “What difference does it make?”

And she wants to be the next President?

Pray she is not!”

The Battling Boys Of Benghazi

 

Funny

Twas The Month After Christmas

Twas The Month After Christmas
Twas the month after Christmas,
And all through the house,
Nothing would fit me,
Not even a blouse.

The cookies I’d nibbled,
the chocolate I’d taste,
At the holiday parties
Had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales
There arose such a number!
When I walked to the store
(less a walk than a lumber),

I’d remember the meals
I had prepared;
The gravies and sauces
and beef nicely rared.

The wine and the rum balls,
the bread and the cheese.
And the way I’d never said,
“No thank you, please.”

As I dressed myself
in my husband’s old shirt,
And prepared once again
to do battle with dirt.

I said to myself,
as I only can:
“You can’t spend a Summer,
disguised as a man!”

So, away with the last,
of the sour cream dip.
Get rid of the fruit cake,
every cracker and chip.

Every last bit of food,
that I like must be banished.
Till all the additional
ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie,
not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew,
on a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits,
or corn bread or pie.
I’ll munch on a carrot,
and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome,
and life is a bore.
But isn’t that what
January is for?

Unable to giggle,
no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all,
and to all a good diet.

 

Inspiration Political

The Final Inspection

Final Inspection

The policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

“Step forward now, policeman,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?”

The policeman squared his shoulders,
And said, “No Lord. I guess I ain’t.
Because those who carry badges,
Can’t always be a saint.”

“I’ve had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was rough…
and sometimes I’ve been violent,
because the streets are awful tough.”

“But I never took a penny,
That wasn’t mine to keep…
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.”

“And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I wept unmanly tears.”

“I know I don’t deserve a place,
among the people here.
The never wanted me around,
except to calm their fear.”

“If you’ve a place for me here, Lord,
it needn’t be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But, if you don’t…I’ll understand.”

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where saints had often trod,
As the policeman waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

“Step forward now, policeman,
You’ve borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in hell.”

 

 
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Jokes

Virtual Poetry

Remember when ram meant just a male sheep
And bugs and worms were just things that creep?
When a gopher and a mouse were li’l critters
And virus were microbes that gave one the shivers?

When a web was a sticky net that housed a spider
And nets were just strings all woven together?
When surfing was just riding an ocean wave
And a slip was dodging trouble with a close shave?

When a mime was a painted-face animated mute clown
And hackers were people who slashed things down?
When menus and servers were all about eating
And addresses and homes were places for living?

When Archie and Veronica were actually people
And trolls were pests that were considered mythical?
When mud was just slime and Spam was just food
And to ‘finger’ someone was not considered good?

When to chat and to talk still needed a voice…?
Now being online has all but mooted that choice.

 

Source…

Amusing

How To Observe Thanksgiving

How To Observe Thanksgiving

Count your blessings instead of your crosses.
Count your gains instead of your losses.
Count your joys instead of your woes.
Count your friends instead of your foes.
Count your smiles instead of your tears.
Count your courage instead of your fears.
Count your full years instead of your lean.
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.
Count your health instead of your wealth.
Count on God instead of yourself.

 

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