In the Hawkei, Australia has made
Air defence for a mobile brigade;
The Ukrainians bleed
On their own, but they need
This equipment, this vehicle, this aid.
🇺🇦 #Ukraine #FreeTheHawkei #StandWithUkraine
Prigozhin is mobbed like a star,
As his President trembles afar;
With Russians dividing,
And Putin in hiding,
The door to the Kremlin’s ajar.
With Wagner all helter and skelter,
Poor Putin was starting to swelter;
So he fled, in his woe,
Only where could he go?
Well, the Hague would have given him shelter.
Two presidents, Slavic by clan,
Faced a choice when their troubles began;
The man in Ukraine
Chose to fight and remain,
But the sissy in Russia just ran.
Mr Shoigu, his motives unkind,
Attacks Wagner in force, from behind;
Now Prigozhin is manic,
The boss is in panic,
And Russia is losing its mind.
With Russia beginning to smoulder,
The wind’s getting up, and it’s colder;
He thought he was clever
But Putin was ever
The devil upon his own shoulder.
In villages, houses, Khruschyovka,
And yes, in his gilded Rublyovka,
Putin’s name will be slammed,
And eternally damned,
For his malice at Nova Kakhovka.
Putin doesn’t do ramifications
When acting upon his frustrations;
The dam he exploded
Has duly eroded
And flooded his fortifications.
As the Dnipro is draining today,
Russian soldiers are running away,
But they still want their fun,
At the point of a gun,
So they’re forcing the victims to stay.
The dam was just so underhanded,
But Russians downstream are more candid;
As waters are swelling
They’re busily shelling
The rescuers helping the stranded.
Let Putin be cast in the drink, too,
On video we can all link to,
But call off the boaties
And puncture his floaties
And witness the depths he will sink to.
Who would blow up a dam in the night?
Well, the Russians - when losing a fight,
They will always distract
With a criminal act
Of explosive aggression and spite.
It’s a risk, in the Army Infernal,
To be holding the rank of a Colonel;
All it seems to attract
Is munitions, in fact …
But the rest it affords is eternal.
The abyss of humanity’s dregs
Huddles, clutching his Fabergé eggs;
With drones over Novo
He’s fallen a number of pegs.
Putin’s building a bunker aroun’ them,
The wealthiest Muskovites - noun them
Now we just need a dam
Overflowing, to flood it and drown them.
Putin nervously paces at home, But his aircraft remain on the drome,
For a rogue Russian jet,
He imagines, may yet,
Do a Belgorod right on his dome.
To let the aggressor retain
Any part of the land of Ukraine
Would leave people behind,
Of Ukrainian mind,
To be tortured, imprisoned and slain.
It’s FSB witch-hunting season -
Denounce, cause you don’t need a reason;
You’ll earn a promotion
And show your devotion
By charging your elders with treason.
The Soviet Union has fled
The Security Council; it’s dead.
Ukraine asks, unanswered,
Why Russia the Rancid
Now sits at the table instead.
So little force left, should they spend it?
And where, if they do, should they send it?
There’s growing disorder
On Belgorod’s border,
And Russia’s unable to end it.
In Russia, so much is taboo …
If you want to stay out of the poo,
Tell your kids not to draw,
Never mention the war,
And you mustn’t wear yellow and blue.
The Russians, unquestioning, did
What their psychopath president bid:
Blew in at full throttle,
Like flies in a bottle,
And never considered the lid.
These aerial unmanned incursions,
And mystery border insertions,
Force Russia’s unending
To greater and greater exertions.
When a place people live is attacked,
Putin says: ‘That’s a terrorist act.'
We can only agree,
And we’re happy to see
He’s accepted the label, in fact.
It’s Summer, and bound to engender
Mixed thoughts in the Russian defender;
As the steppe comes alive,
Many choose to survive,
And they’re crossing the lines to surrender.