Wednesday, May 5, 2010

THE HANGMAN

The father of modern Conservatism, Edmund Burke, stated: "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Well, the Silent Majority has done nothing to oppose the Leftists and their need for a cradle-to-grave government teat to suck on for far too long. That is why we are in the fight for our nation right now. From Comrade Zero closing ALL offshore drilling (and onshore as well), as well as closing ANWR down (climate change you know), WE are going to reap the whirlwind with 5-8 dollar a gallon gas, just like the Commie Puke-in-Chief wants it. We'd better get involved and STAY INVOLVED or the words of Maurice Odgen might be our epitaph.

THE HANGMAN
By Maurice Ogden

Into our town the hangman came,
smelling of gold and blood and flame.
He paced our bricks with a different air,
and built his frame on the courthouse square.

The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
only as wide as the door was wide
with a frame as tall, or a little more,
than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

And we wondered whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal? What the crime?
The hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

And innocent though we were with dread,
we passed those eyes of buckshot lead.
Till one cried, "Hangman, who is he,
for whom you raised the gallows-tree?"

Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye
and he gave a riddle instead of reply.
"He who serves me best," said he
"Shall earn the rope on the gallows-tree."

And he stepped down and laid his hand
on a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for anothers grief
at the hangmans hand, was our relief.

And the gallows frame on the courthouse lawn
by tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way and no one spoke
out of respect for his hangmans cloak.

The next day's sun looked mildly down
on roof and street in our quiet town;
and stark and black in the morning air
the gallows-tree on the courthouse square.

And the hangman stood at his usual stand
with the yellow hemp in his busy hand.
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike,
and his air so knowing and business-like.

And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done,
yesterday with the alien one?"
Then we fell silent and stood amazed.
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."

He laughed a laugh as he looked at us,
"Do you think I've gone to all this fuss,
To hang one man? That's the thing I do.
To stretch the rope when the rope is new."

Above our silence a voice cried "Shame!"
and into our midst the hangman came;
to that mans place, "Do you hold," said he,
"With him that was meat for the gallows-tree?"

He laid his hand on that one's arm
and we shrank back in quick alarm.
We gave him way, and no one spoke,
out of fear of the hangmans cloak.

That night we saw with dread surprise
the hangmans scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
the gallows-tree had taken root.

Now as wide, or a little more
than the steps that led to the courthouse door.
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
half way up on the courthouse wall.

The third he took, we had all heard tell,
was a usurer..., an infidel.
And "What" said the hangman, "Have you to do
with the gallows-bound..., and he a Jew?"

And we cried out, "Is this one he
who has served you well and faithfully?"
The hangman smiled, "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows beam."

The fourth man's dark accusing song
had scratched our comfort hard and long.
"And what concern," he gave us back,
"Have you ... for the doomed and black?"

The fifth, the sixth, and we cried again,
"Hangman, hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick", said he, "that we hangman know
for easing the trap when the trap springs slow."

And so we ceased and asked now more
as the hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night
the gallows grew to monstrous height.

The wings of the scaffold opened wide
until they covered the square from side to side.
And the monster cross beam looking down,
cast its shadow across the town.

Then through the town the hangman came
and called through the empy streets...my name.
I looked at the gallows soaring tall
and thought ... there's no one left at all
for hanging ... and so he called to me
to help take down the gallows-tree.
And I went out with right good hope
to the hangmans tree and the hangmans rope.

He smiled at me as I came down
to the courthouse square...through the silent town.
Supple and stretched in his busy hand,
was the yellow twist of hempen strand.

He whistled his tune as he tried the trap
and it sprang down with a ready snap.
Then with a smile of awful command,
He laid his hand upon my hand.

"You tricked me Hangman." I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men,
and I'm no henchman of yours." I cried.
"You lied to me Hangman, foully lied."

Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye,
"Lied to you...tricked you?" He said "Not I...
for I answered straight and told you true.
The scaffold was raised for none but you."

"For who has served more faithfully?
With your coward's hope." said He,
"And where are the others that might have stood
side by your side, in the common good?"

"Dead!" I answered, and amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me.
"First the alien ... then the Jew.
I did no more than you let me do."

Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
none before stood so alone as I.
The Hangman then strapped me...with no voice there
to cry "Stay!" ... for me in the empty square.

Why did you do this Hangman?

"I did not more than you let me do."

17 comments:

  1. The posting of "Hangman" is reminencent of this bit of prose.
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_they_came...

    Remember all it takes for evil to win is for good men (and women ) to do nothing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. and when hitler made the jews wear stars on their sleeves the germans did nothing. when the gestapo rounded them up, still nothing. when the ss marched and shipped them to death camps, still nothing.

    when the gestapo and ss started hunting germans who was left to protect them?

    ReplyDelete
  3. just like the cold war. every country that fell to comunism, our bleeding heart libs would poo poo us if we tryed to stop them. cuba right here in our hemisphere. its only one country. then when it spread to central america, its not in our country.

    but how fast the libs cry for us to protect them when it is them. they will not stand up for others and tell us not to either. but when they here that midnight knock, they cry how could this happen? where is our military to protect us from tyrany?

    oh thats right! we sold them down the river for social welfare.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love poetry in the morning.

    Typical story of the Socialist. They always say that they are not like their predecessors. They aren't going to do what the last socialist did. Instead they will bring peace and equality. Don't worry of money, we will share the wealth, don't worry about education, we will school you, don't worry about a job, we will give you one, the government will take care of everything. But first, we must deal with social injustice. The rich must pay, and then we must eliminate the leaches of society, the handicapped. Then the lazy, then the Jews, Japs, Irish...

    In the end there is only the poor and weak, and the wealth and powerful.

    Like I said, I love poetry in the morning.

    ReplyDelete
  5. osamabinobama "i did no more than you let me do"


    A worthless no good sorry muslim POS, the bin obama.

    May God damn his soul forever.

    ReplyDelete
  6. GUNNY HATES EVERYONE
    By Ivan the Poet

    Gunny hates a lot of folks
    You can see it in his scribbling
    The thought of Karl or Vlad or Mao
    Sets his lips to dribbling

    He hates those lib'rals and those blacks
    Obama drives him batty
    Democrats cause his ears to bleed
    And migrants make him catty

    Gunny hates 'most everyone
    Both the poor and upper-crust
    (But mention of that Reagan jerk
    Fills his groin with lust)

    Of all the folks that Gunny hates
    One really takes the cake
    He's not a leftist, Dem or Bro
    Or sci-fi Kraken Wake

    The blackguard brute that Gunny loathes
    Who sticks most in his craw
    Is a Nobel-laureate playwright
    By the name of George B. Shaw

    Yes it's ol' Bernard Gunny abhors
    With a spite that hurts his head
    Perhaps someone should tell the fool
    That ol' Bernard is dead.

    (c) 2010 All rights reserved

    ReplyDelete
  7. I have never seen the Gunny hate one someone because of their skin color.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Ivan.
    I would not give up my day job, if I were you.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Now Ivan, two can play that game

    Ivan loves Engels and Marx
    He really is a tool
    Belief they’ll make manly
    Is proof he’s quite the fool

    Attacking liberty and freedom
    Makes him feel strong
    Replacing it with death and oppression
    To him would not be wrong

    Lenin said “I’ll try this out
    We’ll just remove dissent
    He lined them up and shot them all
    Just thirty thousand spent

    Hitler said I’m not the same
    I only hate the Jews
    Oh and the Pols, the blacks
    and any that may refuse

    Stalin starved 23 million
    To prove His iron fist
    God forbid it was your name
    On his enemy list

    Mao said “I can top them all”
    “I’m sure to take the lead”
    After killing eighty million souls
    He justified his deed

    All these Marxist leaders
    Left near one billion dead
    They ruled with hate and fear
    They'd put a bullet in your head

    All these rulers with their power
    Makes Ivan sport his wood
    Murder and oppression
    To Ivan must be good

    “I’ll fight to defeat freedom”
    “Each and every day”
    “That or stay a prison-bitch”
    “And admit that that I am Gay”

    The moral of this story
    May come as quite a jolt
    You may think you are smart Ivan
    But you’re just a stupid dolt

    ReplyDelete
  10. Hmmmm... the ALZ and Poetry Corner. How cool.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Jim said...

    >Now Ivan, two can play that game

    You've just proved that you, at any rate, cannot.

    ReplyDelete
  12. You're jelous Ivan! My poem was better than yours and you're just all a fluster about it. It's OK Ivan, no one expects anything intelligent out of you.
    But would you mind spell chequing for me, I'm packing for Hawaii for the week. I'd offer to take you along as Kilauea I hear is quite active right now, but somehow I'm sure you wouldn't go.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Jim said...

    >You're jelous Ivan!

    Jealous of a grade-school dropout who can't even SPELL jealous?

    I think not.

    I own you again, fool.

    Bwahahahaha!

    ReplyDelete
  14. You're so stupid you don't even know when you're being owned. You're like the monkey with the tin cup. All you do is your masters bidding. You just go and get the penny, or the slug while the rest of us laugh at you. Funny little Ivan, "Watch him grab the slug"

    Unlike poor little Marxist dolts, I'm off to Hawaii. Aloha Lolo!

    ReplyDelete
  15. At 12:33, Jim bragged:

    >I'm off to Hawaii.

    Hawaii, the Bahamas, Bermuda, Sri Lanka. Wherever you go, you'll still be an illiterate, ignorant, racist jerkoff and a source of amusement (and easy money) to the locals.

    >Aloha Lolo!

    Mazel Tov, fool.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Jim goes to Hawaii and Ivan goes to Cuba.
    Which was easier to separate from his money?

    ReplyDelete
  17. I went to Hawaii with a woman, Ivan went to Cuba with Lemmiwinks. Which is sick?

    ReplyDelete