Best Caliphate Poems
Rising from the desert sand
was a shimmering mirage
of a thousand shouts
Heated winds of fanaticism,
intense and blowing violently loud
Shrill calls to blood prayer seethe,
breathing fiery invocations
of a perverted philosophy
Screaming death to the infidels —
a scarlet smeared mirror reflecting
black cloth covered savagery
Crimson prayers are the daubed untempered mortar
which cements the foundation of this shakily rising kingdom
Whet the glittering scimitar swung grisly:
Beheadings are the blade’s
propaganda recruitment shock TV
Desert crisis ... dreaded carrion claws of ISIS,
oasis mirage bathe the sociopaths in bloody bliss
Mutilated bodies floating upon the desert sea,
a raised dark flag boasts of a fleeting victory
Prideful utterances of unspeakable barbarity
Contemned caliphate mercurial rising ...
now descending quickly below the horizon
Crumbling desert kingdom,
butchery sow the seeds of your ruin
The sand castle rise to power was ever so brief,
a pirated religion kingdom soon to end suddenly
Taking hostage your own faith,
now the proselyte guards are
fleeing from the palace carnage
Crumbling desert kingdom,
butchery sow the seeds of your ruin
Innocent blood spilled in the sand
will be your caliphate’s undoing
Crumbling desert kingdom,
blood reap the harvest of your ruin
Let your prophets of terror and rage
shout a false sanctum call to prayer
Intoning not this one truth: God will surely repay!
If I had over 10,000 dreams
You'd be the only thing my mind could see
Judgment couldn't be real
Succumbing to the fear of this cold life
Find a way to break through
The self-destruction of wordly delusions
Don't tell me I've lived so long in a lovely illusion
Break me down until we find a Nirvanic state
Then bring me a savior from transgressions
An atoning sacrifice
Send down to me a messenger for me to submit to
Bring me the truth to break through The delusion
Bring me the messenger to explain it all
And let me leave behind
Sorrow's caressing the earth
The caliphate stole my heart
Without a will to fight
But I have the Means to be free
I'll try to go with the word I believe
But so many stones to be thrown
Stakes to burn, limbs to break
Faces to hate, scorns to taste
Will I have the will to die
Despite all of the tears no one will cry
Sorrow's caressing the earth
The caliphate stole my heart
Broke my will
Safetefied my soul
Martyr for the Unorthodox word
Sorrow's caressing the earth
The caliphate stole my heart
Without a will to fight
But I have the Means to be free
I'll try to go with the word I believe
But so many stones to be thrown
Stakes to burn, limbs to break
Faces to hate, scorns to taste
Will I have the will to die
Despite all of the tears no one will cry
Sorrow's caressing the earth
The caliphate stole my heart
Broke my will
Safetefied my soul
Martyr for the Unorthodox word
The serpent's evil doctrine he'd tried to inflict
Tore peaceful communities assunder; causing conflict
The ghost soldiers would come in the dead of night
Taking on the evil serpent with firepower and might.
They would infiltrate the serpent's lair and be in disguise
And unleash hit and run tactics with the element of surprise
This enraged the serpent who put a price on their head
And he would pray to his god of evil; wishing them all dead.
It was in the Middle East that the serpent came to light
Waged a killing spree thinking it was his god given right
All the ghost soldiers' had to do was follow the trail of the dead
Then corner the evil serpent and cut off its head.
Offsprings of the serpent are now starting to nourish
But our civilised world must ensure they don't flourish
All nations must come together and stop this pure evil
And stop innocent people from suffering unnecessary upheaval.
Our world would live in fear but for the ghost soldier's sacrifice
But to rid the world from evil someone pays a heavy price
Some of these ghost soldiers paid with their lives
And would do it again to ensure; evil no longer thrives.
Written 24th February 2020.
Dedicated to the special forces of many nations who waged a behind the scenes war on ISIS in the Middle East.
Their covert missions' helped bring about the end of the self proclaimed caliphate and freed many people who were slaves' to ISIS.
The caliphate is no more but the behind the scenes war continues to this day.
The volatile excerpt reads “The behead-
ings that were carried out by the Isla-
mic State of Iraq and Syria, the
rage of hate is a control factor for
the power of the leader to be sup-
reme. Is this the measure of mankind?
The rigor-mortis that lay before us
is a terrorist creed dogma time clock.
None the less than government formed through doc-
trine of Qu’ran and Sunni stated to
be the divine order of all the land.
al-Baghdadi caliphate is mercen-
ary to the faith of the Middle East.
The rage of hate must be depleted now."
R oused was the first leader and destroyed.
a l-Baghdadi came on board.
G ruesome guerilla killed woman, man, and child for his caliphate.
E quality must be palpability today.
F ear that is caste by ISIS.
O ften is not considered by the people as a terrorist.
R egards are to the governess.
P opulations are nations
E volved to roam.
A spirations are not known.
C aliphate has formed.
E quity and identity is commercial paper shown.
______________________________________|
Penned February 27, 2015!
This poem is a sonnet that is emphasized via an
acrostic for the desired effect on the stated form.
Abu Nuwas
He proclaimed to the caliphate
In the dark hours of the evening
Rejoice! These splendid virgins are a bleeding
Drink our youth, and let not harm come our way
Peace is the brotherhood
Wine and love shall hold sway
Let us rejoice at the gardens and fresh bled flowers
The vineyards and the imams holy ways
Abu, in his boastful poetic fashion
Told the Islamic court,
Let us dance until the stars begin to fade
This is the fashion the universe has made
Embrace the learning’s of our neighbors conquered
The gardens of Babylon
In our drunkenness
Let us de-flower
Rejoice rejoice
For all that we do
We wish no harm on others
To flourish is all that we shall demand
Live with honor as you kiss the maidens hand
Abu held the court as poet and jester
Wine and wisdom invaded his soul
At times prison lay in front, enemies do fester
Freed from his irons
Abu Nuwas wrote poems of love
That lasted forever
Isis is the weed
And not the flower
String your rifles and turn them to guitars,
O seething lords of the caliphate,
And with the darling doves let your missiles fly
in echelon, leaving dark owls behind.
The lord's children yearn more for music and
pretty sights in the sky!
But look what you serve them: pillage,
bondage, sacrilege, ...
All in the name of Heaven!
Hell's favorite dishes -- how well you cook
them!
Your vicious band of soiled souls roam the
sands of Arabia,
Weaving a plague of death and anarchy, and
how you delight in it!
Treasures that even vandals spared, you have
readily speared:
Churches, books, monuments, ...
Not one have you skipped in this orgy of terror.
But Heaven in whose name you hurt now grieves;
her tears well up in the hearts of the virtuous.
Slowly they’ll gather into furious streams
That from breasts weary with pain
Shall one day erupt and sweep this caliphate
to a surly fate.
"Political power grows out of the barrel
of a gun" - Mao Zedong.
North Korea has nuclear;
current regime's fear
of falling out is clear.
China, Philippines, Japan,
and Taiwan all claim possession
of South China sea -
China claims it owns the sea
because it has the name China
on it.
Syrian warfare is like venom
of different animals mixed
together in a dark blender;
you can't tell who's ISIS, al-qaeda,
Hizbollah, Iranian agents,
Syrian rebels or Regime Forces.
A North Korean sub is missing in the sea;
no one knows what's next....
Russia and United States have differences
on how Syrian War should be handled.
Myriads of Syrian refugees cry at the gates
of Europe;
like Mary and Joseph in the Inn,
there's a few people letting them in.
Dalai Lama still cries for freedom
for the Tibetans.
Corruption still eats away economies
in African counties and national cakes.
Donald Trump wants an America
with no immigrants-
I think he's saying goodbye
to globalisation.
Boko Haram want to create a Caliphate
empire across West Africa.
Politics, the Grimm Reaper,
is here and listening!
(I wrote this PRIOR to the election, but many of the same questions remain)
I cannot tell you where I stand,
I don't know what to think,
Our beloved country, USA
Is standing on the brink.
The candidates for POTUS
Are questionable, at best,
And I cringe to think what each might do
When they're finally put to test.
See, one is spreading vitriol,
The other lies at length,
And their affinity for bickering
Just saps our nation's strength.
They seem to have forgotten
They're supposed to be our "voice",
And the selfish aims they represent
Just further clouds our choice.
I've never been more worried
About the future that's in sight,
And what our votes may bring about,
Whether leaning left or right.
I'm beleaguered for my children,
And for my grandkids, too,
For this eventuate selection
Will impinge on all they do.
The problems that we're facing,
As a people and a land,
Have never been more critical
Than the issues now at hand.
Our economy and human rights
Are balancing on edge,
And terrorism spreads unchecked
As the caliphate is fed.
New racial tensions plague us,
Foreign policies are unclear,
Immigration needs attention,
Health insurance crises near.
Our defense systems are ailing,
Our penal system weak,
Our cyber systems vulnerable,
And crime has reached a peak.
Our preference is for party lines
Over unity, of late,
And it seems we've traded kindness
For animosity and hate.
Never in my memory
Has this country needed more,
A leader with true character
And integrity at their core.
Yet as we enter crunch time
The lesser evil seems the choice,
For our votes will have no confidence
As we lack a steadfast voice.
I wish our path was clearer
As election day draws close,
And I wish I could be hopeful
For the land I love the most.
So, I'm praying for a miracle
And a light to shine the way,
But I fear we're at dear mercy's sake,
For our beloved USA.
Massed crowds of all creeds jostle to enter
Inside cool air and dim light calms the soul
Eyes gaze around this spiritual centre
Built form and faith symbols create a whole
In the greatest mosque squats the Christian place
Two toned stacked arches on columns in line
Iconic forms give an opulent face
Geometric shapes in a complex design
Religion with social is the Muslims’ way
Sahn, zullah and mihrab lead one to prayer
And then Christian gospel no social say
High alter dominance makes one aware
Caliphate, Gothic and Baroque do converge
Yet these two faiths so close will never merge
Vikings and Islam
Way back in the 7 hundred or something when
Islam leaders tried to establish a Caliphate in
Europe, they met Vikings who were plundering
their way down the river of Volga and often
employed the barbaric Norsemen to do a bit of
plundering on their behalf.
A few Vikings converted, when coming home
they spoke about the evil of fermented drink
and it took hold, even when Islam, the religion,
was forgotten the idea of sobriety lingered and
has had a deep influence in Nordic Societies
ever since. Well, the Moslems are back, not as
occupiers, but one wishes, on Saturday nights,
a bit of sober Islam would be remembered.
Itinerant mercenary shrouded with penitent robe
Shining beacon for terrorists around the globe
Hermetic curmudgeon; gun-toting xenophobe
Zealous provacateur who for ardent jihadists did probe
Material wealth a means; establishing a caliphate the end
Seeking Arab-royalty's, sovereign-sheikdoms to rend
Scourge of terror to blight all that western values defend
Sharia law to govern Middle East; Allah's dividend
Great Satan's engine to throttle
Region's fealty to bottle
Suicide pilots struck the monuments we coddle
Gratuitious shards and blood stains did the landscape mottle
President Bush promised swift revenge
Ordered Taliban to stop Osama's bloody binge
Mullah Omar reneged; Bushes' saber rattling had a malodorous tinge
U.S forces did the Taliban's quarters singe
Alquaida's overseas operations are diminished
But Alquaida's mission not finished
Alquaida cells in Iraq, Afghanistan bravely battle, mettle distinguished
Nevertheless, the infidel forces not extinguished
Gitmo detainees probed for information
Trite torture brought about stunning reformation
Stressed warrior's fealty to leader declined in isolated station
Under duration, divulged details about Bin Laden's method of operation
Osama's couriers cover blown
Seeds for fruitful harvest are sown
Courier's redoubt canvassed with satellite, drone
Intelligence on compound, residents CIA did hone
Calculated risk; Navy Seals in choppers did alight
Flying quietly with fiery portents into the calm night
Hoping the briny tentacles of terror to blight
Cresting over the shadowy compound; objective in sight
Down the dangling ladders vigilant Seals did repel
Into the throes of darkness descending into the mouth of hell
Perimeter defense, early warning signals were of no avail
Osama's stunned tenants could only stand fast or bail
Each obstacle, human shield the Seals did meticulously fell
Carefully following the trail to the Holy Grail
Entering Osama's room, rending the sacral veil
The caged warrior with precision did shell
Osama's dead body packed in a unmarked crate
Transported vicariously to lab, identity to equate
Identity confirmed; vigilant menace had met his fate
Un-consecrated remains tossed into sea; watery tomb his final estate
Hassan harbours hard-worn hardship in his heavy homeless heart
Drones dereliction devastation and dire disintegration of daring dreams
Dear daughter dead at dawn Delisiha demised dismembered decapitated
Harbingers of hell in heaven heaving with helter-skelter and hatred
Skinny skull surreal surrender to salvation and suffering’s solitude
His maimed mind meanders towards Mecca’ mid-morning mist
‘Mohammed my Master mould my misery to magic martyrdom’
‘Save seven sweet sexy sisters in the scope of sound sensual skies’
Balls brethren bequeathed by my baba for blasting those bastards
Ignorant infidels igniting incensed immeasurable invocation indeed
Bearing the bellicose burden and berated by birth belittled and bold
The courageous courier of comatose carnage carefully counts the cost
Captured in the Caliphate contorted in a crowded catacomb he cringes
Waterboarding washes over the waning warrior’s wasted wreckage
Hassan hopes helplessly for humerus and hips to heal in good humour
GI Graysen giggles and generates generous gifts of guts and glorious gore
Considerate Conclusions
Chains have cantankerous consequences
Brave balls from Baghdad bear the baton
Guts and gore guarantee Guantanamo
Victory is vile vindictive and vicious
18th April 2019
The economy was booming, best for years
As for unemployment then: he had it beat
Feel-good factor lifted spirits dried our tears
Voted ‘gainst him cos I didn’t like his tweets
Yes he made the border strong secured the nation
Shut out drug mules with the Covid and wet feet
Slowed persistent fundamental transformation
Yet I still reject him cos he does mean tweets
When ISIS cut a swathe across Levant
He made destruction of their Caliphate complete
And silenced their polemics and their rant
But I disapproved cos I don’t like his tweets
Brought the vaccines to production at warp speed
Others gave thumbs down to aught laid at his feet
Now they seek enforcement even without need
And to him I give the elbow - don’t like tweets
Should he come again, restore the nation’s pride
After years of deprecating self defeat
Would I then come to accept what I denied?
Well perhaps - if he would only stop his tweets!
Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of the daughter of a caliphate
Is come, a rose is come to me.
Blow out the candles of your cake.
They will not leave you in the dark,
Who round with grace this dusky arc
Of the grand tour which souls must take.
You who have sounded Maria Flakes,
And the still pool, to Plato’s mark,
Blow out the candles of your cake.
They will not leave you in the dark.
Yet, for your friends’ benighted sake,
Detain your upward-flying spark;
Get us that wish, though like the lark
You whet your wings till dawn shall break:
Blow out the candles of your cake
The Black-winged Bird.
A bird with enormous wing span is darkening
the sky over the Middle east and there is much
bloodshed as always when a new nation is born
a good example is Israel it cost the life untold by
the losers, living in camps far from home.
thousands of young men are finding adventures
and the order the seek so fervently waving black
flags knowing their nation will win no matter
who many headless corpses it makes take, but that
will be forgotten; we only remember the winner,
the Caliphate, which altered the map of the world
and made it a safe haven for undiluted Islam.