Surprisingly, a late-night missive has mysteriously arrived from the desk of the elusive Mr. A. Cat concerning the lamentable state of our nation:
Dunuld Trumper went to town
just to tear the country down
fraud and lies
Russian spies
and a Mussolini frown.
(c) 2021 Mr. A. Cat
Shh-h-h! Someone is all tucked out with Politics...
So Good Night Everyone!
July 3, 2020: Well, it's been since October 2019 that the mysterious Mr. A. Cat sent a rhyming missive to my kitty cat Lim for me to type and post to Lim's Limericks but today the unthinkable has happened once again!
Yes, as you can imagine, I had quite given up hope that my typing ability would ever be required again but Mr. A., secreted underneath some far away veranda or perhaps a gazebo, has come through with his latest political musing which he assures Lim is best when sung to the very appropriate and venerable children's ditty, This Old Man. However, I very much doubt Mr. A. intended the following verse for children - unless someone wants some serious 'splainin' to do:
Donald Trump Donald Trump
If you're tired just grab a bump
With a knick knack paddy whack
You're an awful prez
Don't care what
The Good Book says.
~:~
Verse by Mr. A. Cat, Esq. 2020
Facilitated by Lim the Kitty Cat
Typed by Jude C. (because cats don't have thumbs and their spelling is simply atrocious)
Above photo: our much beloved Gracie Kitty
However, my cat Lim has alerted me that during the night, the infamous Mr. A. Cat managed to sneak a Trumpian message across enemy lines and wishes me to type it for you here even though the message may be in secret code for all I know!
Therefore, since some years ago I volunteered to take on the typist role for Lim and Mr A (because cats have no hands), I find myself compelled this day to post A Ballad for Donald Trump by Mr. A. Cat in all its glorious groan-worthiness:
Trump so full of derring-don'tfirst he will then he won't
such a handful always cross
thinks he is our boss
Chaos is his middle name
serving Putin be his game
may as well stay in his cave
'cos he won't behave.
by Mr. A. Cat, Esq., agent formerly in service to our nation
10.14.19
A note from the typist: do you know that the heroic phrase "derring-do" goes back centuries to Geoffrey Chaucer circa 1374??! Well, that's 645 years ago--and I just found out! jc
These days it's such a surprise for Lim and me when Mr. A. Cat, secret agent formerly in service to our nation, sends along a new political verse or limerick.
Yet this very thing has happened once again and makes clear that Mr. A. Cat (hidden incognito under a shady veranda somewhere in the heartland, I've heard) keeps up with current political events for today he writes and advises on...
The Troubles of TrumpThe vengeful spite of Donald Trump
doth land him in hot water
the spotlight on his flaws and crimes
much brighter than his daughter
For karma always comes to call
to reap what has been sown
no wonder crooked Trump's become
the worst prez we have known
a King Kong tyrant and a cad
his foibles do alarm
with tweets and insults daily tossed
and meant for others' harm
A cornered animal is he
the Kremlin's useful tool
resign before the sheriff knocks
you sad pathetic fool.
-Mr. A. Cat, Esq.
Typed by J. C. (because cats have no hands) August 23, 2018; all rights reserved; use but with mild caution and full attribution; Mr. A. Cat appreciates any and all Shares!
April 27, 2018: well what a surprise! Lim and I never expected to hear from Mr. A. Cat again it's been so long but earlier today we discovered a mysterious message in the form of a political rhyme stealthily scratched (during the night apparently) into Lim's litter box and signed by none other than Mr. A. Cat himself. This unusual discovery gave us both the vapors, I assure you!
Now I shall quote here the rhyme left by the (allegedly) retired secret feline agent formerly in service to our nation--but first a dire warning: if there be a reader who may be sensitive to cats writing political poetry that concerns occupants of the Oval Office, she or he is strongly advised to avert her or his gaze immediately and cast your eyes no further:
Liar with your pants on fireDonald Trump can rise no higher
won't be POTUS of the globe
rinky dinky germaphobe.
--signed, Mr. A. Cat
typist: jude cowell April 27, 2018; all rights reserved on behalf of Mr. A. Cat
Now here is a portrait of 'Puppy Dog Cinnamon's Cat' as drawn by Holden:
Blog Note: there are Odes to Donald Trump herein for those who care to Search for them!
Just when my room mate Lim and I thought that Mr. A. Cat had entirely given up sending us his groan-worthy political limericks, a mysterious email arrived concerning a White House now under siege by powerful establishment forces who take exception to the real estate mogul's rule.
Now is Mr. A Cat's odious effort an 'ode'? Who knows. Is it for or against Mr. Trump? Debatable! But see what you think, dear reader, for it's your call to share...or to ignore, as you wish!
When your lawyer gets a lawyer
and your rating's going down
with your tax returns elusive
people calling you a clown
even fake news cannot save you
though you tweet lies like a chump
better take a long vacation
for your name is Donald Trump.
~:~
author: Mr. A. Cat (c) 2017
typist: Jude Cowell
chef: Lim
Here's an odd fact: Mr. A has limericked a campaigning Mr. Trump in a previous post (with Trump's natal horoscope shown). Plus, there's even a Part Two. Rrraowwrrr!
Please tell me...Why does the Laughing Cat laugh?
image: Moon Shining Across a Lake; jude cowell art 2016+
Although An Astrologer's Ode to Donald Trump Part 1 remains available from earlier in Drumpf's campaign, a Part 2 had to be composed if only to rid myself of the nagging nuisance of creation.
Fortunately for both of us, the verse is brief, a benefit totally unlike Campaign 2016:
~Ode to Donald Trump Part 2~The horoscope of Donald Trump
now withers with him in a slump
yon fuzzy hair still neon bright
a lantern on a cold dark night
But if at end he pulls on through
he'll sniff at me
and insult you.
jc Oct 18, 2016 10:22 pm edt
Note: there exists an X-rated and quite odious version of this Ode but the poet isn't typing it. She isn't typing it. Besides, you can make up your own!
Update Oct 19, 2016 okay here is v2 of ~Ode to Donald Trump Part 2~ beginning with line 3, 'yon fuzzy hair...'
yon fuzzy hair still neon brightdon't cross him on a cold dark night
But if at end the dud pulls through
he'll sniff at me
and go for you.
copyright by author 2016+
And you know it's true. Parody, satire, ridicule, and such are often the best defense against scoundrels and sociopaths who call themselves politicians but who act in breach of the public contract regularly and purposely.
Right now it's 10:10 pm edt and at midnight the US Congress allows medical benefits for 9/11 First Responders to run out because they're too sorry to do the jobs we pay them to do. The extension would pass if it is brought up but they're declined to allow a vote so benefits will begin to dry up and by December doctors will be laid off.
Once again, congress members, Republicans in particular, are in breach of the public trust. And if America is nothing more than a corporation We the People should demand that politicians keep their side of the contract with the American people.
Jon Stewart has been spotlighting this issue for quite a while:
This political post has been ok'd by Lim because my feline roommate is enraged over his issue!
Perhaps you've heard that real estate mogul Donald Trump is running for president of the United States for 2016 and I am happy to announce that Lim and I have finally heard again from Mr. A. Cat and have collaborated with him to create an ode concerning Mr. Trump's 2016 prez bid as seen through the candidate's natal horoscope which is pictured here:
If you wish, check out details concerning his chart and personality by visiting my Political Astrology site Stars Over Washington.
And though Mr. Trump's popularity seems to be somewhat waning of late, and assuming you are familiar with astrological principles, here is our Ode to Donald Trump which asserts a familiar life lesson that we are what we are:
The horoscope of Donald Trump
doth follow him while on the stump
his Merc in Cancer aces deals
and tells us how he really feels
Bombastic to an nth degree
he's royal in his panoply
as Mars and Regulus arise
determined on the greatest prize
Huge Jupiter stood-still must care
with Libra's constant "they're not fair!"
a quarreling nature battling hard
he soon shall play his last Trump card.
meowed by Mr. A. Cat, Jude Cowell, and Lim (c) 2015 all rights reserved but feel free to Share with attribution!
By now you have deduced that Mr. A. Cat is missing in action--M.I.A., as it were--and that Lim and I had all but given up expecting that a missive of verse or limerick would ever arrive. We had unhappily accustomed ourselves to abiding with no hope of a limerick nor even a soft meow from Mr. A.'s direction -- our favorite secret agent formerly in service to our nation, and a feline of many rare talents whose location continues to be unknown, even as I type.
Yet with this morning's light came an announcement from my feline companion Lim that a poem has appeared overnight next to the blue flower pot in the garden shed, a novel delivery method by Mr. A. to be sure but a welcome relief for Lim and yours truly, the typist around here since cats don't have fingers--although Lim is a pretty good speller, I freely admit. (His punctuation ability is quite another matter!)
And so without further ado I shall type Mr. A. Cat's new verses word for word as Lim found them stealthily scratched onto a piece of tree bark though not without some trepidation for Mr. A.'s mysterious inspiration for the rhyme's topic seems unusual even for him. I shall make no comment afterwards for having read them, I really don't know what to say. Still, do peruse Mr. A. Cat's Six Degrees if you dare but please allow the typist's expression of some trepidation to serve as your warning and guide--and...be not heedless:
Mr. A. Cat's Verses of the Six Degrees
In Kevin Bacon's Six Degreesthere nestles Tudor's tale
a royal son exalted high
was then tossed into gaol
A Bard and poet prophet herenowned both far and near
fate's new atlantis his ideal
bequeaths a haunting fear
Such hallowed halls of Science trodold Francis and his staff
genetics our cruel master now
enjoys his mocking laugh
As followers expand the dreamwith solitary eye
in pagan hearts a beast to roar
all decency defy
That hidden plan becomes more clearas plainly can be seen
from chaos order is employed
by head of state and Queen
In modern times the game descendsto liars crooks and knaves
who conscience-free purport to be
footloose to dance on graves.
(c)2015+ all rights reserved
Above image: Topaz as 'Mr. A. Cat' teaches young Lim (Wiley) how to break into a desk leaving no paw prints.
