I don't remember TRUMAN
And very little of ISENHOWER.
I do remember KENNEDY. "Ask not...";
And a lot about JOHNSON. "Great Society".
I remember NIXON. "I'm not a crook".
I remember FORD who pardoned Nixon;
And CARTER who cried his best to make
things right, and also said he wouldn't lie.
I remember REAGAN. "Tear down these walls".
I remember BUSH 1 and the short Iraqi War.
I remember CLINTON and his sex scandal.
I remember BUSH 2, who toppled Sadam.
I remember OBAMA and the capture of Osama
bin Laden. And I remember TRUMP'S first term
And COVID 19. I remember BIDEN and his agenda.
Trump reigns presently, making many changes.
A Friday in October
This morning was green and mild, with
no sand, in my eyes, wind from Morocco blew
Once, I was in Casablanca, I bought a pair
of traditional slippers with long toes
it is what one does at the old market
The TV man spoke about the weather
said Africa, which is a continent and many
other things
A farmer in the next village had killed his
wife, for a woman getting married
is a perilous activity, the lottery of life
is littered with unlucky females
In Mosul, Iraqi officers arW paraded on
the TV. Why? I don't know, I think it is about
war, but like splendid in green uniform
we see a tank fire at something over the
horizon, and everyone applauses
My neighbor has a nagging wife who's
need, turns hysterical for the lack of it
when she has one of her turns, the man
saddle up his mule, goes for a ride into
the woods of happy memories
Usually by somebody of age
Holding another‘s neck hostage,
Most of the time breathing downs that neck
But fully sure the drama would wreck…
Being awake while the world is asleep
To keep enacting the Emotionally Deep,
When time and space permit
Begin to love vows vomit…
No distinguishing a lawn, stranger to a broom
From a pre-paid hotel room.
It’s a directive from vain flesh
Like an Iraqi Muslim settling for a Christian Welsh:
Easily tender caress of another’s hair
As soon, faster, crazier breathing of air
And predictable knot-tight embraces of a shoulder
By the now sexually bolder.
A helpless leaning on same for salvation
Sadly, The Good food lost to salivation.
Millions bring closer its expiry date,
Expertly foretelling when it shuts its gate:
Merely a clinging to a declared heart throb
While one still wants to the truth rob
Amorous Love is another saleable good on your shelf
You would market yourself.
Always coming in different shapes
Off and on supportive of rapes
And gaze long at it
One to arrive at views split.
(For more information about U.S.S. Missouri
visit www.ussmissouri.org/learn-the-history)
About Miss U.S.S. Missouri,
Or affectionately, "Mighty Mo!"
Second World War surrender documents
Were signed on her in Bay Tokyo.
She was launched from the Naval Shipyard
In Brooklyn in 1944.
Miss Missouri is not the one
Who chose to battle in war.
She was invaluable in 1986
In Operation Earnest Will.
In the 90's she returned to the Middle East
To fight Iraqi targets still.
A protector, a fighter for the Navy,
Like a mother to her brood,
She kept all within her safe and secure
Until their journey would conclude.
In between her missions
She was granted time to rest.
She'd face more action, yet again,
Her frame and strength put to the test...
She could have been transformed
Into a luxury cruise liner.
But she's so much more significant!
A Museum - War Memorial - War survivor!
Written 18th October 2021
For A Noteworthy Ship contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Night of long knives
Twitter is going nuclear.
PC rules.
Serene Putin
Camara's smile at him
He winks.
Aleppo is ruined
Captive civilians killed
Rebels have gone.
Mosul and ISIS
Iraqi army of quitters
Behind sand dunes quiver
Justice is blind and sleeping,
Lady Liberty is weeping;
We are lying to ourselves
about the state of our society;
Lurking like an ugly word
broadcasted upon a neon sign,
saying ‘Are you sure it’s safe for you?
The people there are all Black.’
Under the guise of inclusion
May the fifth can’t sound Mexicano
‘Be careful with this party,
it can’t be called ‘Cinco de Mayo’.
Lingering like a broken refrain,
We’re really all faking;
Oh, we call it ‘Mediterranean’
we can’t say Afghan,Iraqi or Iranian;
The country is reeling;
Every single one of us bleeding,
to show each other we are all the same.
Again a Friday night approached,
With attending a gathering in the mosque
There was a discussion on a country
And there were refreshments too!
And the speaker mentioned,
For his war-torn country of Iraq
The proportion of a doctor and patients
precisely is 0.85:1000, to be exact.
There were delicious Iraqi dishes
I could not remember those names
Delighted we served our appetite
Returned home, quite full.
I saw a friend's post on the net,
about self -analyzing own symptoms
And treating on one's own, it's terrible I inferred.
And I realized, I am juxtaposing reality again, there.
The only viable solution, for now, maybe.
torn middle eastern attire
an orphaned heart on fire
houses turn to rubble
gotta bomb them on them on the double
who wiped the mossad prints off nine eleven
every body knows angels cries from seven to eleven
our hell is the wrong side of your heaven
the lizard queen had uncle sam driven
the lord red child demanded israhell should be given
from cocain bush to moron bush
come tim osman give me a treacherous smoosh
silverstein where have you been
there's a torn Iraqi spleen
afghanistan fell for c sea spin span
red zio jew out only to have the blue
kissinger brezinsky and their plastic jihad
time to put in chinese glutin in putin the man
now syria libya and egypt here comes pain
gotta love the freedom rain
clinton whispered to somalia I'll bomb hope
obama said yes we can pounded syria like a mad man
putin cried remembered chechnya missed the fun i want in
the orange trump fixed his hair hump yes let's bomb again
Israel took a selfie with saudia humanity couldn't erase the blood stain
oh middle eastern child
empty bag for a pillow
their magic is mellow
Tamer Hossam
I was haunted all night by your memory
The moon sang its melody all night
At times glowing, at times dimming
The candle of grief flickered all night
A perfume kept changing its garments
A picture kept singing all night
The breeze stealing the scent of roses
Told many enchanting stories of our love
A hope bestowed solace to my heart
A craving agonised me all night
Travelling through the memory lane
I lived and died all night.
Mohammad Yamin Iraqi, Sintra, Portugal 1/10/ 2018
October Friday
This morning was green and a mild wind from
Morocco blew I was in Casablanca once
bought a pair of slippers it is what one does
when going to the market there.
The weather- man on TV said Africa, but Africa
is a continent and many other things.
A man in the next village had killed his wife it
is for women getting married a perilous activity
the lottery of life is littered unlucky females.
The sun shines over Mosul too and Iraqi officers
are paraded on TV, they are having a break now
before the big offensive, sounds like propaganda,
we see tanks fire at something over the horizon
but where is the enemy?
400 hundred IS fighters killed by bombing not
a word about civilian casualties we reserve that
for Aleppo where, they are actually counted
and given a name DEAD!
My neighbour has a nagging wife she needs sex or
Be made a fuzz of lack of it makes her scream a lot
and when she does he saddle up his mule and goes
for a ride into the woods of happy memories.
Somewhere there's a Master Sergeant
who watched Iraqi oil being loaded
on a tanker While Bush denied
we went to war for decayed riches.
How's that for misguided love affairs
We stripped Iraq down to her bare essentials
Made her sign a pre-nup and dumped
her body in a trunk.
We sped away fast.
A honeymoon
undestined to last.
We say the past is the past
but I wonder why it lingers
like lingerie and Abu Ghraib photos.
The smell of garbage lying in alley gutters
sweat’s scent mixed with her
Frankincense
Sounds of gunfire, from a wedding
party maybe?
Her hijab slightly ripped
as she fought to retain her gift.
that oily residue left in my mouth
from absconded kisses
dearly departed bliss
Iraqi stains,
are all that remain
Politicians are lying,
Poor people are dying,
But our stocks keep on rising,
So we don’t care
The Arab Spring withers,
As ISIS guerrillas
Bomb Iraqi civilians,
But we don’t care
Fake elections are funded
By big money plundered
From the countries of others,
But we don’t care
Education is failing,
As jobs are sent sailing,
But big banks are prevailing,
So we don't care
We sell guns to Israelis,
Who kill Palestine babies,
To keep settlement "safety,"
But we don't care
Global warming is growing,
Yet oil fields are showing
No real signs of slowing,
But we don’t care
Politicians are lying,
Our democracy’s dying,
But there’s no use in trying,
When we simply don’t care.
The Iraq war was illegal, unjustified and needless,
The country should never have been invaded;
It was an assertion of distrust and disconnection,
And diplomacy talks should never have been evaded.
With nuclear weapons still functional,
The east and dictatorial regimes need trust,
To educate them about democratic government,
And direct them towards the free world’s must.
Representative governance is the must,
The electorate of the people must preside,
Over matters of community and association,
To wield out what’s required by the inside.
Blair showed impetuousness and recklessness,
When he did not trust the Iraqi government,
When they promised they had no weapons,
Of mass destruction for a western armament.
Russia is now talking, maybe acting up,
And we must interact with her warmly,
‘Cos it is the west that destroyed the respect,
When Iraq was impinged upon coldly.
Scripted
Euphuism
and "I decrees"
High school
dropout~
six degrees.
the slight
deviation
of parted
lips laced
with lipstick
tasting temptation
trailing off on collars
painting necks
and sensitive subjects
the way LSD
creates psychedelic
sightings
I feel feelings
all over me.
Snapping fingers
trying to remember a
word, what word,
what word
-what word?
Her kiss created
jazz, Ignited
Ursa Minor
reflecting light
off the moon
and like a wolf
I wanted to
consume
the morsels she laid
along a hallway
to the bedroom door.
Hearts race
dive in
disaster.
she controls my
commander's
override
and squeezes
the trigger,
ever so gently
a fatted calf slit
viewed through
smoke.
an Iraqi
baking bread
before prayer
Crosses
adorn mosques.
Sniper's scope,
a throat, gulp.
In blood I wrote:
heaven must'n
have means
to erect
war memorials;
no angel feuds,
No gold or silver,
oil or riches,
just a place
flowing with
green pastures
going no place
particular, well,
maybe one,
~~a kiss~~
that births a son
another war begun.
The Iraqi desert was blowing wind
The bullet tore into my heart
My Commander, she had but one arm
She pulled me to the ground
Holding me tight she saw
I would not make the night
So she did what any lover would
She held me tight
Whispered, "soldier I am with you till the end"
My last thought
Was I died in her arm
As her tears drops mixed with mine
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