Tag Archives: evil

TRUMP CHRONICLES: EPIGRAMS; 1-7

Less satirical than psychoanalytical, I am  an opportunist,

megalomaniacal, extraordinaire; to a GOP, indeed, no apprentice.

@RealDonaldTrump: I’m telling my story @CNN; Art Everman’s writing his, in

#twitterfiction; a surreal, look-alike, mutant form, of fiction.

A popular, populist against a populist, unpopular. @RealDonaldTrump: That’s me,

POTUS wannabe; Art, @chachomanopapa is but, author, wannabe.

@RealDonaldTrump: I’m none other than the alter-ego of my fraternal twin brother,

angel-trainee @chachomanopapa; each, brothers’ … keepers.

Admittedly, I, @realDonaldTrump am of course, megalomaniacal. But so is he!

Art is dangerous and as I’m less so, listen then … to me.

For he, unlike me (@realDonaldTrump) is neither author nor even a very wise man.

In my humble opinion … Arthur Everman is … an evil man.

And evil is the message of AN ATLAS, ALGORITHMIC on behavior modification;

it is not at all applicable to nations, as it is … to persons.

BEWARE: Read This Only if … Unafraid … of Being Afraid

Call me evil. Call me devil. Call me jinn. Call me whatever in the hell you want. I write; therefore, I am. This story (a poem within a poem, really), is really happening. Happy endings, on the other hand, are not happening … way more often … than not.

Halloween, my absolutely favorite day of the year, is, once again, upon us. In celebration thereof, I congratulate the overwhelming majority of you homo sapiens (lol) on your early-bird reservations. To update both unbelievers and skeptics alike on the goings-on here in my swell and swelling hell, read these poems in conjunction, as if they were, as they are; a diabolical, help-wanted, advertisement. No harm in that; after all, you shall … indubitably … believe me not.

Can you trust me to tell the truth? Of course not, sillies. I’m the evil one. I have malice in my heart, deceit in my thoughts and shall have lies, near perpetually … on the tips … of my tongues.

But this is not to scare you with the admittedly horrific details regarding my psyche, much less, my physique. Believe you me, they’re pretty scary. Rather, this is to scare you with rhyming lines about time consigned. Your time … wise guys … is near done.

A few prefatory notes to my want-ad-like-poems; firstly, make no mistake. Heaven, like hell, is a fact, Jack. In fact … no other place (but Heaven) … is eternal.

Secondly; believe it or not, contrary to popular belief, all you evildoers and non-believers DON’T join me, much less Him, immediately upon the termination of your worthless lives. It’s actually not until after Judgment Day that the festivities down here are scheduled to begin. If you don’t believe me, just re-read what the New Testament and Koran reveal … regarding … the infernal.

Finally, take note of this: You needn’t be much of an evildoer to join me. Being a non-believer is more than sufficient. And you don’t even have to submit a resume of your evil accomplishments, nor any notarized certification of your disbelief. Both misdeeds and/or disbelief … are continually recorded … for posterity.

Just let your deeds and your misdeeds, whether affirmative acts or omissions to act, speak for you. In the majority of cases by far, like me, you’ll fail. You’ll fail to love Him above all. You’ll fail to love your brother as you do yourself. Believe you me … you’ll fail … most miserably.

My power play, borne of vanity and jealousy, backfired on me. But like an AIDS-infected sex-addict, I’m going to take as many of you suckers as I can, down with me. The greatest of your generals have divided to conquer. It’s been much easier for me. In dividing yourselves, you’ve made my conquest of you … and your brothers and sisters … near effortless.

Just keep on keeping on. Keep on lying. Keep on cheating. Keep on denying that you’re your brother’s keeper. I’ve plagiarized the poem that follows from one of your own. As you read it, you may well nod your head in somber acknowledgement. Thankfully though, you won’t take it to heart … You’re doing just fine … To that … I do attest.

CALL ME EVIL: By Bubba, the Devil (II)

Call me evil. Call me devil. Call me jinn. Call me whatever in unholy
hell you want. I write; therefore, I am. This story
(a poem within a poem, really), is really happening. Happy
endings, on the other hand, are not
happening … way more often … than not.

Halloween, my absolutely favorite day of the year, is, once again, upon us.
In celebration thereof, allow us
here in hell to congratulate and welcome
the overwhelming majority of you homo sapiens on your early-bird reservations.
You are all well come to my unholy kingdom …. Welcome!

To update both unbelievers and skeptics alike on
the goings-on here in hell, read these poems in conjunction.
Suspend your disbelief. These are diabolical help-wanted advertisements, not,
a mere spoof. No harm in that; after all, you shall … indubitably … not
believe me … but rather … believe me … not.

CALL ME EVIL: By Bubba, the Devil (I)

Call me evil. Call me devil. Call me jinn. Call me whatever in unholy
hell you want. I write; therefore, I am. This story
(a poem within a poem, really), is really happening. Happy
endings, on the other hand, are not
happening … way more often … than not.

Halloween, my absolutely favorite day of the year, is, once again, upon us.
In celebration thereof, allow us
here in hell to congratulate and welcome
the overwhelming majority of you homo sapiens on your early reservations.
You are all well come to my unholy kingdom …. Welcome!

ROBIN WILLIAMS … IS

Ironies abound in this surreally #twitterfiction-al nonfiction; good things
happening to bad people; bad things to good people …. It’s dismaying.

Irony abounds in surreally #twitterfiction-al nonfiction. Robin Williams dying
by his own hand; innocents too … at the hand of ISIS … dying.

Ironies abound in this surreally #twitterfiction-al nonfiction. This coming
from one who’s been … life-sucking demons … with Robin … sharing.

Irony abounds in #twitterfiction-al nonfiction. A bi-polar planet increasingly,
dies by its own hand; but evil dies forever; good is … Godly.

#Twitterfiction-ally, Art, the wannabe author of AN ATLAS POETIC knew him
personally not; that is not to say, he won’t miss Robin … Williams.

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