Best Imams Poems
Silent Lies and Deception
In the silence of murky waters
There slithers oily snakes of the night
Wearing masks of deception
Beware of fools singing with Stalin’s tongue
The KGB shall set you free
Drowning you in the river Volga
The cold water keeping your lips tight
Whilst the silent ones spread their deceits
Lies, lies their dirty little lies
I wonder how their tongues wag and loudly sprout
So righteous, like imams with out a doubt
I call for radio silence
When comes the clique of hate
They say they have none, and
Maybe this is true
They run out at times, spreading it to you
Those who truly have good will and peace
Growing like flowers in a botanical heaven
Never spew the bloody insecticides here on earth
That alters the genes of peace in me and you
Beware of white sheep
That howls like the wolf at the full moon
A wise man knows the meaning of silence
Silent ones simply slither sneaky prose in the night
The Caspian Sea
Holds many ghosts who if not for death
Could tell you many silent tales
Of those with a million smiles and twisted masks
Seekers of the Silent Lies and Deception
Dead Sea and salty tombs
Silent in womb
Notes: The last poems Angel and Devil, about mans ability for both good and evil, I continued the theme here, by describing two repressive regimes, Russian under the likes of Stalin and Putin and the Palestinian one under Arafat. The poem is either incomplete or to be continued in a second poem, as in the end I inferred the Silent one Amina, a story about the repression and hardships of women in India. An excellent book by a great author Fiza Pathan.
Categories:
imams, corruption, evil, history, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?
With orphans on their backs they’d crawled (with others that they’d brought)
Through rubble on the highway sands and residues of Lot.
They came from severed cities selling postcards of your thoughts,
Though offered for a penny piece, not even worth a jot.
They mused
“How are you feeling? What it is you want, you’ve got.
The words you scrawl on calling cards: ‘I AM – the others NOT’
Shun wisdoms of the Seven Seas: ‘Salvation can’t be bought’ –
Your fathers tried before you and your fathers came to naught.
“You started out by gelding goats and then by casting lots
Of bodies to the battlefields, contorted, tight and taut,
Then wallowed in the wake of trails the dervish devil trots.
“With marching bands of fatherlands, and drums of Hottentots,
You lure your legions in harm’s way like giant juggernauts.
Like Tweedle Dum your minions come (the sober and the sots,
The troglodytes, barbarians, and mislead patriots,
The Vandals, Huns and Hannibals and seaport Cypriots,
The Japanese, the Congolese, Americans and Scots)
To vanquish bows and arrows, spears and catapulted shots
Of those who hide in bamboo huts their families, pale, distraught,
(Their withered wives with dried up breasts, their swollen babes in cots)
Who swoon, engulfed in poison darts and vats of acid hot,
Consumed by magic mushroom clouds, atomic megawatts.
“In churches of your deities, your Holy Huguenots,
Your Imams, Rabbis, Voodoo Dolls and Mitered Lancelots
Lit wicked kindled candled walls in temples (while we fought)
(Used pins and needles, magic spells on makeshift mock whatnots)
And mosques, cathedrals, synagogues have blessed each new onslaught
With prayers for pipers, puppets, pawns, your rigid armed robots.
Continued in Part 2…
Categories:
imams, war,
Form:
Monorhyme
Politics is a dirty game,
So indeed is religion –
One screws with your mind,
The other with your soul;
One promises heaven on earth,
The other, heaven after death.
Trust not these savvy advocates –
Politicians, priests, mullahs, imams,
These breeders of
the ghosts and the goblins,
These keepers of
the deities and the demons,
These self-styled ‘well-wishers’
of your body and soul.
Like leeches they’ll
latch onto your fears
and to your gullibility,
Until they have sucked
you dry of your free will,
Your aspirations,
Your wealth.
Oh, what not they’ll do
to restrain your free spirit,
Bogging you down with
fears, guilt and penance.
Seen openly are
their murky minds,
Seen openly are
their shallow ideals,
Seen openly are
their cheating hearts;
They tout love, freedom, peace
wherever they go,
Yet spawn nothing but
hatred, violence, misery.
One is politically religious,
The other, religiously political!
Categories:
imams, political, religious,
Form:
Free verse
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
Categories:
imams, allah, arabic, inspirational, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
It is disgusting that 734 people died at Mecca,
Last Thursday, when so many lives were lost,
Needlessly, for want of crowd control officials,
To restrain the 1.4 million who’s emotions cost.
Religion is never an objective thing,
It's extremely emotional, out with rational thought;
And the ritual that the pilgrims were approaching,
Was, in my opinion, religion’s most irrational shot.
It was the Stoning of the Devil ritual,
Which celebrates Abraham’s obedience to god,
Who told him to kill his son and ignore all conscience,
Rather than listening to Satan, who seemed to have the nod.
This sacrificial story sickens me to my stomach,
Always did, always will, still does:
That you should reason by faith any action,
That's it's valid, whether moral, immoral, or even just a shove.
Killing your own child just for a voice in your head,
Which says he’s love’s superior, consummation,
Is insane, wrong, and really quite mentally ill,
And certainly should not be taught in admiration.
As a child it was one of my main objections,
To faith, the liturgy, the Bible and god,
Who today should be represented by elders or imams,
Who should contrive to keep within morality’s rod.
When you’re at Mecca, the epitome of your faith,
Approaching the most irrational ritual in your life,
Your emotions are bound to get the better of you,
Such that regressive behaviour will be your strife.
Iran blamed the Saudi authorities,
For having no safety mechanisms in place;
Fundamentalism should come under, like all else,
Crowd regulation laws and standards which grace.
Even the Billy Graham stadium events,
Used ushers and councellors to ensure,
That people were behaving considerately:
They were ready to attend to and direct the pure.
I would like all fundamentalism to be regulated,
Supervised by a human-centred body,
Such that god coincides with morality,
Giving seekers their lofty and loving somebody.
27/9/2015
Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac is in Genesis 22:1-19.
Categories:
imams, anger, death, god, leadership,
Form:
Rhyme
A people without a god
I ask you to serve our goddess,
to pay the dues of our kinds,
leaving those western men you call priests and imams at the expense of our shrine masters
and their fabulous incantations,
pouring wine at our ancestral shrines,
perhaps dance the formidable tunes of our “Nfehveh;”
But you rather preferred the Yahweh and Allah of our western compatriots, soaring with
them … just feeling happy,
getting in motion with their beloveds rhythmic melodies,
placing all evil curses on me and calling me an animist;
Forgetting the good old past of our ancestors that have sunk into this stock of past events,
terming our tradition an enemy of progress
and changing the dancing path of our marvelous “samba;”
Besides,
time may have change
but the past is still part and parcel of life
and it hurts more when you grow wild ignoring me,
giving me impressions that I need redemption;
To be continued...
Categories:
imams, faithme, allah, me, ,
Form:
Free verse
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they bring thur minarets,mosques and imams
An' ower the city sound the muezzins' prayer alarms
An' they mak great play o' daein' Ramadan
An' profit frae sellin liquor they themselves ban
Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they wrap thur wummin in niqab and burqa
An' insist oan usin' the courts Sharia
An' don't let ye mak jokes aboot the prophet
An' tell ye ,if ye dae,ye'd better come aff it
Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they chant"Allahu Akbar" wi' thur guns in thur fists
An' blaw thumsels up wi' thur suicide vests
An' aw this efter shootin' hunners ae us
An' blamin' the West fur aw ae the fuss
Haw Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Categories:
imams, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
There are female
Prophets and Imams as well –
They are few in number.
Categories:
imams, faith, philosophy, religion
Form:
Haiku
Afghanistan! would anybody give a damn
perhaps had a chance, under Uncle Sam
They gave them weapons, to fight Talibans
enslavers of women, for pleasures of man
Kabul was thriving, the west brought calm
young ladies attend school, sitting exams
Mullahs hid in exile, with extremist Imams
Allowed back in, by surrendering Afghans
Another failed state, turns hardline Islam
say they've changed, nah just a big scam
The door was opened, they choose to slam
right back to poverty, from where it began
Religious fanatics, resume same old sham
beheadings, torturing, cut off some hands
Warped Sharia law, interpretation of Koran
no A la carte, only one recipe, Allah flambe *
US couldn't stay forever, done all they can
must watch Russia, China, Nth Korea, Iran
In tragic war situations, there's no exit plan
want to point a finger, start with bin laden
* Play on (A la Flambe) no offence intended
to moderate peaceful Muslims*
Afghanistan Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
25/08/2021
Categories:
imams, allusion, america, islamic, war,
Form:
Monorhyme
The Imams are leader
Of the believers in brief –
Mosques have Imams too.
Categories:
imams, faith, philosophy, religion
Form:
Haiku
WHERE DOES LOVE LIE?
I
Where does love lie?
Many are clueless, some go paranoid
Trying to seek out meaningless solutions
And answers in the pages of a book;
They consult mediums and spiritualists
They even go the extra length seeking answers
From the church and from the mosque
Yet they are left without answers.
They claim to know God
Yet they regard their fellow humans as vermin
Vermin meant to be trampled under the feet.
In their confused state,
Love is but an elusive concept far beyond their reach.
II
The rich also cry
They accumulate so much wealth and riches
In their brazen destabilized state
They seek for happiness
They dole out a large chunk of their wealth
To the Pastors, Imams and Herbalists
Thinking that they can buy love
They fail to realize that love lies with them
But it lies elsewhere.
III
God is an epitome of love
So the Bible and the Qur'an says.
Every religion preaches love
Yet love seems far beyond their reach.
Many seek love, yet they fail in their search for it.
What many fail to realize is that- if God is love,
Then we are an embodiment of love
So love shouldn’t be beyond our reach
Rather it should be with us.
IV
God is love
Love is God
Money, riches and evil cannot buy love.
Love lies in a cool calm place,
A special repository designed by God to welcome LOVE
That place is no other place than our HEARTS.
Those who seek love are sure to find it
For it lies in their hearts
Waiting to be harnessed, waiting to be discovered.
It is elusive because most persons have failed
To open up their hearts to welcome and feel it
Open thy hearts to love today and let it love flow unhindered.
Categories:
imams, hope, life, love, god,
Form:
Free verse
armed with a plunger
he stares down into the
toilet bowl, as the waste
he’s just expelled
captivates him &
a whole swirl of
ideas comes flooding
like a parade of pummeling
tropical storms tearing at
the shore---
that all this was inside him &
now its not,
that all the nutrients the
body found no use for
are being flooded down & out
of their own accord,
that it all says something
about the supposed concept
of “free will,” when
no priests, ministers,
rabbis, mullahs or imams
are in any better of a position
when watching the urine
stream out of their member
straight down into that
Holy Bowl, which levels
all religions, all political
factions, all skirmishes
caused by personal romantic
involvements & afflictions,
all idiosyncratic fragmentations
of our psyches, all temper
tantrum moments of extreme
violence & all eons upon
eons of sloth-like lethargy,
with one crouching down
or standing up, in the event
of a bowel movement,
pressing out the sludge for
which the body itself decides
no necessity remains---
so humbled by the drama of
it all, so taken in by the
mighty flush, he awaits,
plunger in hand,
for the failure accompany the human
error involved
when the toilet had been
constructed, so that only a specific
amount of excrement & toilet
paper, can make its way down the
pipe---
with this plunger, he will exorcise
all the excreta, all the stool, all the
drippings, droppings & sweaty
fecal matter, that’s been deemed
without conscious consent
to be not worthy of this day, this
24 hour period, here in
sweet sweet evolution.
Categories:
imams, life,
Form:
Free verse
All prophets are Imam
All Imams are not prophet –
The prophets are pure-bred!
Categories:
imams, faith, philosophy, religion
Form:
Haiku
Destined we are curdle together by nature
Though at the twin rivers shore
Believing same will provoke harmony
Bridge on the rivers and wall of our minds
Let the power that be Strike balance
Sweet home now wilderness exile
King, Obis, Emirs, Pastors, Imams and likes stoop to stooge
Politicians dictate tune of bomb
And never wait for tone
When shall we learn to live Siamese like these yonder rivers?
I wept for my darling country
Categories:
imams, devotion,
Form:
Blank verse
Bridled pilgrim on tributary road
Sanctified route that Imams trode
Hoping cares and sorrows to unload
In Mecca's blessed, sanctified abode
Prayerful disciple dutifully abnegating world in part
Humbly following the scantily-provisioned cart
In contrition, taking alms from each, beneficent heart
Diligently brushing aside each mental block, earthen
rampart
Suffering the reproach of strangers with grace
Shouldering the stigma attached to foreign race
Showering kindness to each passed, nameless face
Seeking refuge in lowly shelter and amended space
Categories:
imams, dedication
Form:
Rhyme