These are Trump poems, epigrams and puns that I have written while calling myself "The Loyal Opposition"...
The Ex-Prez Sex
by Michael R. Burch
The prez should be above the law, he sez,
even though he’s no longer prez.
***
Jim Crow Pie
by Michael R. Burch
There onst wus a prez who et crow,
which is sorta like blackbird, yuh know,
but bein’ a racist
an’ surely the basest,
he basted the beast with white dough!
***
PAC Man I
by Michael R. Burch
The Donald’s uniquely refined,
for, when threatened with being confined,
as the hammer comes down,
his PAC’s noses (brown)
emerge, and he’s praised, wined and dined.
***
PAC Man II
by Michael R. Burch
The Donald’s unquely refined,
for, although he’s been frequently fined,
he will say, “I don’t mind,
because, as you’ll find,
I pass all my tabs to the blind!”
***
These days Trump's fraudian slip is always showing. — Michael R. Burch aka “the Loyal Opposition”
Trump seems to prefer demon-crazy to democracy.— Michael R. Burch
Under Trump American democracy is going the way of the dodo. — Michael R. Burch
tRUMP is the butt of many jokes.—Michael R. Burch
Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch
***
Stumped and Stomped by Trump
by Michael R. Burch
There once was a candidate, Trump,
whose message rang clear at the stump:
"Vote for me, WHEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!,
because I am ME,
and everyone else is a chump!"
***
The Hair Flap
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
The hair flap was truly a scare:
Trump’s bald as a billiard back there!
The whole nation laughed
At the state of his graft;
Now the man’s wigging out, so beware!
***
Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question
by Michael R. Burch
There once was a brash billionaire
who couldn't afford decent hair.
Vexed voters agreed:
"We're a nation in need!"
But toupée the price, do we dare?
***
Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer
by Michael R. Burch
Oh crap, we elected Trump prez!
Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez!
For if anyone thinks
And says his "plan" stinks,
He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez!
***
Humpty Trumpty
by Michael R. Burch
Humpty Trumpty called for a wall.
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Now all the Grand Wizards
and Faux PR men
Can never put Trumpty together again.
***
Viral Donald (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Donald Trump is coronaviral:
his brain's in a downward spiral.
His pale nimbus of hair
proves there's nothing up there
but an empty skull, fluff and denial.
***
Viral Donald (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Why didn't Herr Trump, the POTUS,
protect us from the Coronavirus?
That weird orange corona of hair's an alarm:
Trump is the Virus in Human Form!
***
White as a Sheet
by Michael R. Burch
Donald Trump had a real Twitter Scare
then rushed off to fret, vent and share:
“How dare Bernie quote
what I just said and wrote?
Like Megyn he’s mean, cruel, unfair!”
***
No Star
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Trump, you're no "star."
Putin made you an American Czar.
Now, if we continue down this dark path you've chosen,
pretty soon we'll all be wearing lederhosen.
***
How the Fourth Reich Ramped Up
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Trump prepped his pale Deplorables:
"You're such easy marks and scorables!
So now when I bray
click your heels and obey,
and I'll soon promote you to Horribles!"
***
Mother of Cowards
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
So unlike the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Spread-eagled, showering gold, a strumpet stands:
A much-used trollop with a torch, whose flame
Has long since been extinguished. And her name?
"Mother of Cowards!" From her enervate hand
Soft ash descends. Her furtive eyes demand
Allegiance to her Pimp's repulsive game.
"Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!" cries she
With scarlet lips. "Give me your hale, your whole,
Your huddled tycoons, yearning to be pleased!
The wretched refuse of your toilet hole?
Oh, never send one unwashed child to me!
I await Trump's pleasure by the gilded bowl!"
***
Our president’s sex life—atrocious.
Asian markets are all hocus-pocus.
Politics—a shell game.
My brief moment of fame—
flashed by before Oprah could notice.
— Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”
***
Quite Con-trary
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"
Trumpy, Trumpy,
fat, balding and lumpy,
how does your Rose Garden grow?
“With venom and spleen
and everything mean,
and my gasket about to blow!”
Trumpy, Trumpy,
obese and dumpy,
why are your polls so low?
“I claimed I was Cyrus
at war with a virus
but lost every time to the minuscule foe!”
***
Teddy Roosevelt spoke softly and carried a big stick;
Donald Trump speaks loudly and carries a big shtick.
—Michael R. Burch
Our awful unlawful “president”
will soon be a jailhouse resident.
— Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”
Hell hath no Fury like our furry Führer.—Michael R. Burch
Thanks to politicians like George W. Bush, Sarah Palin, Michelle Bachmann and Donald Trump, we now have a duh-mock-racy.—Michael R. Burch
Poets must sometimes re-butt asses like Trump.—Michael R. Burch
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
It’s time to impeach
the peach imp.
—Michael R. Burch
***
Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch
To outfox the pox:
kill yourself first, with Clorox!
And since death’s the main goal,
mainline Lysol!
No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!
Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!
To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!
To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!
To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!
Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!
***
Rallying the Dupes
by Michael R. Burch
after Anaïs Vionet
Houston, we have a problem:
the virus is multiplying;
meanwhile, our Demander-in-Chief
keeps lying, lying, lying.
Houston, we have a problem:
the Astros are now the Nau(gh)ts,
but Tweety will still pack the ’Dome
untroubled by actual thoughts.
***
Donald Disgustus
by Michael R. Burch
It’ll be a cold day in hell
when I wish The Donald well:
was there ever a bigger liar
than President Pants-on-Fire?
***
Tea Party Madness
by Michael R. Burch
Since we agree,
let’s have a nice tea
with our bats in the belfry.
***
who, US?
by Michael R. Burch
jesus was born
a palestinian child
where there’s no Room
for the meek and the mild
... and in bethlehem still
to this day, lambs are born
to cries of “no Room!”
and Puritanical scorn ...
under Herod, Trump, Bibi
their fates are the same—
the slouching Beast mauls them
and WE have no shame:
“who’s to blame?”
***
dark matter(s)
by Michael R. Burch
for and after William Blake
the matter is dark, despairful, alarming:
ur Creator is hardly prince charming!
yes, ur “Great I Am”
created blake’s lamb
but He also created the tyger ...
and what about trump and rod steiger?
NOTE: Rod Steiger is best known for his portrayals of weirdos, oddballs, mobsters, bandits, serial killers, and fascists like Mussolini and Napoleon.
***
Donald Double Dactyl
by Michael R. Burch
Higgeldy Piggeldy
Ronald McDonald
cursed Donald Trump, his
least favorite clown:
"Why should I try to be
funny as Donald? He
gets all the laughs,
claiming upside is down!"
***
Burn
by Michael R. Burch
for Trump
Sunbathe,
ozone baby,
till your parched skin cracks
in the white-hot flash
of radiation.
Incantation
from your pale parched lips
shall not avail;
you made this hell.
Now burn.
This was one of my early poems, written around age 19. I dedicated the poem to Trump after he pulled the United States out of the Paris climate change accords.
***
Evil, the Rat
by Michael R. Burch
for Trump
Evil lives in a hole like a rat
and sleeps in its feces,
fearing the cat.
At night it furtively creeps
through the house
while the cat sleeps.
It eats old excrement and gnaws
on steaming dung,
and it will pause
between odd bites to sniff through the scat,
twitching and trembling,
for a scent of the cat ...
Evil, the rat.
***
There once was a senator, Cruz,
whose whole life was one pus-oozing schmooze.
When Trump called his wife ugly,
Cruz brown-nosed him smugly,
then went on a sweet Cancun cruise!
— Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”
There once was a senator, Cruz,
whose deployment was Castro’s bold ruse.
Now the revenge of Fidel
has worked out quite well
as Cruz missiles launch from his caboose.
—Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”
There was a Canadian, Cruz,
an anchor babe with a bold ruse:
he’d take Texas first
and then do his worst
to infect the whole world with his views.
—Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”
Predict the future? How, when tomorrow is as uncertain as Trump’s next tweet! — Michael R. Burch
Trump says he “loves” his supporters. How much does he “love” them? Apparently, to death, since he packs them together like sardines in the middle of a pandemic!—Michael R. Burch aka “the Loyal Opposition”
It’s time to impeach
the peach imp. (To time it
right and make it stick
is the trick.)
—Michael R. Burch
Trump’s suffering from shrinkinflation:
His reputation’s shot from what he did to his nation.
Now, because it began so wee small,
Today we can’t see it at all.
But as with an unflushed commode or
rank sewer, we can spot Trump by his odor.
—Michael R. Burch
Florida will not be woke.
DeSantis made it clear.
The world may well go up in smoke,
but Ron will snore, no fear.
For Florida will not be woke.
Conservatives will snooze
with blinders shutting out all light
and any factual news.
—Michael R. Burch
The LIV is LIVid:
livid with blood,
and full of egos larger
than continents.
—Michael R. Burch
Evil is as evil does.
Evil never needs a cause.
Evil loves amoral “laws,”
laughs and licks its blood-red claws
while kids are patched together with gauze.
—Michael R. Burch
Fake News, Probably
by Michael R. Burch
The elusive Orange-Tufted Fitz-Gibbon is the rarest of creatures—rarer by far than Sasquatch and the Abominable Snowman (although they are very similar in temperament and destructive capabilities). While the common gibbon is not all that uncommon, the orange-tufted genus has been found less frequently in the fossil record than hobbits and unicorns. The Fitz-Gibbon sub-genus is all the more remarkable because it apparently believes itself to be human, and royalty, no less! Now there are rumors—admittedly hard to believe—that an Orange-Tufted Fitz-Gibbon resides in the White House and has been spotted playing with the nuclear codes while chattering incessantly about attacking China, Mexico, Iran and North Korea. We find it very hard to credit such reports. Surely American voters would not elect an ape with self-destructive tendencies president!
Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch
***
Dark Shroud, Silver Lining
by Michael R. Burch
Trump cares so little for the silly pests
who rise to swarm his rallies that he jests:
“The silver lining of this dark corona
is that I’m not obliged to touch the fauna!”
***
Zip It
by Michael R. Burch
Trump pulled a cute stunt,
wore his pants back-to-front,
and now he’s the butt of bald jokes:
“Is he coming, or going?”
“Eeek! His diaper is showing!”
But it’s all much ado, says Snopes.
***
There once was a senator, Cruz,
whose whole life was one pus-oozing schmooze.
When Trump called his wife ugly,
Cruz brown-nosed him smugly,
then went on a sweet Cancun cruise.
—Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”
***
Mini-Ode to a Quickly Shrinking American Icon
by Michael R. Burch
Rudy, Rudy,
strange and colludy,
how does your pardon grow?
“With demons like hell’s
and progress like snails’
and criminals all in a row!”
***
Christmas is Coming
alternate lyrics by Michael R. Burch
Christmas is coming; Trump’s goose is getting plucked.
Please put the Ukraine in his pocketbook.
If you haven’t got the Ukraine, some bartered Kurds will do.
But if you’re short on blackmail, well, the yoke’s on you!
Christmas is coming and Rudy can’t make bail.
Please send LARGE donations, or the Cause may fail.
If you haven’t got a billion, five hundred mil will do.
But if you’re short on cash, the LASH will fall on you!
Mercedes Benz
by Michael R. Burch
I'd like to do a song of great social and political import. It goes like this:
Oh Donnie, won't you lend me your Mercedes Benz?
My friends screw in Porsches, I must make amends!
Like you, I f-cked my partners and now have no friends.
So, Donnie won't you sell me your Mercedes Benz?
Oh Donnie, won't you rent me your sexy import?
You need to pay your lawyers: a tart for a tort!
I’ll await her delivery each day until three.
And Donnie, please throw in Ivanka for free!
Oh, Donnie won't you buy me a night on the town?
I'm counting on you, Don, so don't let me down!
Oh, prove you're a playboy and bring them around.
Oh, Donnie won't you buy me a night on the town?
Oh Donnie, won't you lend me your Mercedes Benz?
My friends screw in Porsches, I must make amends!
Like you, I f-cked my partners and now have no friends.
So, Donnie won't you sell me your Mercedes Benz?
Ode to a Pismire
by Michael R. Burch
Drumpf is a sissy:
his hair’s in a Fritz.
Drumpf is a missy:
he won’t drink Schlitz.
Drumpf’s cobra-hissy
though he lives in the Ritz.
Drumpf is so pissy
his diaper’s the Shitz.
The Ballade of Large Marge Greene
by Michael R. Burch
Marge
is large
and in charge,
like a barge.
Yes, our Marge
is quite large,
like a hefty surcharge.
Like a sarge,
say LaFarge,
apt to over-enlarge
creating dissent before the final discharge.
Trump Limericks aka Slimericks
The Nazis now think things’re grand.
The KKK’s hirin’ a band.
Putin’s computin’
Less Ukrainian shootin’.
They’re hootin’ ’cause Trump’s win is planned.
—Michael R. Burch
Trump comes with a few grotesque catches:
He likes to grope unoffered snatches;
He loves to ICE kids;
His brain’s on the skids;
And then there’s the coups the fiend hatches.
—Michael R. Burch
Trump’s Saddest Tweet to Date
by Michael R. Burch
I’ve gotten all out of kilter.
My erstwhile yuge tool is a wilter!
I now sleep in bed.
Few hairs on my head.
Inhibitions? I now have no filter!
the best of all possible whirls, for MAGA
by Michael R. Burch
ive made a mistake or two.
okay, maybe quite *more* than a few:
mistakes by the millions,
the billions and zillions,
but remember: ur LORD made u!
where were u when HEE passed out brains?
or did u politely abstain?
u call GAUD “infallible”
when HEE made u so gullible
u cant come inside when Trump reigns.
My Sin-cere Endorsement of a Trump Cultist
by Michael R. Burch
If you choose to be an idiot, who can prevent you?
If you love to do evil, why then, by all means,
go serve the con who sent you!
Bird’s Eye View
Michael R. Burch
So many fantasical inventions,
but what are man’s intentions?
I don’t trust their scooty cars.
And what about their plans for Mars?
Their landfills’ high retentions?
The dodos they fail to mention?
I don’t trust Trump’s “clean coal” cars,
and what the hell are his plans for Mars?
Untitled
Don't disturb him in his inner sanctum
Or he’ll have another Trumper Tantrum.
—Michael R. Burch
It turns out the term was prophetic, since "conservatives" now serve a con. — Michael R. Burch
To live among you — ah! — as among vipers, coldblooded creatures not knowing right from wrong, adoring Trump, hissing and spitting venom.
Trump rhymes with chump
grump
frump
lifelong slump
illogical jump
garbage dump
sewage clump
sump pump
dry hump
cancerous lump
malignant bump
unpleasingly plump
slovenly schlump
yuge enormous diaper-clad rump
and someone we voters are going to thump and whump
—Michael R. Burch
Putin's Lootin's
by Michael R. Burch
They’re dropping like flies:
Putin’s “allies.”
Ah, but who gets their funny
money?
Two birds with one stone:
no dissent, buy a drone.
For tyrants the darkest day’s sunny!
Preempted
by Michael R. Burch
Friends, I admit that I’m often tempted
to say what I think about Trump,
but all such thought’s been preempted
by the sight of that Yuge Orange Rump!
Mate Check
by Michael R. Burch
*The editorial board of the Washington Post is “very worried that American women don’t want to marry Trump supporters.”*
Supporting Trump puts a crimp in dating
(not to mention mating).
So, horny dudes, if you’d like to bed
intelligent gals, and possibly wed,
it’s time to jettison that red MAGA cap
and tweet “farewell” to an orange sap.
Squid on the Skids
by Michael R. Burch
Sidney Powell howled in 2020:
“The Kraken will roar through the land of plenty!”
But she recalled the Terror in 2023
with a slippery, slimy, squid-like plea.
The Kraken Cracked
by Michael R. Burch
She’s singing like a canary.
Who says krakens are scary?
Squidney said the election was hacked,
but when all her lies were unpacked,
the crackpot kraken cracked.
Now, with a shrill, high-pitched squeal,
The kraken has cut a deal.
Oh, tell it with jubilation:
the kraken is on probation!
Trump’s Retribution Resolution
by Michael R. Burch
My New Year’s resolution?
I require your money and votes,
for *you* are *my* retribution.
May I offer you dark-skinned scapegoats
and bigger and deeper moats
as part of my sweet resolution?
Please consider a YUGE contribution,
a mountain of lovely C-notes,
for *you* are *my* retribution.
Revenge is our only solution,
since my critics are weasels and stoats.
Come, second my sweet resolution!
The New Year’s no time for dilution
of the anger of victimized GOATs,
when *you* are *my* retribution.
Forget the damned Constitution!
To dictators “ideals” are footnotes.
My New Year’s resolution?
*You* are *my* retribution.
Two Trump Truisms
by Michael R. Burch
When Trump’s the culprit everyone’s a “snitch.”
It ain’t a “witch hunt” when the perp’s a witch.
Horrid Porridge
by Michael R. Burch
*My apologies to porridge for this unfortunate association with an unwholesome human being.*
Why is Trump orange,
like porridge
(though not some we’re likely to forage)?
The gods of yore
knew long before
Trump was born, to a life of deplorage,
that his face must conform
to the uniform
he’d wear for his prison decorage!
Dictionary Definition of Trump
by Michael R. Burch
Trump is a chump;
he’s the freep of a frump;
he’s an orange-skinned Grinch and, much worse, he’s a Grump!;
he’s a creep; he’s a Sheik (sans harem); a skunk!;
“Kill the veep!” he’s a murderous coup d’tot-er in a slump;
“Drain the swamps, then refill them with my crocodilian donors!”;
Trump is a rapist with insufficient boners;
Trump is, as he predicted, a constitutional crisis;
Trump is our non-so-sweet American vanilla ISIS;
Trump is a thief who will bring the world to grief;
Trump is a whiner and our Pleader-in-Chief.
Triple Trump
by Michael R. Burch
No one ever trumped a Trump like Trump.
He turned Mar-a-Lago into a dump
and spewed filth at the stump
like a sump pump
while looking like a moulting Orange Hefalump!
Trump made the Grinch seem like just another Grump
by giving darker Whos a “get lost” lump.
No colored child was spared from his Neanderthalic thump.
Trump gave fascists a fist-bump,
consulted Nazi servers for an info-dump
and invited Russian agents for a late-night hump.
Don the Con con-sidered laws a speed bump,
fired anyone who ever tried to be an ump,
and gave every evil known to man a quantum jump.
You may think he’s just plump
and a chump,
with the style of a frump,
the posture of a shlump,
his brain in a slump,
and perhaps too inclined for a porn-star hump,
while being deprived by his parents of a necessary whump ...
but when it comes to political asses, Trump is the rump!
#TRUMP #DONTHECON #MRBTRUMP #MRBDONTHECON #MRBPOEMS
Keywords/Tags: light verse, nonsense verse, doggerel, limerick, humor, humorous verse, light poetry, bawdy, salacious, ribald, risque, naughty, racy, spicy, adult, nature, politics, religion, science, relationships
Keywords/Tags: Trump, Donald Trump, poems, epigrams, quotes, quotations, Rudy Giuliani, Ted Cruz, Cancun, Christmas, evil, democracy, coup, treason, treasonous
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