[As the proud owner of a tiny lisp - in which my ‘R’s
sometimes come out a little more like ‘W’s - I think I’m safe to post this?
No offence intended.]
______________
He told her he soon would be leaving the army
“So give us a kiss, cos you’re sending me barmy.”
She said, “What’s your name, then I’ll give you a kiss,”
“I’m Fweddy Fweeman,” he said with a lisp
She gave him a kiss which filled him with glee
He said, “Let us go and sit under that twee.”
They sat in the shade and he said, “You’re so pwitty,
I’ll be old and gway before you, more’s the pity,
so would you go out with an old lisping twooper?”
And she said , “I would because you’re fimply fooper.”
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
Nineteen eighty four was late
Not quite when Orwell said
But slowly and in increments
They are getting in your head
They're trying to change your thinking.
Quite slowly day by day
Affecting how you view the world
And, controlling what you say
You're not allowed to voice your thoughts
'cause folk might get offended
Even though they are innocent
With no offence intended
This modern world is changing
Surreptitiously it seems
It won't be long before they start
Policing all our dreams
They'll cart you off and lock you up
It'll be no use complaining
Then put you in room 101
for thought police retraining
When there’s more writers that write
Than readers that read
Does the future seem bright
Or,
Perhaps poetry’s in need?
Was the melody mangled,
when the words lost their beat?
Was the common man strangled,
by the highbrow box seat?
_____________________________
Once weaved upon a well formed path
Before structure fell, in disarray.
Prose a casualty to a hectic world?
Precious time has claimed its prey.
Shall verse be trapped inside a card
Twisted inside an ad campaign
Power of words eternally scarred
Excepting in song, tinged in disdain.
Did amateur poets misuse their voice?
An internet pillage of chance.
Nothing to savour, digest and rejoice
Divide and subtract, but never enhance.
Will mankind once again enjoy,
subtle pleasures of the poem?
Will a modern poet attain celebrity,
as did the greats once held a throne?
*No offence intended. Just a thought piece
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