The Fed Means Red

- as in: deficit, bankruptcy, blood, war

Written 25 June 2011 - (92 lines)

*

Whether he laughed or only smiled
The vital cornerstone was laid
When the original Rothschild
Mayer Amschel Bauer, said:

"If I control the currency
I do not care who makes the laws"
Consider that with urgency
You may need a thinking pause

*

The Fed is powerful and strong
And sets the nation's interest rates
But, did you know, does not belong
To any of the United States!

Almost one hundred years ago
A horrible conspiracy
Was planned when bankers keeping low
Profiles met in secrecy

They cleverly devised a scheme
And persuaded a nasty man
To lead a rather ruthless team
In carrying out the evil plan

Passed, in order not to rouse
Suspicions, in subtle ways
By an almost empty House
During Christmas holidays!

So much for the season of goodwill
Oaths of office and the Holy Ghost!
Pure treason, echoing still
From Capitol Hill and coast to coast

*

Why is there no money left
In America today?
Could it possibly be theft
All across the USA?

Is it due to lack of thrift
By the ordinary folk?
Or is simple careless drift
The reason Uncle Sam is broke?

Valid questions, most agree
Any sensible reply?
Difficult - but honestly
This is truly do or die

For all the bad news that scares
Is not only Interesting
Overall The State of Affairs
Looks more than just alarming

Bankruptcy approaching fast
Robbing Peter to pay Paul!
How much longer can it last?
A superpower about to fall!

The rich get richer while the poor
Get little or no help at all
How much more can they endure
Before we hear the clarion call?

Increasingly it is "them" and "us"
All is certainly not well
Losing jobs and homes plus
Billions more for Israel

Many now have had enough
And demand a better deal
The road ahead indeed looks rough
It is time to get real!

Time to take your nation back
From Wall Street and The Fed
The President may well be black
But everyone else is in the red

Except of course for the elite
The top one-and-a-half percent
Who never stroll down Main Street
Their time is profitably spent!

Stare the nation in the face -
It just might make them see the light!
Any guilt? Not a trace!
How can the wealthy sleep at night?

While record debt and deficit
Grind the common people down
Who can see the end of it?
Those who can are leaving town

Some have nowhere left to go
But soup kitchens and rubbish dumps
A cruel and agonising show
Like war veterans on their stumps...

They gave so much - but for what
Was their blood, sweat, tears and toil?
The essence of the ghastly plot:
Israel, the rich, and oil!

Cuts and threats to Medicare
Will anybody hear you shout?
For many millions much despair
So before the middle class dies out -

Occupy the Treasury!
You Americans do deserve
Better than this treachery:
Close The Federal Reserve!

*
Copyright © 2011 - IBRAHEEM (O.E.H.Johansen) - All Rights Reserved

Balloonatics

- there must be a limit to hyper-inflation...

Written mid June 2011 - (210 lines)

*

NOTE:
Balloonatics is not a proper word but made up from
balloon + lunatics, and the reader will soon see why.

*

The balloon has reached its bursting point
Thanks to persistent strenuous joint
Efforts by those responsible
For design and manufacture, who managed to sell
It to an unsuspecting world
That cheered and clapped as the product unfurled
Admiring the fine translucent skin
It believed there must be real magic within

Apparently tethered but surely bound
To break away SOON from The Fairground
The eager customers fight to get near
To watch the ever-expanding sphere
Covered in gaudy designs (not to rouse
Any suspicions) look: Mickey Mouse
Madonna, Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga
The White House, McDonalds, Coca Cola
Fox News and CNN
Pat Robertson and Benny Hinn
Playboy, Hollywood, MTV -
Something for everybody except me!

Driving limits to spectacular heights
Of pure folly and fantasy sights
Not even by the widest stretch
Of imagination can anyone fetch
It back to where it started from
Continuously new wonders come
Pumping day and night to test
Which deception works the best

Wake up NOW! It is a horrible trap!
Look right through all the plastic crap
And you can SEE there is nothing there
But empty promises and lots of hot air
Pushing the fragile envelope -
How long can the material cope?

Any day now the bubble might burst
When it does, remember: you read it here first!

And when The New World Order gang
Rips it with an almighty bang
Exposing the meaning of the term
Pop culture, too late to confirm
Or pretend that you knew all along
That every silly dance and song
Were just a superficial show
For then it will be time to go
To kneel before those taking charge
The shadows already looming large
Of The Pyromaniacs muttering spells
That every Goy must comply - or else...

A grim prospect - so what to do?
My free firm friendly advice to you:

Before the system eats you whole
Self-sufficiency should be the goal
And if you cannot reach that state
No need to panic but do not wait
Start right now to plan and prepare
How to protect your rightful share

Think of every contingency
From any man-made emergency
Like illegal barbaric wars
To settle artificial scores
Fabricated on packs of lies
And whenever another innocent dies
Moloch the monster will howl and laugh
But not for himself, no, on behalf
Of his successor YAHWEH, as clear
From The Law of Moses, but most will not hear -

To natural disasters of every kind
Examples are easy enough to find:
Volcanic eruptions and severe earthquakes
Destroying in seconds what it takes
Hard-working humans generations to build
Leaving behind the bereaved and killed
Or perhaps a tsunami or sudden flash flood
More an act of the Devil than God
Possibly triggered in mysterious ways
By the HAARP only Satan plays
Tunes of pure evil resonate
Unleashing dark powers that devastate
Reported to the world as natural
But quite likely truly diabolical

Open this door if you dare to delve
Deeper into Two Thousand and Twelve

Soundly asleep many still say:
"So what if something happens some day!
It might hit us but might as well miss!"
True, my friends, but consider this:
If it never happens - what have you lost?
Do nothing - and rue forever the cost!
But all the signs are that it will
Come to pass, only when is debated still...

*

Bankers are doing their best to hide
Facts that prove the current worldwide
Financial crisis is no accident
But caused by them and clearly meant
To speed up the day when they rule alone
And the following should be much better known:

September eleven, a familiar date
And that very day BUT two thousand and eight
Enormous movements of funds were seen
Suddenly, and strangely between
Nine and eleven local time
A carefully planned cyber crime
Eight hundred billion dollars left
The US economy - yet this was not theft
But in essence a brutal attempt to kill
Force the system to a standstill
Close the world's largest economy down
One hour to twelve in New York town
There were certain deadlines to meet
By those manipulating Wall Street
And somebody out to make a mint
Dropped a sinister cryptic hint...

*

You may think you have all you need
For a secure future, indeed
Many believe they have well in excess
But tomorrow we might all be penniless
If that is the day The Elders decide
Is the most likely to provide
The desired result as discussed and planned
Masterminded by them but manned
By traitors who work for the Zionist crook
They should all be brought to book
Not tomorrow but today RIGHT NOW
And we would love to show you how!

We are daily told that we
Should be grateful we are free
For democracy is a wonderful thing
And it will undoubtedly bring
Joy and bliss to those poor souls
Prevented from going to the polls
By nasty men who rule by force
Something the West would NEVER endorse
So tries to export the antidote
Hallelujah! One person one vote
And everybody will prosper then
With happy smiling faces again!

Whilst maybe true in principle
The story does not go down too well
For some of us are not easily fooled
So see the gulf between rulers and ruled
And the disconnect is just as great
Here in the West as in any state
Labelled an evil dictatorship
By slick politicians who always trip
Over themselves so not to waste
A moment in their unseemly haste
To please their unseen Masters who
Tell them what to say and do

Yes I know, of course we hold
Elections, but votes are bought and sold
Most succumb to the highest bid
Show me one who never did!
Admittedly, some do stay clean
But they are few and far between

And probe the results thoroughly:
Are all elected properly?
A certain American president
Who still today does not repent
Terrorised the world, spreading fears
Destruction and death for eight long years
Despite the fact that he did not win
The first election! Fraud, lies and spin!

*

On the day it matters most
Stay away from beach and coast...
Forcing the question: when will that be?
Do not expect the answer from me
For I do not know any better than you
But there are things we all can do:

Few survivors will be found
Anywhere inside The Fairground
So turn your back to that balloon
For it will surely disintegrate soon
And if you care about your face
Move away at a steady pace
Though this may not be a nuclear bomb
Prepare for a major surprise to come
Out of the blue and suddenly
So spend your time now usefully
Make a determined effort to rely
More on yourself and close friends, try
To take the best from "the good old days"
Ignoring most, but not all, modern ways
Make the first move to get to know
Your neighbours for one day might well show
That they are your first line of defense
As you are theirs - does it make sense?

In your own interest, avoid the banks
For the money machine that constantly cranks
Out more worthless paper bills
Works only for them, and the cause of most ills
Is not money itself but the men in control
Whose undeclared but obvious goal
Is to make slaves of everyone -
Stop playing their game and it cannot be done!
Overly simplistic? No, not at all
For without support anything will fall

Any more advice I can give to you?
Oh yes, listen: whatever you do
Do not expect anything from the state
For that could become a very long wait
Standing there hungry, holding out your hand
No, much better to go back to the land
And you shall harvest what you have sown
Yourself, when you learn to grow your own
Though maybe not entirely self-sufficient
At least no longer totally dependent
And that means your progress is already such
You may choose to keep working or can lean back and watch
From a safe distance the last few tricks
Of those arrogant belligerent Balloonatics

*

Copyright © 2011 - IBRAHEEM (O.E.H.Johansen) - All Rights Reserved

Ireland Recolonised

- this time by international bankers

Written 1-2 January 2011 - (230 lines)

Dedicated to beautiful Ireland and its wonderful people

*

NOTE:
The ECB mentioned is the European Central Bank, a part of the EU.
GDP stands for Gross Domestic Product and is defined as the value
of all goods made in and services by a given country in a given year.

*

Ireland was not only colonised
But brutalised and terrorised
By England for so many years
That from a distance it appears
Those times were nothing but misery
For the captive locals unable to flee
The sheer greed and mismanagement
Of the mainly absentee government

The cold cruel colonial hand
Had cleared the locals from their own land
Now desperate for work they had to enlist
And slave for their masters to barely subsist

In the eighteen-forties the potato blight
Swept across Europe, a desolate sight
But what is important to understand
Disaster struck only in Ireland
Surely not a coincidence
For everywhere else, using common sense
It was managed without causing major harm
But in Ireland nobody raised the alarm

And while the Irish starved and died
Colonial mansions and stomachs relied
On Irish cattle and corn being shipped
To England as the locals were gripped
By malnutrition and disease
Young Queen Victoria did nothing to ease
The terrible plight, though well aware
Of the situation but she did not care
Instead left it heartlessly to rot
Like the potatoes - England forgot
All its responsibilities
Probably hoping the Irish would cease
To exist, so creating more space
For the British Imperial master race

One million perished and more than one
Million emigrated, forever gone

The ones who could afford the trip
Left Ireland on the next coffin ship
And money was not all they had to pay
For one in three died on the way
Fleeing the unbearable misery
Seeking any life across the sea:
The United States and Canada
The incredible distance to Australia
Scotland and detested England too
Anywhere but Ireland would have to do...

Ethnic cleansing and slow genocide
A lethal combination that time cannot hide
And England, the UK, Britain cannot blame
Anybody else: you have earned your shame

(If you think all this stopped with the British decline
It is happening today in Palestine...)

*

Many years later, at the end of twenty-ten
Disaster struck unsuspecting Ireland again:
The PM kept insisting, even as the squad
From the ECB boarded a plane abroad
For the flight to Dublin, that the nation did not need
Any help from anyone, not at all, indeed
Ireland was safe and sound in every way
Well funded and certainly able to pay
Well-managed with everything responsibly done -
Integrity and honesty anyone?

The money-men arrived and the rest is history:
Ireland is no longer sovereign territory

Mortgaged now for years to international banks
Done without machine guns, bombs and tanks
And probably without any apology -
Now we know the meaning of stealth technology...

It did not matter how much the PM squealed
For Ireland's fate was already signed and sealed
Having been debated and decided expertly
Of course behind closed doors top-secretly
And the stark truth is: all that did remain
Was to deliver the message - in the rain

Now some of the Irish banks are being sold
To foreign interests who improve their stranglehold
Others are nationalised and bailed out
Who will have to pay for this is not in any doubt
Calling all good Irish now: your country needs YOU!
Sorry, but there is a huge and urgent task to do
For you and your children, perhaps for ever more
And some still ask the question: what are citizens for?

Meanwhile, some faceless and nameless men
"More than two but fewer than ten"
Will go through the budget line by line
Approve or reject or maybe levy a fine

Unelected Euro-bureaucrats
Revoking what elected democrats
Had decided to implement on behalf
Of their own electorate - the golden calf
Lies shattered on the broken dance floor now
As the wild Irish reel turns into a row...

We do our best but cannot escape
The horrible suspicion taking shape:
Defeating free nations through the open back door -
Is that what the Euro was created for?

*

All those who wanted to get in on the act
Listened to a lie paraded as fact
Preached like a prophecy throughout the land
The message was easy to understand
Seductively packaged and the marketing slick:

"What YOU need to do to get rich quick
And salvage your declining credit rate
You simply must invest in real estate!

So your ensla.. enjoyment can begin
No down payment needed, just move in
Of course you can borrow one hundred percent
Much better to own than pay somebody rent
For the first thing you must realise
Property prices will continue to rise
Appreciated vastly when you choose to sell
Just think of the profit and all shall be well!
The fools decided to emigrate
Convinced that Ireland would always be late
But YOU, the smart ones, stayed and survived
Now reap the rewards for good times have arrived
Ireland has finally come alive
You will all be millionaires at thirty-five!"

Listen to this everybody: it transpired
That for example one county required
Six hundred new houses in order to keep pace
With the numbers of people moving to that place
So the prudent would build perhaps a few more
Say maybe an extra ten percent, or
Possibly up to twenty, to be on the safe side
So nobody who came to buy would be denied
But NO, they built three thousand instead
And do not comprehend why the market is dead...

Over-capacity is far too polite
Staggering short-sighted greed gets it right

In a EUphoric shopping spree
Many people bought two or three
Thinking the market could only expand
Incredibly failing to understand
Completely obsessed with their selfish task
One obvious question they forgot to ask:
Where would all the occupants be coming from?
Clearly the locals could fill only some
Of the many new dwellings being busily built
Yet most mortgaged themselves to the hilt

Whilst true that we all need somewhere to stay
Small wonder most are still empty today
As row upon row of new houses wait and wait
Welcome to another ghost estate...

For anyone needing additional proof
Real estate prices, once going through the roof
Are crashing and tumbling, going down-down-down
Throughout the country in city and town
In many places already reduced by half -
Maybe we should cry but we try not to laugh

The party is over, there are headaches all around
But no time to reflect if a solution can be found
For the bad news is: there is a massive bill
Many worry nervously if they ever will
Be able to get out of the terrible mess
Their greed got them into, will anyone address
Their problems at all, and if so: when and how?
My Jesus! Holy Mary! What do we do now?

Some wonder aloud if there is any cure
Or does God really want the Irish to stay poor?
And if He does was this a lesson from Him
To teach Irish Christians that their progress has been slim?
Must do better, the message seems to be
But how to recover? Rather you than me...

The game has come full circle and in cruel irony
Young men with degrees from university
Accepting that prospects at home are bleak
Now work in England during the week
On building sites in London, like their grandfathers before
To keep the financial wolves from the door
Not really knowing which way to turn
Enslaved once more - when will you ever learn?

Now, like Palestinians building for Israel
The enemy has succeeded and must be well
Pleased with himself so rubs his hands in glee:
You tried but failed miserably in your quest to be free!

In truth all for the benefit of Rothschild and his friends
In the City of London - is where it starts and ends

*

Severely disturbing the apparent peace
The first of the dominoes to drop was Greece
Next was Ireland, the Emerald Isle
Where sun-filled raindrops make leprechauns smile
And who do YOU think is next in the queue?
Well, even without a scientific review
And getting overly mathematical
The most likely candidate is Portugal
And if anything here can be called good news
Portugal may still just have time to choose
Between bondage and the devil it knows
Before the red alert alarm bell goes

Though it may not be crystal clear
We do see a pattern emerging here
For what is common to the above three
Is that they are all relatively
Small and with low populations, so are
Easier to rescue and bail out by far
Than any larger economy would be
A simple function of GDP

In the present cycle of busts and booms
A much bigger problem already looms
For balanced precariously between loss and gain
Please will you welcome sunny Spain

Ninth in the world, fifth in the EU
The Spanish economy is ready to do
Serious damage because of its size
Any major rescue plan would jeopardise
European integration as a whole
And Spain would probably not relish the role
Of starting a new and unpopular trend:
Forcing financial cohesion to end
Maybe bring down the Euro too
Conceivably even the entire EU...

EUphemistically speaking, it does not look good
If nothing else, that is generally understood

May this be a warning to all freedom loving souls
Revise, read: reduce, your material goals
Do not trust anything your politicians say
For when they are gone you will still have to pay
For all their easy promises and clever lies -
Deceiving the voter is an art that never dies

*

Ireland recolonised through monetary might
Hard-won independence abandoned without a fight
A nation taken over without a single shot
Is it all part of The New World Order plot?

Not exactly in clover but if we disregard
All the problems for a moment, if you look hard
Who knows you might just suddenly pluck
A four-leaf clover with a bit of luck
Should the leaves be tiny and fragile, call
On the luck of the Irish - you may well need it all...

*

Copyright © 2010 - IBRAHEEM (O.E.H.Johansen) - All Rights Reserved

Interesting

- as in usurious

Written mid July 2009 - (176 lines)

*

Suppose you chose to invest
One hundred Euros today
At seven percent interest
Compounded along the way -

For a two hundred and fifty year term
(The prudent plans ahead!)
And some heir may be there to confirm
The result when you are long dead

Already doubled after just ten years
It never fails to impress
Sweet music to most people's ears
You are on the road to success
[precisely 196.72]

After one hundred years you have arrived
Eightyseven thousand now!
Your small investment grew and thrived
And how! Hallelujah! Wow!
[precisely 86,771.63]

Now then, how much do you think
The final account would show?
The answer will make you more than blink
Ae you sure you want to know?

Hold on to something really strong
Are you sitting comfortably?
The figure, unless my maths are wrong
Is, incredibly:

Two and a quarter BILLION, yes
I know it is hard to believe
It is not an uneducated guess
But the sum you would receive
[precisely 2,217,912,564.99]

Absolutely ridiculous!
How obscene can you get?
And when you claim it, delirious
Can the demand be met?

Now look at it the other way
Turn it all around
And surely it must finally sway
Anyone of sound -

And sober judgment to realise
Just how diabolical
The concept is, seen with reasonable eyes
It is simply criminal

Let us assume you borrowed the same
Hundred mentioned before
From a friendly money-lender who came
Obligingly to your door

And your once innocent little loan
Would soon reduce you to fear
As the interest owed would have massively grown
For that is the whole idea

You can use your own figures, do your own test
But you would probably pay
Instalments on accrued interest
Forever and a day -

Without the initial borrowed sum
Itself being returned
And unable to back out the way you have come
Your bridges have been burned

Tempting people to borrow is foul
And addictive like heroin
Decent people will raise a howl
Of protest across the scene

For surely the message is not lost
And the lesson it should teach:
Avoid usury at any cost
It is like a blood-sucking leech

Robbing Peter to pay Paul
Is a primitive way to live
Like a continuous drunken brawl
And something has to give

With the system completely hollowed out
How long can it survive?
Beyond any reasonable doubt
It is eating itself alive

Imposing it may still look and act
But in truth an empty shell
That is an uncontested fact
To those who observe it well

How to recover from the brink?
Anything left to retrieve?
The answer is not what the "experts" think
Or want us to believe

For we do not need more but less
Paper money, so
Speeding up the printing press
Is not the way to go

As soon as possible, everything made
Anything bought and sold
Local skills, international trade
Should be priced in gold -

Or other selected metals maybe
Anything precious and rare
For as anyone can surely see
Paper is everywhere

And it is worthless in real terms
Indeed it may easily burn
Succumb to rot or be eaten by worms -
Will we ever learn?

The figures printed on each note
And embossed on every coin
Are just that, and the lofty quote
Seen frequently to join -

For that convincing authentic look
That appears almost benign
Impresses by the time they took
On the overall design

The gold meanwhile secured in the vaults
Of those who hold the keys
The system has as many faults
As banks have different fees!

And they have secrets of all sorts
Now here is another catch:
How can we trust official reports
That gold and paper match?

The way the world is currently run
Simply cannot last
And a return to how things were done
In the not too distant past -

Should be a high priority
Maybe top of the list
Or a functioning society
May cease to exist

The worldwide mad scrambling raid
Is more or less on hold
Has it peaked already, will it now fade
And eventually fold?

As global instability grows
Quite likely perhaps
The deepening economic woes
Mean imminent collapse

As the money-go-round is turning cold
A heavy price will be paid
Yet there will be, so I am told
Huge profits to be made

For over The Fairground preside
Immaculately dressed thugs
Who when profitable may decide
To simply pull the plugs

Maybe they will do it soon
Maybe they will wait
When Rothschild whistles the secret tune
They will not hesitate

Papering over the widening cracks
In their miserable golden calf
The ogres and the leading packs
Of The New World Order laugh -

As "useless eaters" are thrown to the wolves
And devoured mercilessly
To the controllers it all revolves
Around insolvency

Enriching the rich, there is no doubt
That the concept of usury
For nations and people already without
Leads them to penury

And when the system is about to break
And the poor stumble and fall
Claiming every vital stake
The winners take it all

Those who already have far too much
Will grab even more
Bringing them further out of touch
Than ever before

Usury is evil, no less
But was not invented by Jews
Though where and when I cannot guess -
However there is good news:

ISLAM is not usurious
Yet interesting to explore -
Has this made you curious
Enough to find out more?

Muslims do things differently
Read, listen and see
Study their methods diligently
And you may well agree -

That in this as in so many other aspects
Of life, if you started today
Soon you would feel the positive effects
Of the Islamic way!

*

Copyright © 2009 - IBRAHEEM (O.E.H.Johansen) - All Rights Reserved

The Fairground

- the current global financial crisis

Written late November 2008 - (275 lines)

*

As another debtor walks the plank
The creditor laughs all the way to the bank
Only to find there is nothing there -
Has anyone got a Euro to spare?

*

In a setting of pure serenity
Located by the deep blue sea
The Fairground is a tempting sight
And open for business day and night
To most it is irresistible
Overpowering man's free will
To seek that which is good for him
Instead indulge your every whim
Dark desires or frivolity
Time-wasting a speciality
The purpose of the elaborate show
To empty your pockets before you go

The amusement arcade has a power to pull
That is simply amazing, it is always full
One-armed bandits living up to their name
Yet the victims can afford another game
Hoping tonight will be their turn to win
As they watch the wheel's dying spin
Rounding off a session of synthetic thrills
With a win to offset against mounting bills

You simply must try the pie in the sky
Like the other dishes it is naturally high
In trans-national cooking oils
The medium which the Fairground boils
Everything in, and down to in the end -
Now see how much you can afford to spend
But have no fear, just have your fill
For that is the overall corporate will
Swill it down with a toxic drink
The secret ingredient is the vital link
Which over time will lead to success
For the Fairground management, unless
Vigilant citizens with nerves of steel
Throw a very big spanner in the wobbling wheel

Days on end and all through the nights
Programmed laser disco lights
Flash and swirl and fade and blink
To make sure you do not think
Not for one moment left alone
The Fairground has ways to make you its own

Horrible noises, recorded in hell
Then boosted to three hundred decibel
Attack the senses, violate the brain
The volunteer victims visibly strain
To remain upright as they stagger about
After what they would call a good night out

Sinister products of every kind
To slowly poison your rational mind
Genetically modify you if they can
All part of their evil master plan
If only you knew the long-term goal
Is the conquest of your very soul

Are you in the mood for the truly strange
You should pay a visit to the shooting range
It was refurbished recently
To reflect the new ideology
Now every target has a brown face
Which would not look terribly out of place
In the Arab world or in Muslim lands
Their threatening looks and greedy hands
Need no explanation, so the sign today:
"Have fun, grab a gun - just blow them away!"

Celebrating their latest scoop
Investors are recklessly looping the loop
On the seafront high-tech water slide
Now overwhelmed by the incoming tide
Tubular waves rising in foam
Trapping daytrippers who wish they were home

As bankers crowd the mirror hall
The money changer packs his stall
And, leaving in a hurry, wistfully says:
"The same real money spent many different ways?
The roof will soon cave in I fear
The party is over, I am getting out of here!"

On centre stage is a puppet show
Exploring in depth how low you can go
As the Fairground management proudly presents:
"The Auction to Buy the Next President"
Obscene amounts donated or pledged
The bottom of the corporate pork barrel dredged
The Zionist lobby, to everybody's loss
Making clear to all it will remain the boss

All outbidding each other without shame
Democracy reduced to a numbers game
In a billion dollar auction, and all to ensure
That the current sad State of Affairs will endure
For at least another few wasted years
While the world is collapsing around our ears

The show performed without a glitch
Their man made to jump and twitch
As his handlers deftly pull the strings
And mysteriously all the right things
That over generations we have come to expect
Fall from the lips of the president-elect
Expressing himself eloquently
The audience claps enthusiastically:

"In order to get to where I am today
I had to follow the proven way
Many times over I sold my soul
To drag you all with me down the deepening hole
If you do not believe me, feel free to peruse
My suitcase bursting with IOUs
As I travel to the Castle now to represent
The Fairground as your next president
There might be a slightly different style
Served with an almost human smile
But remember, I was bought to deceive
So expect little change and less to believe
And where we are heading is anybody's guess
But thanks for your votes, good night and God bless!"

Now if justice ruled, all the money spent
On this farcical pantomime would be sent
To the people who are hungry as a direct result
Of the Fairground's obsession with the president cult

*

The Fairy Castle
(All part and parcel
Of the plastic dream
Sold by the team
Of specialist crooks
With film star looks)
Appearing so strong
Admired so long
Towering tall
Is about to fall
On fire now
Describe somehow
From a safe trench
The awful stench
Of toxic fumes
Watch the plumes
Of acrid smoke
About to choke
Poor Cinderella
Who has lost her umbrella
And Alice in Wonderland
Unable to understand
What exactly went wrong
Now calls up a song
The latest obscenity
By Madonna and company
For the binge must go on
Through the night but dawn
Will show us with pride
Letting nobody hide
The State of Affairs
And if nobody cares
We should not be surprised
For disliked and despised
Is the end result
Of decades of insult
Injustice and death
Spread by the breath
Of the dragon which raves
Deep in the caves
Directly below
Where most of us go
Every single day -
How long will YOU stay?

*

Given the sad fact that it steals
The energy to keep the wheels
Turning, nobody would think
The greatest show on earth could sink
Daily deeper into debt
Yet that is the message we get
Seemingly impossible -
Ah! But where there is a will...

Convinced the whole world was their toy
The imbecile slogan was: "Enjoy!"
Until the day cold realities
Caught up with their festivities

So many so suddenly unemployed
Long cherished illusions all but destroyed
Their cosy world of make believe
Rudely shaken, will anyone receive
Any compensation from the management?
Do not expect much from the government!

Convenient relationships are breaking up
Where only yesterday the overflowing cup
Of intoxicating profits passed around
Now, if any excuse can be found
They shout at each other: "It is all your fault!"
As the money-go-round grinds to a halt

And now work out your financial loss
As you nibble some purple candy floss

We do not know exactly when
They file for bankruptcy, but then
Keeping the cards close to their chest
Serves their commercial interest

A house of cards built on sand
Every card a joker and
You hear them laughing as they fall
Politicians creep and crawl
Through the debris looking for
Their pack of lies which opened the door
To enter the magic house of tricks
False promises and cheap gimmicks
Blah-blah here and applause over there
Everybody out for number one everywhere

*

Could any early signs have been found
By observing the huge merry-go-round
Closely and in sufficient detail
To spot the component about to fail?
Maybe someone did and chose not to speak
But pulled the plug silently to leak
The message to everybody at the same time
At first the news trickled through the slime
Of financial quarters around the globe
By now we all see that the glorious robe
Of the emperor was a fairytale
As he stands there before us cold and pale
Shivering in his nightshirt in the rain -
Will anyone ever believe him again?

All kinds of experts are scrambling now
Each clamouring to be heard, for somehow
His solution is the very best
And in our collective interest
So should be implemented soon
Before the Fairground becomes a lagoon
They believe there is time enough to fix
If only through more temporary tricks
Maybe debt relief or interest rate hikes
To plug the levees and shore up the dikes

The foundation is hollow and mainly consists
Of funds lent and borrowed on interest
Not money as known to you and me
But guessing what a market value might be
Some years from now, how much it inflates
Juggling fictitious interest rates
And usually before the sums are lent
They are already allocated and spent
Poor risk assessment of long-term loans
Small wonder the entire structure groans
Straining under the impossible load -
Is the Fairground reaching the end of the road?

The gaudy lights flicker and go out
One by one, can there be much doubt
From all that we see and hear and know
We are approaching the end of the show?

Is there truly anybody left in the black?
And is there an orderly way back
To honesty and sincerity
Real value and security
Leading to stability
And predictability?

*

Poor Father Christmas, caught by surprise
Can hardly believe his wise old eyes
Sweeping in to deliver the gifts
At the very last moment he abruptly shifts
His course as he decides to steer
The sledge and the faithful reindeer
Away from the Fairground, and as they all stare
And wonder aloud among themselves where
The next stage of his journey might go
They hear him chuckling: "Ho-Ho-Ho!"
And whatever that means, one thing is clear -
There will be no Christmas presents this year!

*

The news is hitting every town
The water slide users about to drown
Every well-known Fairground clown
Reduced to tears or at least a frown
The King has lost his golden crown
The Fairy Queen her silver gown
For the merry-go-round is slowing down

And the sooner the better if you ask me
To be replaced immediately
By a system of justice and decency
Founded on spirituality

*

And what is a Euro worth anyway?
It may well have a certain value today
But compared with what? I am told
To play safe we should all go for gold!

*

Copyright © 2008 - IBRAHEEM (O.E.H.Johansen) - All Rights Reserved