On Voter Fraud
after Li Hongzhi’s poem “On the General Election”
by Evan Mantyk
Is chivalry dead in the hearts of the people?
I knew it was lacking but this is pure evil.
The stars of the night are all seeing what’s happening,
Extending a noose that has just the right slackening.
Oh Say Can It Be?
The experiment has run its course.
Nothing’s left in the tired, old horse.
What values with them do we share?
If we go separate ways, who would care?
What sense does it make to pretend
That a Union exists to defend?
Surely everyone knows that it’s true,
It’s the end of the Red, White and Blue.
Psalm 137, 2020
Here we sit by the rivers of Babylon;
We’re unable to dance or to sing.
Our past blessings, we fear, are forever gone,
And we dread what tomorrow will bring.
Has the Devil, indeed, overtaken us?
Does he sift us now like wheat?
Has the God of our fathers forsaken us?
Is our utter destruction complete?
Do we wonder at what has become of us?
For the blood of the babes we atone.
He entrusted their care to each one of us,
And we dashed them ourselves against stones.
A Crooked Man
“We are not crooks.” —G-Mafiat
There was a crooked man who walked along a crooked mile.
He found a crooked high-tech press that wore a crooked smile.
He got a crooked demon cat to chase his demon rats.
He sought to fill his belfry up with swarms of crooked bats.
He wrought a crooked cabinet with crooked and cracked pots.
He bought as many crooked crocks he could. He wanted lots.
He brought a crooked group of thugs to fill his crooked cart.
He wrought great rot out from the bottom of his crooked heart.
He sought a crooked vote machine which caught a crooked louse;
and they all thought to live together in a crooked house.
Biden was a V.P., Biden was a jerk —
Biden came to my state, to make a con-game work.
I went to Biden’s place, Biden was not in —
Biden came to my state, and stole votes with a grin.
I went to Biden’s place, and just to get ahead,
Biden came to my state, and registered the dead.
I went to Biden’s place, Biden made a list —
Biden forged fake ballots for folks who don’t exist.
I went to Biden’s place, and I raised a beef —
The lying networks chuckled, and gave me no relief.
I went to Biden’s place, he was puffed with gas —
I picked up a harpoon, and shoved it up his ass.
As Mr. Salemi has noted in his flippant piece, folk poetry, even nursery rhymes, can be used to tackle crimes, like voter fraud in the 2020 US election. In such instances, repetition can be an effective tool.
O, We Know Why
by Caud Sewer Bile
“We shall by morning/ Inherit the earth.”
—Sylvia Plath, “Mushrooms”
Why not check votes, Milwaukee, Phoenix, Philadelphia?
Detroit, Atlanta and Las Vegas, Minneapolis?
Why not check absentee and mail-in ballots carefully?
Why not identify the dead who voted recently?
Why not investigate those voting more than only once?
Why not identify the felons and the very young.
Why not identify those over ninety years of age?
Why not identify non-registered on any page?
Why not check where Dominion vote machines have tallied votes?
O, we know why. O, we know why. O, we know why they don’t.
The GOP supporters are ‘BARRed’ from learning the truth that this election was rigged! Let the investigation begin!
Mr. Bhattacharya’s pun is well taken; but the forces arraigned against the truth are legion. Even in Estonia the truth is obvious, but such honesty has caused Mr. Helme to lose his job. Across the Globe, such demonstrations of integrity persist. It is beyond the scope of any poet to grasp, let alone portray, such global bravery; but it exists
Words From the Digital Republic of Estonia
by Adrus Webeceli
“ainult lammas lasebennast pügada”
—an Estonian proverb
The Minister of the Interior, Estonia,
has now resigned from government he finds too phony, ah.
He called America’s election “falsified” results.
and Joe and Hunter Biden “scumbags”, both of them corrupt.
Mart Helme said they “benefited from the deep-state crowd”.
But honest free speech in Estonia is not allowed.
His son then said the US vote was not “legitimate”.
And, too, “there is no question this election has been rigged”.
How strange it is to find one’s country spoken of like this.
He said, “the Constitution won’t apply in the US.”.
These days, there is no crime worse than speaking the truth, and may we all be found guilty of breaking this unwritten law.
This group of poems, including Joseph’s in the Comments, recalls to me some lines by Chinese poet Li Bai, as translated by Jonathan Chaves:
Style and substance mutually illuminate;
a myriad stars twinkle in the autumnal vault.
Thank you, Margaret! What a perfect poem to cite!
Who bash’d th’electorate to a crucifix?
Biden—the Barry Bonds of politics.