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Interested

Joined: 10 Feb 2003
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 5:28 am Post subject: Black humour: a poet's take on Iraq |
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December 1998: Blair - Having Bombed Baghdad, again! - Speaks from the Doorway of No. 10.
�The world�s a safer place tonight!�
- with babies in their graves,
& some of them in more than one...
Resourceful paleface braves
fire off their missiles, & recoil
at twice the speed of light
to wash their hands. They�ve made the world
a safer place tonight.
Saddam�s Story
in the dim & distant eighties
well before the last hurrah,
the wicked people of Iran
had ditched their saintly Shah.
with forty million fervent
Shia Muslims on the boil
the West preferred the Sunnis
to be managing the oil.
& Rumsfeld came to Baghdad
in nineteen-eighty-three:
"would you think of standing up to
Ayatollah Khomeini;
"this letter from our President
tells all there is to say.
Ronnie & the Pentagon
will back you all the way.
"all the arms & money
that you could ever need,
& patriotic principle,
& where that fails, there�s greed."
they cosseted, supplied him
they armed him to the teeth,
lauded & hero-worshipped him;
they stoked his self-belief.
the CIA approved him
a golden boy was Saddam;
they gave him a list of lefties
& straightaway he shot�em.
he wanted something nuclear -
"right here! inside the gate?"
(it stayed; UN inspectors found it,
nineteen ninety-eight.)
"we know you don�t mean any harm,
- though if perchance you did
be sure we�d come & get you
& screw down your little lid.
"you�d like to use a chemical?
we wouldn�t make a fuss -
this gink is fighting on our side
he�s just like one of us!
"what�s he doing that�s out of place?
we�d really like to know -
didn�t we use agent orange
not so very long ago?"
they didn�t throw their hands up,
they didn�t roll their eyes,
they didn�t point a finger
at "evil undisguised."
they didn�t turn their face away
they never mentioned guilt -
& they didn�t just encourage him
they backed him to the hilt.
You'll need to better informed - than the tabloids would have you about -the recent history of Iraq (going back to the 80s) to appreciate the author's black humour, however.
If you enjoyed that, there's a little more: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/story/0,,1931625,00.html ...but you'll have to scroll down the page to find it. |
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cwemory

Joined: 14 Jan 2006 Location: Gunpo, Korea
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 5:55 am Post subject: |
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Interesting comparison of the current situation in Iraq to the Hungraian Revolution in the main article posted.
At the very least, the above poetry is better than any of Harold Pinter's politically-charged poems.
Last edited by cwemory on Thu Oct 26, 2006 11:22 am; edited 1 time in total |
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Adventurer

Joined: 28 Jan 2006
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 9:00 am Post subject: |
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AMERICA, YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU TO SPEAK
They played eagerly in the band belligerently calling for blood,
Their drums were so loud they drowned out the protestor,
Leaders made them frightened of a country full of many a menacing scud,
Nations were blackmailed by the frightening leader who was really a court jester
Now people blame a leadership for damaging their national ship,
Yet, the people were complacent to repose in their ignorance
They neglected their obligation to democratic citizenship,
A citizenship that cherishes the Declaration of Independence,
America, you were a city on a hill, shining to those who were lost,
The city is damaged and has been ravaged by those you did trust,
The damage is more than the dollars; the wars continued cost,
Faith has been shaken, the light looks dark, the city filled with dust
The Lady of Liberty still holds a torch in her hand,
The Declaration of Independence still allows Jefferson to speak,
General Ike still smiles down on his cherished land,
It is time, people of America, for justice, to speak and champion the weak
This is a poem I wrote. The above poem is quite a catchy poem of the Spoken Word type. |
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TheUrbanMyth
Joined: 28 Jan 2003 Location: Retired
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 5:38 pm Post subject: |
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Adventurer wrote: |
AMERICA, YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU TO SPEAK
They played eagerly in the band belligerently calling for blood,
Their drums were so loud they drowned out the protestor,
Leaders made them frightened of a country full of many a menacing scud,
Nations were blackmailed by the frightening leader who was really a court jester
Now people blame a leadership for damaging their national ship,
Yet, the people were complacent to repose in their ignorance
They neglected their obligation to democratic citizenship,
A citizenship that cherishes the Declaration of Independence,
America, you were a city on a hill, shining to those who were lost,
The city is damaged and has been ravaged by those you did trust,
The damage is more than the dollars; the wars continued cost,
Faith has been shaken, the light looks dark, the city filled with dust
The Lady of Liberty still holds a torch in her hand,
The Declaration of Independence still allows Jefferson to speak,
General Ike still smiles down on his cherished land,
It is time, people of America, for justice, to speak and champion the weak
This is a poem I wrote. The above poem is quite a catchy poem of the Spoken Word type. |
Don't give up your day job.  |
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Adventurer

Joined: 28 Jan 2006
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 7:18 pm Post subject: |
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TheUrbanMyth wrote: |
[
Don't give up your day job.  |
Actually, I've written some pretty good ones. Many read some of them.
This may not be the best. Here is another one. I wrote some 8 years ago.
Some people read it and liked it, and they were not saying it to humour me. They liked it. Including someone in my family who writes poetry. It may be a bit corny, though.
>I sat down under the lemon tree
>I sat down under the tree of my village
>The atmosphere whispered its wind with tenderness
>There under my lemon tree my mind was in a mirage
>
>I had wished I could express my love to this tree
>This tree of nativity was like a kind woman with its fragrance
>She touched me and protected me and protected me from the outside
>In her embrace there was protection and child-hood pleasantry
>
>One sad day, human fire had me live in the mountain
>How sad it was to be away from my youthful fountain
>Now, I live in a dark cave far from my home
>There were other people there living in the despair
>
>My sadness was forgotten when I heard a loud cry
>I looked around and there I saw her with red eyes
>She had dark eyes and flowing hair and beauty I can't deny
>The moment stopped we held a joint gaze and held in embrace
>
>Time passed and gave its kindness and I at last returned
>The time of long journey never took away the desire the burned
>I returned home to my lemon tree but I was not alone
>There stood I with two additions to pay homage to the tree |
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