Best Mullahs Poems
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!
The USA is not perfect
never has been
never will be
Unlike Russia, which has
‘no alcohol problem’
‘no civil disobedience’
‘no LGBTQ populace’
Not to mention no truth in the
information it disseminates to
suckers around the world...
Yes, indeed, the USA is not perfect
not with George Washington
the 1700’s slaveholder (gasp!)
on our currency, not to mention
Susan B. Anthony, who was proudly
anti-abortion, pro-life – for shame, for shame!
~ Our ignominious past consigns us to eternal penance ~
Unlike Libya, where an ancient slave trade flourishes
to this very day: Muslims enslaving black Christians
which does not fit the media’s narrative
so most people aren't aware of it
and the rest don’t care about it
Unlike Afghanistan, where the repression of the 'Old Taliban'
is now fully in place under the ‘Newer, More Gentle Taliban’
or Syria, whose butcher of a ruler has made refugees of half his
citizenry, gassing thousands of others with chemical weapons…
But yes, indeed, the USA is not perfect
Never has been
Never will be
Let us forever grovel in abasement to all the tin-horn dictators of the world
not to mention our home-grown squadrons of regressive radical progressives
Down with Jefferson, Lincoln, Grant, Teddy Roosevelt, Truman and Reagan!
Up with Omer, Tlieb, Pressley, Sanders, AOC, Corey Bush, Schiff, Nadler...
Long live Maduro, Castro, the Mullahs, Xi, bin Salman, Abbas, Gaddafi et al!
Lies are Truths Might Makes Right Facts are Opinions
1 9 8 4
My sisters and I are slaves,
Slaves to a harmful culture
That forces us to marry before we are grown,
At age 14
At age 9
At age 6
At age 5
Our mothers cannot vote
Nor can they save us
From the fearful and evil old mullahs
Who would turn my generation into suicide bombers,
Nor can they save us from the men
Who would have us before puberty,
Who force us into the terribly hot clothes,
Who punish us for being female,
Who deny us education,
Who would stomp on our smallest wish.
http://100percentfedup.com/6-year-old-muslim-girl-forced-to-marry-to-settle-islamic-family-feud-video/
Most significant agreements or treaties
Employ important legalistic terms like
Inspections
Verifications
Notifications
or Null-and-Void immediately
Yet considering, O Pundits,
The withdrawal by the US
from the agreement
Over Iran's nuclear pyre:
Between the Mullahs and President Trump
~ Who's the bigger liar?
Story of Afghanistan
The barren land of my birthplace
Green at times but screening a rocky face
Known for thousands of years for its warrior race
Let me tell you the truth,
No one really wanted this “space”.
Up until two lions began prying around
Initially, just fooling around
Afterwards, casting off their cannon sound
Resembling the 6th night of an infant’s fête
Building their castles, and so began the burial grounds.
The lions pledged to crush the other
With a master plan
Dividing the blood brothers
Such was the instruction of the queen mother
As the clans clashed and killed one another.
The chiefs were swallowed by the promise of gold
The mullahs were swapped for the hollow soul
The seniors by the fire recounted and foretold
The purpose for the lion’s vehemence
This story definitely in time will unfold.
The old grew timeworn
Waiting for their young ones to return home
The teenagers free born
Screamed out of their mosques’ domes
Come and join us in this struggle
Faced with the crusaders of the Church of Rome,
But little did they know,
No one will return but the maimed men to a funeral home.
The sturdier lion won the combat
But what has become of my Afghanistan
The wolf in a sheep’s disguise
Has spoiled my jade paradise
My heart denies it but I may have bombed my youthful chums,
This is now a global land-dwelling for bums and slums!
The lion wishes to be unveiled this time
So he promises to take the last dime
After all it pays to cooperate in war crimes!
He roars in a deafening cry
I bring Democracy to this land
With loads of cash in one hand
A whip in the back hand--forgetting the long years of perfidy
I now declare and demand
This is the new Promised Land.
A woman of this realm is exposed with a promise
She is liberated by democracy
Famous on national publications like the story of Pocahontas
She’s affirmed independent and agreed to arise out of the darkness
As the saga is read to the United States Congress
She exhales
And anticipates the lion’s hunger
Waiting for the day when she will be veiled, unveiled, and then veiled again
Not by ordinary men
But by inscription of law.
Thank you for sealing the decree!
I went looking for God
in grandest cathedral,
in splendour of gold,
and crosses and statues
and rooves overwhelming
and priests ever-damning
and nuns ever-loving,
so wishing the children would learn
and be good.....
I went looking for God
in a golden dome,
where the mullahs were wailing
and people loud-hailing
their message, devotion
their women in headscarves
their young ones a-dreaming
seventy two virgins
if only, if only....
I went looking for God
in temple of ages,
of people forsaken
and praying, oh praying
that tomorrow might bring peace,
that they might be known,
that their children may die no more.....
I went looking for God,
I fasted, I chanted,
I shut my eyes tight,
I crossed my legs hurting,
my brain ever-reaching
for light ever-distant......
I searched East, I searched West,
above and below,
my time and my will
was no longer my own...
But do you know where I found God?
I sat on a hilltop
and felt the wind beckon,
I breathed the Divine in the trees
and the earth and the sweet-scented
breeze of the autumnal haze.....
I gave up all searching
and sat in the middle
of hustle and bustle,
and felt the sweet stillness
unfolding before me......
I walked through the chaos
and saw a hand outstretched
a haunted-eyed face
in a desolate scene.
And in those ragged eyes
I saw God looking back at me,
unmistakable mirror
of my own sweet divinity.....
I looked into my heart
saw my sweet, gentle child,
felt my energy sweep through my chakras,
expand from my crown.....
And God lived in the joy and the bliss
that followed my days full of love....
When I stopped looking for God
I realised
that wherever I looked
there it was.
And it was Love.
Two throws of tens and let the dice roll,
that some may live, and some may die,
and at death, are comforted by soul’s mantle light.
For deep beneath a vast ocean of lies,
that have always foretold a promised place -
where no righteous man or woman have ever been …
Is where bright stars never rise or fall,
and wide rivers that cease to ebb and flow,
where angel’s trumpets neither sound nor blow -
Is where blindness shadows endless tears,
and jihadist dreams that fall on deafened ears,
where lost Caliphates, Mullahs and prostrate Emirs …
Is where emptiness has no regrets,
a naked silence, shattered monuments,
where four seasons weep, and all Heaven ends -
for their faith’s reward - is abandonment.
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 11
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Much less Institutions Parties Power Groups
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
Kings tyrants prophets may under-estimate
The will of the People to upset their hopes
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Around rulers sycophants proliferate
Brahmins Mullahs Rabbis Mahatheros Popes
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
Intrigue owe allegiance inordinate
Find forgiveness for evil deeds lethal troops
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Rulers shared power with sp’ritual Prelate
Don’t religions all jockey like power groups
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
When the individual’s battered by the State
Turn not to Justice rather see dashed your hopes
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake- Part Six
Awake! Dour Dreamer! And draw the curtain of benumbing clouds
Fairies hover by ears to whisper mantras dispelling doubts
Already unheeding magpies cluck rudely tongue-in-beak
And trans-continental flights from Orly pierce through rain clouds
Good hour or two has gone by since Metro Lac broke loose
Gardiens de paix drive into the buckle of her tresses noose
Barnacle geese strut at her feet preening proud feathers sleek
Mullahs wash their feet by fountains gushing djellaba loose
Murmuring Berber prayers from cowed heads rise to the skies
While lyceen innocence dries up on loud tutored lies
Do hotel beds lost in arbours get bought for sleep or trysts
Stompings on her esplanade nose-bridge: she frets and defies
Wake the dreamer of unwholesome dreams and set the hour right!
How long lone and stricken chained beneath the main tight!
“What ails thee beneath thy furrowed frown! O! Prisoner of sin!”
The tent-maker’s son still roams with galaxies drifting plight!
“Lift that gorgeous head just once: let us see those laser flashes
That make this lake look thunder-struck even through sun-glasses!”
Fitful sparrows in hedges and eaves seek not to share her thoughts
Oblivious Mall shoppers let slip lone tears from her gashes.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Locked in the pages of a book
I find sanctuary, a quiet nook,
Where I often retreat and find
the kindest heart, the vilest mind.
Whenever I feel like getting away
From the rigors of life on any day,
I step through the portals of a book
into a fantasy world and take a look:
At the mythical realms of dragons
Fairies, nymphs, demons, gorgons,
At the dreams, adventures and magic
of life and death purpose and logic;
Folktales of love, miracles, covenants
Of knights, heroes and revenants,
Of saints, seers, demigods and mystics,
Priests, pundits, mullahs and clerics.
A vast chronicle of betrayal of trust
of reverence, innocence and lust,
Of deceit, debauchery and debacles
of witches, vampires and oracles.
Deeds of dictators, despots, czars
The chaotic world of wasteful wars,
swarming with malicious mobs,
fawners, snivelers and slimy slobs.
Be it poetry, mystery or tragedy
Racy romance, fantasy, comedy,
Oh, just give me but a book any
I will forgo a damsel’s company.
In the Library contest by Isaiah Zerbst
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
While we sit on our rumps and curse about Trump,
Assad murders thousands with chemical weapons dumps.
While we fuss, fume, and fret about gender change,
Iran's mullahs ramp up plutonium to nuclear range.
While we rally for movie starlets on the casting couch,
Putin cuts down opponents with a poison touch.
It's normal to moan a bit and even complain,
But when so many are slain by bully rulers in vain,
It's time to wake up and do the right thing:
Time to reign in Assad, the mullahs, and Putin;
Time to call out those against whom we should be rootin'!
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.
An Alternative View of Iran
Once I was in Iran the Shah ruled and his informers were everywhere.
Then came the revolution, much blood, some of it innocent, into
the streets. USA had kept the Shah in power and crushed democratic
opposition when Mossadegh tried to tame the international oil industry,
he was dumped and the dreadful Shah family returned to power.
As a result of this radical Mullahs took power and we have to live with our
mistake. Yet Iran is more democratic than Israel, they tolerate the Jewish
community there and let them live in peace. Iran today lives under
the shadow the threat of Israel´s nuclear menace, Israel will never accept
any powers those are as equal to hers. It is odd, is it not the sitting Israel
government is using the language of Nazi Germany before it
invaded Poland. I t strikes me that unless we tame Israel and her excesses
she will, deluded as she is, destroy the world as we know it. Yet stupid as
we are we will be on the wrong side of this massacre.
Mike Pence for President
always made sense
to me
A man of rare conviction
in this land no longer brave
and lately not free
He reserves kisses for his wife
tithes his income to charity
At times of crisis, like January 6
He stands up tall for his country
As Vice-President he's met and measured
the likes of Putin, the Mullahs, Kim and Xi
A man who's balanced budgets as
Governor of Indiana a time or three
A man with a concrete plan for 'Our Country 'Tis of Thee'
who articulates as well as did John F. Kennedy
Yet when folks talk about the next President
they tell me Mike Pence has no chance
Pity...