toys of the taliban

Boys of the Taliban

Where is there an Arab Freud
to study what his men enjoyed
in view of what they all employed
since real life gets them so annoyed?

Freaks and weirdos, all repressed,
sodomites, with some cross-dressed,
see their hidden women as an alien pest.

As their culture shows itself to be so void,
by their own hands they will be destroyed.

Rejecting Islam would be best.

that's the news

What's happening around the world?
Fighting rages, bombs are hurled?
Diplomats exchanging views?

The United Nations
shows great patience
with anyone but Jews.

And that's the news.

again

spinning through the void
the days that we've enjoyed
cycle round again

once more each name and number
interrupts our slumber
clicking off each midnight just like when

spinning through the void
the days that we've enjoyed
cycle round again

poem for the end

end of a season
end of a year
end of a life
nothing to fear

where do we go
what do you care
what do you know
until you're there

begin again or end it all
we'll find out when the shadows fall

home again

who displaced the native people
who have come back home again?

why should we be asked for reasons
renewing all our ancient seasons
as we celebrated them back then?

welcome nowhere else, we understand
we have always been the people of this land
we have this one place on earth at our command

those who claim by right of conquest
must acknowledge now we've won
their own logic says they're done

if they live in peace among us they will prosper
if they live in hate they'll have to leave

spring into war

when enemies surround us
and admit they mean to pound us
it makes no sense to pray they'll go away

it might be more efficient
to find out where they're deficient
and pound them there right now without delay

so if syria still has hopes
of descending golan slopes
then i know that they are dopes
who deserve whatever pain might come their way

raid map

the snakes are slithering out of their holes
they tunnel beneath the homes and roads
they live with the worms and bugs and moles
and swallow the rats and lizards and toads

they want a place to call their own
to hiss and bite in venomous glee
they hide inside an old dry bone

i want them far away from me

the bbc lies

From bad to worse, or from worse to bad?

the bbc lies gracefully
distorting news most tastefully
providing all the views we need
once thoughtfulness has gone to seed
and anti-semites denigrate us master-racefully

but al-jazeerah fills the gap
replacing insults with a slap
reminding us "i needed that!"
well, keep it underneath your hat
that all of them are full of crap

the dragon that lives in the sea

Be careful when you walk beside still waters;
You never know what lurks within the depths.
The snake that's swimming just below the surface
Is the unimportant offspring of the dragon in the sea.

As it rises to confront us, steaming, slashing
With the spines along its back at passing clouds,
Its jaws engulf the pier, the fishermen are splashing
Through the surging waves that drown the near-by crowds.

Now the shore is littered with the screaming, bleeding victims,
Who survived their wounds sustained in that first ravaging attack;
The dragon wasn't even trying to inflict them,
But he will when soon he rushes up the beaches, coming back!

But what churns the river's edge?
Black and white, it leaps and charges,
With the tall, thick dorsal fins proclaiming:

Killer whales approach!
The sight brings hope to puny humans,
Faced with nature's retribution for our sins!

As they chase away the reptilian interloper,
The saviors of our sea-front
Stop and smile in their own way,

And they promise to come back,
When we have seals to feed them,
In gratitude for how they saved the day!

resurrection

wickedly wickedly
slithering sideways
down the slope
the ragged old rattlesnake
shedding its skin
snakes live forever
didn't you know
when they get old and slow
tired and blind
they burst out in colors renewed
and leave the old life behind

fog

The fog comes in on panther’s paws,
Splashing through the puddles as it lopes into the town,
Its hot breath hissing as it suffocates the valleys,
Sinking teeth into the silence as it wraps around the moon.

Muffling the lights and snuffling incessantly,
The ghostly panther pants as morning breezes rise,
The sun comes up, and people stir, mists vanish;
The panther’s supple shape dissolves before our eyes.

cold

an early evening
sunset's rush to put an end
to ever-shorter days

a silent moan
a scarcely whispered sigh
suffering subsides

a cheerful flash
raw color splashed across
a chilling landscape