Musings on Machine gun diplomacy and Lebanon
http://english.aljazeera.net/NR/exeres/24F4810C-61CB-4284-AB2B-CCA786434016.htm
... and all that kept whirling round in my head was that stupid song by Slim Shady ..."would the real slim shady please stand up, please stand up, pleeeeease stand up!" because I am confused as to Jordan's position on this issue. As for the wider political dimension of this disgusting situation in our midst, I have found a piece of prose is always a better way to express my mood:
Moab Musings on a Sunday
Son is in Beirut right now, up in the mountains of Faraya,
Where you will find a place of tranquility
on any given Sunday.
A meeting place where the young and beautiful people go
to vanquish the plight of the elders.
Enjoy your time with your friends, son
And ease my anxiety.
For an ill wind is blowing off the sea
that does not bode well for my sanity;
Go bunker down on the snowy slopes
away from this realm of ignominy:
of gunship diplomacy and demented foreign politics
that play out in the yard of the Araby.
And as I mourn for the children of Gaza
the dead babes in the arms of their mothers
I strain to find the reason why;
why this theatre of the absurd;
the macabre act of Israeli terror
committed in the name of the Chosen
as the Zionists rub their hands with glee
at all this division by proxy.
So remain oblivious, Son,
at least for the time being;
enjoy your youth and high spirits;
your innocence and faith
your learning;
your god given rights to life;
to peace;
... a mother's hope and yearning.
J
... and all that kept whirling round in my head was that stupid song by Slim Shady ..."would the real slim shady please stand up, please stand up, pleeeeease stand up!" because I am confused as to Jordan's position on this issue. As for the wider political dimension of this disgusting situation in our midst, I have found a piece of prose is always a better way to express my mood:
Moab Musings on a Sunday
Son is in Beirut right now, up in the mountains of Faraya,
Where you will find a place of tranquility
on any given Sunday.
A meeting place where the young and beautiful people go
to vanquish the plight of the elders.
Enjoy your time with your friends, son
And ease my anxiety.
For an ill wind is blowing off the sea
that does not bode well for my sanity;
Go bunker down on the snowy slopes
away from this realm of ignominy:
of gunship diplomacy and demented foreign politics
that play out in the yard of the Araby.
And as I mourn for the children of Gaza
the dead babes in the arms of their mothers
I strain to find the reason why;
why this theatre of the absurd;
the macabre act of Israeli terror
committed in the name of the Chosen
as the Zionists rub their hands with glee
at all this division by proxy.
So remain oblivious, Son,
at least for the time being;
enjoy your youth and high spirits;
your innocence and faith
your learning;
your god given rights to life;
to peace;
... a mother's hope and yearning.
J
1 Comments:
wonderful poetry, full of feeling and emotion - love it! T
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