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Inside & Somewhere Else

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Poetic Jerry, writer, poet, producer and composer and so much more

From Inside...journaux de création

Poetic Jerry, writer, poet, producer and composer and so much more

nelson mederik

18301836_1316406035111056_7750280903335935609_n.jpg

Jerry Alexandre has dedicated his adult life to writing. As a poet, short story writer, playwright, novelist, composer/lyricist, producer, stage actor, spoken word performer, English teacher, essayist, children book writer, radio commentator, newspaper journalist, political and social activist, he left Montreal to teach English in South Korea in 2006. While in South Korea, Jerry struggled with alcoholism and racism to maintain his sanity. He escaped death quite a few times. Once in the hands of a group of American Soldiers in Seoul, he did his best to protect himself and to avoid being brutally mutilated at a bar. Having been the only civilian amongst a heap of soldiers, someone concluded somehow it was his time to die. So, she got her friends and colleagues to execute her deadly plan.

Discouraged by the hardship of life and abandoned by hope due to the worst form of social exclusion in South Korea, Jerry decided afterward to commit suicide once he realized how alone he was in the world. Also, he was shocked when his cry for help was simply ignored by his own sibling. It was hard then to figure if life had finally been worth living. In addition, he got into a motor bike accident in Thailand that could be fatal. Jerry dealt with chronic depression silently for many years.

After several attempts to go overdose with a few bottles of whisky and some over the counter pills, Alexandre had eventually discovered another path of life. His career in music has become possible after an unexpected collaboration with a Montreal based singer who accepted to record his first single, Keep on smiling.

Music had not simply become another opportunity for him to reintegrate society, but it had also become a source of life, an opportunity to breathe a totally different air in his suffocating world. As a result, Jerry Alexandre, the composer/lyricist and producer returned to Montreal in 2016 to establish his career as an investor in music. At last, Jerry’s horizon is so broad and brilliant that it will require a complete biography to recount all his experiences and ventures around the world, particularly his strength to overcome the worse obstacle in society.      


 

Here some texts...

The Obnoxious


“After twenty years of writing, I believe I can write good stories. It’s not by chance that I’m one of the best in the world. I deserve some credit at least from you, Neglected. Acknowledge the prize winner.”
“Stop rambling, mourning, and crying, my friend.”

“Don’t talk to me like this. I hate your attitude,” John Futile-Blind scoffed. “You complain too much as a child.”

“We have enough of that stupidity in the media and the White House. People are tired of the mockery with no story line. Lies and denial are not made for comedy. deception isn’t any policy to fix the broken system. A thinker isn’t some Hollywood fame seeker,” Neglected settled in his seat to repel the long ride along the road of narcissism.

“Don’t insult me. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Futile-Blind objected.

“Seriously, you seem ready like most of the morons on television to sell your soul to a clown for fame.”

“I’m already famous and loved, Neglected.”

“Really, I wish I knew that. At the same time, they’re willing to do and say just anything to get attention from the public for a disgraceful position in a clown’s school of thought. They deceive with a solenm stare, though their hands are firmed on the bible and the trigger simultaneously.”

“That’s society, isn’t it?”

“They want to be praised for their nonsense, John.Wake up.”

“I’m up. Does it look like I’m sleeping to you.”

“I can’t tell. Some people sleep walk in society. Ponder upon this situation. These clown followers invite people with no moral authority to comment on the news in order to influence the kind of bigotry that causes hatred to flare among all ethnic groups both in our institutions and the streets. They show no qualm for the mass killings they encourage in the schools, and I doubt this is your cause of life since a part of his mockery, especially the president’s rant, the scandal driven clown administrator, is totally despicable, and I wonder if you also support his position. Anyway, connivance is no leadership skill.”  
“Yeah, I don’t want to speak about politics. Tell me. I want to know.”

“Tell you what, John?”

John Futile-Blind contemplated about what to say. He stared at Neglected. He had no direction to speak in his head. Then, he suddenly decided to change the conversation.

“What do you think about writing?” He inquired. “I’m a damn good author. So, I can speak however I want, Neglected,” John Futile-Blind straightened himself. He flashed his diamond ring to project his grandeur while sitting across from his friend. The low table impeded him from stretching his legs like he was relaxing somewhere on the sand near some beach.

“No doubt! You’re perhaps the best… the perfect model to copy in your category, but I wish you would be a bit more reserved, considerate as you talk to me. I’m not just a layman from nowhere to be talked down to,” Neglected simpered. Then, he cleared his throat. His forehead winkled. He could not conceal his frustration.
“I know. How many prizes have you won? So far, I have three under my belt. I’m a heavy weight fighter in this literary ring. Praise me because of my achievements.”

“It’s hard to praise something without any merit, John.”

“To tell you the truth, you don’t need to be jealous of me. I can show you how to rise to the top,” John picked up his cup and sipped his coffee. In a very extravagant way, he crossed his legs and reached for the magazine which he bought before he came to meet Neglected. He flicked the pages like a gentleman in an old British movie while browsing through the pictures. Literally, as James Bond, he was ready to blow up the café.
“John Futile-Blind, you missed the point. A prize doesn’t mean anything. I guess you’re one of the writers who believe writing doesn’t need to be about something. You simply write for the sake of writing nothing and hope that you can deconstruct our views with nonsense whenever you feel like it. To tell you the truth, I’m tired of that kind of rhetorical boasting and philosophical awkwardness, rather the emptiness in your speech.”
“Oh, yes! That’s why I’m great. I write for the sake of nothing, and I win prizes. I don’t need to be vainglorious about my career. Everyone recognizes my greatness,” Futile-Blind slicked his hair back as if he had a ponytail and ran his fingers forward to straignten the front. He simply needed a mirror to pose as a super model for a few minutes. He felt more than handsome in the chair. Famous and financially comfortable, he was on top of the world.
“Do you know that nothing doesn’t exist, and you’re always writing about something?” Neglected grinded his teeth as he stared at him.
“Yes, I write about nothing. That’s it, and I find no need to do otherwise. I’m naturally great, gifted with the ability to tell stories.” Now, John was rolling around the diamond ring in his pinky finger.
“Again, Futile-Blind, I have no reason to applaud you. There’s nothing to glorify on a blank page.”

“Yours aren’t filled. I can’t understand.”

To Neglected, it seemed like only the clothes and jewelry made Futile-Blind look important. He gazed at him, yet he could not hide the sneer on his face. “To write about nothing, you have to publish blank pages, John. That’s my point,” Neglected looked around the room. Suddenly, he seemed annoyed.
“Neglected, then nobody would read my stories.”
“It’s the contrary. People don’t read my stories since I write about something to force them to think and to properly consider who they are in society. I question and answer the many questions that I hear throughout conversations even here in this café. I take great pride in my work because I give the audience a reason to think about my name. I enjoy what I do.”
“I don’t really have to do the same, Neglected. I just entertain the populace with my stories as the president govens his land. I’m straight forward. There’s no collusion with the literary community.”

“With these unstubtantiated statements, these cruel lies? I hope not. Perhaps you don’t send emails to bribe the committee members. You tell them to eliminate your enemies while you’re on your book tours, you appeal to them indirectly.”

“I do what I must to win, and book sellers... publishers believe that I’m great. They celebrate my presence every time they see me. They long to be in my company,” John Futile-Blind deposited the magazine back on the table and gazed at his friend. The brief silence was a bit disturbing and annoying, and that caused John to look hostile in a very subtle way.

Neglected did not react immediately. He remained unfazed in his seat to absorb his weaknesses through the penetrating look in his eyes. He tried to analyze his thoughts intuitively. At first glance, the stare seemed to have transfixed his composure. John Futile-Blind appeared motionless for a few seconds. Then, Neglected simply glimpsed at his watch to verify the time. Somehow, he reminded himself that he had an appointment with his wife, and he did not wish to be late even by a fraction of a second. Realizing he had some more time to waste in the café, he leaned forward.  
“I know this is what you do. For instance, I hammer my brain with heavy reflections. In return, I am read only by a highly selected group of people, yet I don’t win prizes. Good writings don’t become popular instantly. At times, the author isn’t understood by the mass people immediately. Simply, I have to wait for my own time. I figure people have to read the pages, and they have to think about the lines in order to grasp the significance of my message. I know this is not a small task. This isn’t something you can require of the audience since most people prefer blank pages, something that they can either read while watching Judge Judy or Jerry Springer on the mockery networks,” Neglected in turn grabbed his cup to sip his coffee humbly as he waited with anticipation for the expected answer from John.
“Neglected, I’ve got to have an audience. I write for the sake of writing. It doesn’t have to be about something, I tell you,” John Futile-Blind also picked up his cup with an air of grandiosity to sip his coffee slowly. The whole scene was turned into a beauty show, a pageant contest. He strove in vain to portray himself as an aristocrat in a poor neighborhood coffee shop.
“So, Futile-Blind, you admit that you published blank pages,” Neglected tried not to hide the smirk on his face while looking at his friend.
“Today, prestige isn’t about the impact you make in society. Prestige is about how many prizes you have won, and I have a few,” John Futile-Blind affirmed confidently.
“I understand your point now, and why you write the way you do, Futile-Blind. You help me figure out this reality and understand that any form of intelligence isn’t really appreciated in today’s society. Money, which is a sign of success, doesn’t signify that you’re that competent to lead a generation of thinkers and aspiring philosophers.

“Nowadays, philosophy is for fools. People don’t think. We live in a fast food culture, and writers like everyone else have to adapt to the changes. Socrates would be forgotten a week after his death in this era of social network.”

“The naked imbecile parade on Facebook or the clowns circus on Twitter, they both host countless morons to praise the nonsense.”

“All of them, they keep the world busy. People want their news, literature, and entertainment quick. School is just a part of an established culture. In reality, the institutions of learning are empty. There’s no need to write things people can’t understand, particularly they don’t read that much anymore.”   

“Like the White House, you would put a whole society in disarray and cause the media too to become confused about everything. Fortunately, you’ve yet written scandal on every page that you have so far published. We’re happy to simply put a heap of morons in power. There’s nothing stately about them. It’s hard to treat them as heads of states and intellectuals with the slightest authority to deceive us. It’s simply the financial achievement of the individual that matters. So, you’re really proud of what you have done?” Neglected glanced at the newspaper on the table nearby to remind himself of the most powerful man in the world. The colorful picture portrayed him red as an overripe tomato. Although not constipated, so full of crap, he appeared as if he was about to burst. His politics stunk like a skunk in his fridge.
“Of course, you can view it like that. Look at me. I’m quite comfortable in my skin. My fame and financial success are noticeable wherever I go. This is what happens when you know your audience,” John simpered.
“Then, you mean dunces can win prizes too in that contest.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re losing your head, Neglected.”

“I’m simply trying to figure everything out. The populace is careless about the winner. No one thinks about the quality of the laureate. Someone just bestows prestige and the privlege to feel grand upon whomever seems fit.”

“It’s a lottery for greatness, John.”

“People are chosen from a batch of names.”

“Ah, I get it. This is the honor you seek, John? Don’t get me wrong. I just wonder. You’re an epitome of the president, clown of the century. Look at you, the man of his time.”
“This is the liberalization of the literary community. Everyone has a chance to stand out among the few.”

“I see, John. So, it’s worthless to scribble any deep reflection to educate and to reveal our intelligence to the rest of the world. Whatever we put on paper to cajole the mindless mass that seeks simply to be distracted from the reality of life is acceptable. Then, we should all focus on the need to entertain the multitude. From that crowd, we can find the heap of dunces to claim our greatness. These people are already there to willingly give their approval to whoever can persuade them with gibberish to feel exceptional. I understand you now. I guess you’re a Republican at heart.”
“What do you mean, Neglected?”
“A heavy weight fighter like you is unable to explain the simplicity of a proper right punch… I just don’t get it. You have all these belts in your possession. How did you knock out your opponents to get your belts, Champs? Help me understand you. I’m a bit confused,” Neglected grabbed the magazine by curiosity to peruse the pages again. He pretended to be distracted by the cover picture.

“We’re not destined to achieve everything we want and have been working for. It takes a particular skill to convince the world about your greatness and to influence others’ opinions. More than a whole bunch of words is necessary to persuade the crowd. Lots of people don’t simply follow a clown. You must be a skilled one,” he tried to dismiss Neglected with a simple gesture. He waved with his right hand even before he finished his sentence. “Winners are naturally born to win.”

“Of course, I see what you mean. It matters not even if they cheat to obtain a belt. A win is a win, you mean. Even if the opponent calls Russia on the campaign trail to hack the other’s email as he implored for help, that’s fine with you? I want to hear your opinion.”

“Of course, Neglected, winning is better than losing.”

“Who do you pay to win these prizes? You see. I’m not wealthy, so I won’t win one any time soon.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re not all here to win everything. I figured that out a long time ago, Neglected.” At once, John loosed up and breathed freer in his chair.

“In the last decade, the prime minister’s office has been treated as the quarter of a dupe. Now, we have a man, oh gosh... Clown!” Neglected shook his head in disbelieve,  “With a penguin hair cut running the office of the presidency of our neighbors. He strives to take part in every nonsense as if he were engaged in some moronic contest to conquer the world. He has already ascended to the highest level of power or office a husckster can occupy in the land. Unfortunately, he is popular for his jokes among the mass. He entertains the blind with his tweets. Perhaps he is cleverer than you, yet you’re a popular thinker with no substantial idea to share. That’s the problem. The debauchery does not simply affect the literary world. Schools are worthless from my viewpoint. Many professors vouched for him. They brought him to power. I guess bigotry is better appreciated than any form of commonsense. Men like Thomas Paine don’t walk the land anymore. It’s time for a Minutemen revolt and not a KKK uprising with Nazi banners, cars ramming into big crowds like terrorists to promulgate their white supremacist ideology. These modern clowns betrayed their flag and country for power. They stand behind a traitor to mask their patriotism. McCain is still the same hero, the exceptional soldier that he always was even in Vietnam. He put country and people in front on the Senate floor to stand on principle. He distinguished himself from the puppet show.”

“He couldn’t do the same in the war.”

“John, I rather lose a war than to be disloyaled to my country. Treason is despicable. He stood out where it mattered most,” Neglected checked his watch.

“Everything is allowed to make the country great again. That’s what those who voted for him want.”   

“Even racism, John, that brings up his approval rating, and you agree with that. Imagine the next decade. We’re moving away from a cowboy culture to embrace a puppet show, an insane clown, a Twitter addict as a head of state. I guess that too is allowed. There’s no constitutional autocracy. We can’t turn the Oval Office into a clown show and Twitter into a circus to implement the principle of mockery. There’s more than mocking people to embody the highest level of governance.”

“Ah, Neglected, you’re just being too harsh. I guess you’re a Hillary supporter.”

“Come with your accusation, incompetent,” Neglected looked solenm. The winkles on his forehead characterized how serious he was. He meant every word.

“Control yourself. I did not come here to get into a verbal duel with you. Keep the assault to yourself,” John striked the same pose with an hair of superiority.   

“Pity! He only sees Nazism as his principle of governance. He has learned nothing from Europe. People walk with no special card even in Germany now. That’s absurd. He thinks with waterboading somehow he was going to rule a concentration camp filled with Muslims instead of a democratic state that forces one to abide by the law, the constitution, Stupid.”
“The man saw the celebration when the Twin Towers were going down, except he can’t prove it since he has no immediate footage of the occurrence.”

“Then, his opinion is invalid, John. He related the tale simply for propaganda purposes.”

“That can happen. Maybe he had no more battery in his cell phone to record the event or the line was just not working properly. WiFi wasn’t available everywhere back then. Twitter would not work. The old phone had no internet connection,” John Futile-Blind, as a Fox News reporter, tried to exonerate the president.

“He didn’t pay the bill, I guess. He went bankrupt quite a few times. Maybe the phone had no data back then.”

“I wish to be that kind of bankrupt, Neglected. It was vacation from the financial market and some rest from the hastle of the world. The rich will never become poor. The government provide them with enough tax cuts to sustain their lifestyle. More people are dying hungry while the stock market is still booming.”

“That can happen even to a billionaire for squandering his money. Look at how many of them went to prison in the last decade. Some were simply con-artists. Think about him. Buying hair products to keep up with a certain style, he lost control of his wallet and composure. I figure where he learned how to fire people. His secretary and accountant deserved it. He looks just like a demagogue, a real life penguin. He speaks and accuses others without the evidence readily available to show the world,” Neglected tried not to laugh. “Anyway, let’s talk about your prizes instead. I hope we don’t experience more than eight years of senseless wars again. Obama just delayed the reign of Eastern Europe and Asia when he rescued the financial sectors. Otherwise, instead of his clothes that are being made in China now and the steel he imports to build his towers, he would be speaking Mandarin proficiently. He already saw the place as the environment for one of his biggest investment projects. Therefore, that would change nothing in his life. It would be his most recognized ally instead of Israel or England.”

“It’s wrong to think that.”

“John, I would be friendlier too where I invest my money. Politics is the game of protecting our own interests, anyway. Accept it, and play it just like him. Look. He did not want to kill the mass with the size of his tax return. Imagine that nonsense. His wealth would shock the world. You can do it also to win more prizes. Just display the beauty of ignorance for the glory of morons and the hilarity of demagogues. Afterwards, you might become qualify to run the prime minister’s office. Think about it. Prime Minister Futile-Blind. The country would love you, too. You simply need to be friendlier to the Russians. That’s your ticket right there.”

“Umm, maybe you have a point. It would not be funny. I have no more time to sit around simply to learn a new language, Neglected. I’m satisfied with my English, although it may not sound all that perfect to most people,” John Futile-Blind pensively reached for his cup of coffee while staring at who was really challenging his intellect. He loved and hated his friend at the same time. “I like coffee,” he murmured as he posed with his back held straight to make the view look picturesque as he sipped from the cup very gently.

“Let’s talk about you. I have no time for politics now,” Neglected suddenly stopped speaking to allow him enough time to savor the black liquid in his mouth.

John Futile-Blind did not like sugar and cream. So, he always drank his coffee black. Instead of the liquid, it was the aroma of the strong but scented beans that attracted him. The odor often pulled him like invisible hands to enter any coffee shop in town. Also, he believed the substance was good for his kernel after he had read about some scientific discovery that explained exactly what coffee does to the heart. Thinking at least even a cup a day was enough to eradicate any heart attack, he made sure to delight in the liquid whenever he had a chance to sit somewhere peacefully to treasure the product. In fact, it did not matter where it came from. He was nonetheless glad to see it in front of him.

“Coffee has good health effects. I read somehow a cup a day is perfect for the heart,” Futile-Blind joyfully took another sip.

Neglected thoughtfully reflected about what he just heard. He imagined John drank coffee for all the wrong reasons. Then, he replied. “Your diet instead of coffee stops you from having a heart attack. Perhaps you read that from some medical magazine. I also heard about that, but I doubt the verity of that reseach. I hope the scientists are right. However, meat is the number one killer. I eat less and less red meat. Anyway, meat in general, it’s not the best thing to preserve my health. Nah... I want to live longer. Plaques are an endless cause of heart attack, Futile-Blind. Meat sends people to lie early in their graves.”

“The whole world would die already. Meat has always been a part of our diet,” John confirmed.

“Remember science was less developed then. Nuts and vegatables are more nutritious. In fact, life’s expectation was shorter. Scientists had no knowledge about that,” Neglected explained the effects of meat to the heart. “You know your life and diet stink when you can smell them in the toilet bowl. Coffee can’t cleanse everything you’re doing wrong.”

“Yeah,” he waved his right hand as a sign to say, “Quiet.” He refused to listen. John Futile-Blind adored his bloody steak. He usually frequented expensive steak restaurants to flaunt his wealth. Then, he savored a cup of coffee for its health substance and cardio benefits. The worse was he did not know that coffee could never erase the nebulous effects of meat in the body. While he assured himself to never become addicted to drinking coffee, he did not fancy to find out more about the beans. Nothing beyond what he had learned in magazines and hearsays was of interest to him. In general, green vegetables would be more beneficial to consume than coffee. At least, he would get all the necessary vitamins the body requires to remain energized and fit health wise. In addition, nuts are a treasure trove. They have more health benefits.

“Chew and swallow until you find yourself six feet under. Or, you can find your proteins elsewhere,” Neglected returned the same look with a more composed posture to challenge him.  

“That pleases more. I like the texture of my steak. Don’t get me wrong. I do eat my vegetables. Steamed broccoli and seafood are a delicacy to me,” he countered and continued to say, “anyway, I’m not here to speak about my diet. I like my prizes. I’ve got them finely displayed in my library. Those prizes represent my genius. I mean by writing about nothing I won them. You understand me well now. You’ve already said it a million times. I guess I did not need to repeat myself once more.” Disconcerted! John Futile-Blind, as he wanted to grab some napkins from the counter, pushed his chair forcefully backward to get up. He strode the floor with superhuman-like gates. There was nothing that distinguished him from Robocop at that moment. It was like Arnold Schwarzegger. “I’ll be back.” Unspoken, it seemed as though those scary words could be read from his lips.

Neglected jumped and raised his head to observe what was happening in front of him. He looked startled as he was taken totally aback by the rattling sound of the chair’s legs. Briskly, he began to look over his shoulders and everywhere else to figure who was just staring at him or John. Because of the hour of day, there were barely anyone else sitting at the few tables that surrounded them. John Futile-Blind almost had all the floor of the coffee shop for himself and his dear friend to enjoy. Except, as Neglected looked around, he observed only a man who seemed to recognize John Futile-Blind since he had perhaps seen his pictures on some book covers at the major bookstores in town gazed at him. He turned around to look back at him while wondering about the individual’s curiosity. The strange stare caught his attention. With baffling eyes and sealed lips, the man never bulged. Neglected assumed he nevertheless wanted to figure certain things about John. He did not seem quite happy. While pondering and trying to read Neglected’s facial expression, he watched each move John made meticulously to express his discontent. John had created a whole scene while reaching to simply grab the napkins from the counter next to the pole, where it was placed against the wall, just a few feet from the steps. As he entered the coffee shop, they had wondered about if there were anyone upstairs. The atmostsphere was really settled. Not even a soul was clearly visible from the entrance door.      

“What’s going on through your mind?” Neglected inquired when he returned to the table.

“Your words explain everything already,” John raised his tone.

“Sometimes, I hate that with you. You always ask me what you never want to know. Tell me the purpose of your question.”

 

 

Really Trump?

Turn on your TV
The circus is back on
The clown is in the Rose Garden

Lying as a thief

The nature of a man

Fake news

The obnoxious clown is proud
Proud to be the absurdity of his time
Backwad nationalist

Flag bearer

With a traitor’s heart

Fake news

The commander who can't honor a soldier
Stirring controversies about the flag,

Yet he longs to rise on history’s pedestal

Signing executive orders to dismantle

His predecessor’s achievements

To value his own empty achievement

Fake news

Is that him?

O The Obnoxious!

The Obnoxity of America

Wow!

Fake news

No, the media is mistaking. 
Fake news!

Oh, fake news

Everything is fake news

 

Russia,

Puerto Rico,

Dead soldiers,

Niger

Sexual harassment

Grabbing genitals, hey

The law suits

All fake news

 

The powerful commit no crime

Harvey Weinstein

Who threw the first stone

The misogynist team leader

Locker room grabbing

Boys on the bus, hein

Let the tap roll, roll, and roll

Women still lack the rights to their private parts

 

Fake news

The White House vies on fake news

 

Orange hair

Pumpkin face

Fake news

Fake news
Denial

Fake news

Career liar

Fake news

Popular vote lost

Fake news


How dare you oblige all to stand
When appealing to a foe to reach your aim?

Fake news, hein
 

Assail the victims of racism,

Lynching, Jim Crow, Segregation

To divide and exclude minorities

Mr. President, treason ain't nationalism

 

Loyalty is no detergent to clean your dirt

Putin may not cook the evidence

To serve the masses on Facebook

Niger is your Benghazi

Fake news

 

From the formation of the union until now

Blacks were put aside for the slave masters

To slaughter heartlessly in cotton fields

For overseers to massacre incessantly

For buses to throw in the back

For society to send to the back door

For offices to keep out the doors

For mobs with badges to kill mercilessly
Now, you think a knee is dishonorable

The anthem is above the ones being murdered

Senselessly for centuries in the streets

Really Trump?

Bigotry isn’t presidential

Rise to the height of the office

Be presidential, Mr. President

 

Were Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, Philando Castile,

Alton Sterling, Michael Brown Jr., Dante Parker,

Ezell Ford, Tanisha Anderson, Akai Gurley,

Tamir Rice, Rumain Brisbon, Jerame Reid,

And Tony Robinson murders acceptable to you?

You perhaps shrugged their corpses on the ground

And in coffins as the soldiers with your narcissistic eyes

The stare is obvious on the podium

Just run your finger through your hair as you pose there

Hmm...


The land you claim to love so dearly
Was just a patch for a foreign force
To help you seize so ambiguously

Some are just Russians at heart

 

Their advertisements aren’t fake news, hein?

We know, Mr. President

Meetings in your tower were secret society gatherings

Loyalty is required to conseal your cult of secrecy

Sessions sits in the Senate with his tongue tied

With the fear of being disloyal

To a man who has never been loyal

Words are too heavy for him to lift

Presidential privilege has turned into the fifth

A plea which was never pleaded

To clear the blur in the Russia scare

 

The Facebook ads invasion

Wisconsin confusion

Phony election

Fraud delusion

What about your nomination

The attact on immigration

Fake news illusion
Lies are no evasion

Mr. President

What about your condition

Pathological l.i.a.r!

Mental masturbation

The dilemma of a devilish conception

Military miscalculation

War in every imagination

Goddamn! The nation!

Is North Korea a manifestion?

A rocket man and a dotard in a competition

 

Amagaddon hangs in whimsical rhetoric

Commanders treading upon immaturity

Nuclear bombs are yet made in toy forms

For the callow mind to chase a foe with


Now, in its highest office,
You strut as Achilles in Troy

More patriotic than soldiers on the battlefields

Unable to apologize on your high horse

They know what they signed for

Really? Come on, Mr. President

Such absence of decorum,

Ignorance of diplomacy

Indecisive hypocricy

Again, a show of denial?

Cry about the flag when unable to eulogize

The hearts that wear the uniform with valiancy

To safeguard a democracy you’re ready

To trade for the glory to uplift your ego

Please! Away with that white supremacy!

You’re better than that, some said

 

Death written all over their affidavits

Mr. President, you never wore those boots

Fire and fury were nowhere to assist the dead

Honor the soldiers

Respect the call to duty

The Office of the Presidency!

Not even time builds the character
Of a fickle in these exquisite suits

Money makes a clown even more frivilous

Than a lackey in front of his boss

Would you die for the flag, Mr. President?

Oh, is that just your Twitter patriotism?

Spurious nationalism?

The phone is easier than combat to face

Dialing digits is no bullet to dodge

Don’t flee from the families

Still, you left the widow in a daze

Nausea in the middle of a media frenzy

You’re no longer the head of the Apprentice

Heed the White House, Mr. President

Fake news
 

The public is no private office

Where hucksters swindle the weak

To make billions with no merit

Fake news


Look at that pile of empty rag
In the Oval Office
So trivial Twitter has become

Tweet with no purpose

Policies require more than a dozen words

Mr. President

Fake news are no excuses

Leave your lies at your towers

Can't take a career liar for an orator

 

What about Seneca, Cecero, and Ovid?

Shame on historians who raise thee above trivia

Only fools destroy wonders

To embody the evil of thunders

 

Beware of your charade


Forge not your legacy upon debris
To proclaim your greatness amidst the emptiness

 

Mislead the blind with deception

Isn’t patriotism, Mr. President

Half baked nonsense
Spurious nationalism
The words of a hero
A true soldier
A veteran of war, humble
Composed in his sagacious stance
To denounce the travesty in the White House
Such a masquerade on a daily basis
Spare the screen of your orange effigy

Fake news

Isn’t it?

 

Mr. President

Shame on your audacity to lie

With such herculean boldness before the nation

 

Where is the passion

To die as a soldier for the flag?

I rather take a knee to allow a foe

The upper hand in the election

The love for the land is the blood

That runs through these veins

Anyway, fake news

The winner takes all

Black, shut it up
Stand on your feet and honor the flag

Really?

 

Patronizing the victims is the greatness?

What a promise

A silly promise

An election promise

The agenda has become

The persecution on the football fields

 

Diversion is a veil for nine months of idleness

The wall, Obamacare, and tax cuts are where?

More attention is on Twitter than The Congress

 

Legistations are rants on the media circus

The clown is performing his tricks


Is this the anthem to replace the anthem

You marched to in the way to win the elections?

Hey Sir, you? You?
Damn!

Wait! 

Are you free from your conscious?

Maybe you never had one

Stay dormant in your state of forgetfulness

Be the first faceless president in the policy mirror

Look at yourself backward

Your visage is the back of your head

Faking amnesia isn’t a solution

To make America great again

Nine months with zero legislative achievement

Such an accomplishment for the greatest president

Oh, have you even fathomed the First Amendment?

 

The right to protest the injustice you’re unable to see

 

Shove them in the car

 

Is that policing, Mr. President?

 

How about the Bill of Right?

 

It requires reading to figure its content

 

That’s a tall call for a blind man in his white glasses

 

Preying on victims isn’t the best way to lead

 

Enough with your fake news nonsense,  Mr. President