Flammeus Gladius

Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis

Tag: frauds

Short and Round

Short and Round

Has anybody noticed that he’s short
And round, this NATO hero of the hour
To whom our global leaders all pay court?
Has anybody noticed that he’s short—
And, in his t-shirt, of the sweaty sort,
This seamy guy who over all must tower?
Has anybody noticed that he’s short
And round, this NATO hero of the hour?

–Tom Riley

Very Funny

Very Funny

The comedian, miserable cuss,
Rules the land of Ukraine now – and thus
There arises a rumor:
He’s a guy we must humor.
If he laughs, then the joke is on us.

–Tom Riley

False Indeed

False Indeed

It may be false, indeed, what I declare—
But nonetheless I can’t be called a liar.
Expecting facts from me is far from fair.
It may be false indeed, what I declare
With unrestrained conviction. On the air
It may ring loud and never quite expire.
It may be false indeed, what I declare.
But, nonetheless, I can’t be called a liar.

–Tom Riley

Normals

Normals

“The Normals” is what Fat Boy calls his crew
Of mindless drones, conventional as shit
Fresh from huge bovine asses. Me and you?
We are excluded, folks. We just don’t fit.
This sad truth now I hasten to admit.
I don’t have tons of suet at my waist.
Shirt off, I don’t display tit next to tit.
When I shave close, I am not Innsmouth-faced.
And, worst of all, my literary taste
Is not erected on a normal bed
Of ignorance. That ground has been erased
By study, which I’ve long preferred instead.
Yet set aside such unavailing fact!
Smugness in Normalland remains intact.

–Tom Riley

(Without the facial fur, Mark Shea clearly displays the Innsmouth look.)

Tale of a Chubby Cheerleader

Tale of a Chubby Cheerleader

Mark Shea the Bogus Catholic’s A-okay
With cheering on abortion as a right.
His loyalty he’s happy to display.
At last, he’s seen the baby-killing light—
And with those who have not he’ll gladly fight
Online, though fisticuffs are not his deal.
The great big picture now he keeps in sight.
If you object, he snorts and says: “Get real!”
Before Joe Biden he is proud to kneel—
Though maybe Brainless Joe won’t stoop so low
As to sniff such a head or cop a feel
Of flabby pansy flesh presented so.
Nevertheless, Shea offers firm support
For the right, now held sacred, to abort.

–Tom Riley

Mark Shea the Science Gay

Mark Shea the Science Gay

Now every Saturday the fat fraud Shea
Posts someone else’s stuff addressing “science”
In superficial terms. His sad display
Of gee-whiz fanboy shit, and his reliance
On others: both are signs supremely clear
That utter ignorance is his condition
And uncommitted blathering his sphere.
Of course, crass self-promotion is his mission.
He hasn’t read through Darwin. That’s for sure.
Nevertheless, he’ll crow for “evolution.”
For such vile vanity, is there a cure?
Can facts fix such a bogus constitution?
For these impossibilities don’t seek!
He’s guilty of small science – and less Greek.

–Tom Riley

Smell a Fraud

Smell a Fraud

I smell a fraud – and know the fraud I smell.
He’s pushing classical mis-education.
The cat is dead—but mice still hear the bell.
I smell a fraud and know the fraud I smell.
He’s under rhetoric’s insistent spell
But screws up every earnest peroration.
I smell a fraud – and know the fraud I smell.
He’s pushing classical mis-education.

–Tom Riley

Sorry Spectacle

Sorry Spectacle

Pope Francis has apologized again
For something that in truth did not occur.
Liars accuse the Church. He says amen,
Positioning himself as minister
To all the wounded souls that never were.
Along the way, he pisses on the dead.
Do those he seeks to satisfy then purr
A pleased response? No chance. They roar instead
And soft Bergoglio’s bogus act is fed
A whole new fuel. The cycle will proceed.
Repeating all the pointless things he’s said,
The pope will grasp the sucker’s role with greed
Because he loves to posture and to suck.
For Christians now alive, he’s rotten luck.

–Tom Riley

Exemplary Generosity

Exemplary Generosity

“I’m generous with other people’s money,
And therefore I’m the finest Catholic sage!”
Says Mark P. Shea, who doesn’t think it’s funny.
“I’m generous with other people’s money,
And therefore I deserve both milk and honey.
I am the Pastry Prophet of the Age!
I’m generous with other people’s money—
And therefore I’m the finest Catholic sage.”

–Tom Riley

Fat-Ass White Savior Done Saved the Black Folk Again!

Fat-Ass White Savior Done Saved the Black Folk Again!

A new commandment Shea bestows on us:
“Thou shalt be woke and shalt not mock the woke!”
It follows that we must not make a joke
That Shea does not approve of. On our bus,
He’s now a Freedom Rider! Don’t discuss
How dated is his posture here, nor choke
On his self-righteousness! Wrapped in a cloak
Of many colors, he’s dead serious.
He loves the Black Experience. He does!
There’s never been a savior quite as white
As he is. He transcends red facial fuzz
And honky intonations. Dyn-o-mite!
He cries with a decided nasal buzz.
But still, you Negroes think he’s peachy, right?

–Tom Riley