Palestine

Tags

Balfour pact, democracy, Freedom, ISIS, israel, palestine, poem, poetry, politics, Sykes–Picot, veto, war

 

I am but an open wound
I’ve been cursed and doomed
My children were abandoned
Forgotten, and in darkness stranded

Hamas is nowhere in sight
They have lost the will to fight
And Fatah is only around
Where money can be found

In my streets children are prosecuted
Judged by the enemy, and on scene executed
Few bullets then left to bleed to death
While they stand to watch his parting breath

He was out in the open standing not too far-
From soldiers that hid, inside an armored car
He was armed with small rocks
They had Teflon on, machine guns and glocks

He lay there, in a blood soaked jersey
He left his hand up, but wasn’t begging for mercy
Another innocent victim, of decades of abuse
A tragedy that hardly ever make the news

Then we were told
About this nine years old
To the interrogation room she was dragged
Just because of what she might have bagged

And while the whole world is in toil
Lost in a fight over gold, power and oil
They say “we are here to help’ but not one man
Mentions how or why my strife began

I didn’t seek to change my dictator
Or wanted to install a traitor
Nor wanted to cleanse the minority
As a colony “survival”, was my main priority

Freedom soon, that’s what I was told
But behind the scene I was being cruelly sold
The new League of Nations gladly signed the deal
Balfour pact signatures and the Sykes-picot seal

My allies my cousins
Some died playing dozens

Some proudly died in battle
The rest gave up and joined the cattle

With time some were bent
Some got caught up in wealth
The others were bought
Some just got simply caught

The wind of time with time blows
Now I am no more a noble cause
In a world plagued by a new manufactured crisis
A design by the eagle and its name is ISIS

Over years diplomacy couldn’t get me through
There was the Veto, the imperialists and the Zionists too
And those clans that claims to fight in my name
Turned to fight each other for wealth and fame

Now my children in the street
Masked faces and bare tender feet
Taking a stand against captivity
Willing to pay the price of liberty

On TV we’ll see few speakers
And the so called leaders
Trying to diffuse the movement
Talking about the peace talk improvement

All sides will lie, as they have always lied
They’ll lay more stabs, in the back of martyrs
Who lived, sacrificed, bled and died
Fighting only for, the freedom chapter
©FAT 2015

images credit to google images and their legal owners

Selective humanity

Tags

Austria, Czech republic, democracy, discrimination, equality, Germany, human rights, humanity, Hungary, Iceland, immigration, immigration crisis, ISIS, Islam, poem, poetry, Poland, politics, pope francis, refugees, Slovakia, Sweden, syrian refugees, the crusade, The Pope, war

Finally, what was forever thought is said
Discrimination horn is blown
Humanity is reduced to shred
And true colors are shown

A new soft crusade is rising
Somewhere out in the west
I dread the future counter uprising
Future storms and unrest

Slovakia to immigrants announced
We will only take you in
If your faith is denounced
For Islam is a sin

Hungary prime minister
Claims to defend Christianity
For Islam is sinister
And the utmost insanity

Poland screams it’s an infiltration
We will defend our boarder
These immigrants meet the qualification
Of a shady Islamic order

Czech Republic jumped on the wagon
Singing the same old song
Those bare feet they are dragging
Stands where they don’t belong

What happened to the freedom of religion?
The west have screamed for ages
A vision that was only written
In some torn out pages

What happened to the right of asylum?
What happened to the refugee convention?
Who are they to defile them?
Based on a prejudice conviction

The freedom that was preached and taught
The human rights, which was once fought for
To bended knees, have now been brought
And soon will lay dead on the floor

Denounce or go back to fate
Abandon your faith for shelter
And soon in a future date
They’ll go back to color, race and gender

Selective humanity in power
But that’s how it always been
The wrong faith, race and color
Is considered a sin

My faith lays in the people
Of the countries listed above
To tell the bigots we are all equal  –

And to show some love

ISIS is having a field day
Singing “we told you so
Human rights are just a play
And it doesn’t apply to you

We practice what we preach
Come on now sound the alarms
And victory we’ll reach
If we all go to arms

They colonized us for years
They gave our lands away
Then they’ve installed puppets and fear
But now in blood they’ll pay”

A fair argument for those in need
Those that had nothing to pack
But fear, hope and their blossoming seeds
After taming the mountain and seas
They were told “go back”

To those on the boarders I say
And myself I’ll quote
Don’t be a part of the play
That ISIS and the imperialists wrote

“Formal flags or different banners
Different countries and militia’s names
Same goals, different killing manners
In the end. They are all the same”

To the Germans, the Icelanders
Austrians and the people of Sweden
Your kindness to the outlanders
Have turned their exile, into the Garden of Eden

And a quick tip of the hat
To the Pope of Rome
Who said don’t let hope fall flat
And I’ll share my home

These events will leave few scars
And now History clock rewound
I pray to Allah beyond the stars
To heal this bleeding wound

It’s god’s land which man can’t inherit
Everything but him will perish that’s our life design
Then God will inherit Earth from corner to corner
Immigrants we are and travelers within it
And deep in every man’s bloodline
Resides an immigrant and a foreigner
©FAT 2015

*image rights (AP Photo/Darko Bandic)

Dear Mr. Ban ki moon i am sick of your concerns

Tags

ban ki moon, Burma, human rights, human trafficking, poem, poetry, politics, refugees, united nation, war

Thank you so much
Dear MR Ban Ki-moon
For your support and such
And your continuous concern

Many diseases with no remedies
And the ukrain-russia crisis
Three millions Syrian refugees
Iranian militias, Hezbollah and ISIS

Funny how people are still dying
From hunger and thirst
And you are not even trying
To lift that curse

If poverty was a disease
That could infect the rich
There’d be a remedy with ease
Aint that a bitch

Go ahead scream and shout
Please show more concern
I hope it makes you feel better about
What you daily earn

Non taxed 909 dollars per day
Travel expenses aside
Tripled if you travel away
And a free fancy ride

Your family have tasted poverty
And have fled a war
They Left behind all their property
Before you became a star

A puppet in every situation
A parrot at most
Created to please the league of nation
Sadly at all costs

Still in Burma massacres occur
In Palestine and in Africa too
And soon again Darfur
And it’s all the same to you

And I am sure you’ve been told
About countless rapes in Iraq and Syria
Where women are bought and sold
And soon it will extend to Libya

Immigrations isn’t on your list
Nor sex trafficking I’m afraid
It should be left alone for the best
For it’s a rich man’s trade

The first is the best scapegoat
For those who own planes and boats
The latter won’t stand in court
For it’s a rich man’s trade and sport

Thank you so much
Dear MR Ban Ki-moon
For your support and such
And your continuous concern

Go ahead scream and shout
Please show more concern
I hope it makes you feel better about
What you daily earn

To our tragedy and misery
Your concerns are mere insults
Empty words that will be history
And can never achieve results
Finally, who can blame you?
When you are exactly doing
What you are paid to do

©FAT 2015

A scribble of an imperialist

Tags

africa, immigration, imperialism, Nigel Farage, poem, poetry, politics, redskins, refugee, slavery, society

An imperialist I am
No regrets no shame
Time have changed a lot
And so did my game

Carrying a regalia
to Australia

I have enslaved I have invaded
Those only armed with spear and spades
My own bad seeds I have migrated
Armed with rifles and blades

Aborigines will do better under my reign
I have a lot to give
For years they’ll resist the chains
Then they’d just want to live

Africa, beat the drum
Here I come..

A missionary of sort
A general and the crown’s envoy
A nurse and preacher drunk on port
And an army convoy

A whip is what we brought
To trade for your gold
Actually on a second though
We’ll take what could be sold

Kill all the elephants you see
Ivory makes a great souvenir
Raid all the chocolate trees
And leave nothing out there

Take the artifacts and gold
Take diamonds. Copper and coal
Take young women and leave the old
And as for the men just take them all

health and education I have restricted
thou shall not read is what I’ll breach
my reign will remain protected
as long as knowledge, is out of reach

Carry all what we can
On these sailing ships
Every able woman and man
And our guns and whips

display their history in our galleries
display their kind in human zoos
for our victories and the good memories
allow them to sing the blues

In the high seas lets venture
May America be an adventure

What a massive land
Free for the taking
these trusting tribes and bands
are so mistaking

they are teaching us to survive this winter
they are giving us food and supplies
when the warm days enter
the truce no more applies

by the greater good creed
we will raid, destroy and kill
and to satisfy our greed
we will shoot at will

There are not much of them left now
Hiding in few number, haunted by fear and hunger
Put them in reservations, if they accept and bow
And then unleash, the redskins bounty hunters

Now that we are at ease
Behold our creation
Built by the slaves and the Chinese
On the graves of the native Indians nation

Now to tame the beast
Let’s ride east

The ottomans we’ll bury
And the sick man of Asia
The land of spices and curry
Will be a part of our great fantasia

We’ll get rid of the Zionist Jews
And give the Arab nation a cancer
We’ll pay the Nazi’s dues
And Palestine is the answer

So quick to believe so quick to trust
Mere Bedouins they are with a violent god
Controlled by pride and ruled by lust
Their greed runs deep and is thicker than blood

What a chance we’ve blown, If only we had known
About the oil that we couldn’t have seen
They would have been now a day a part of the throne
Singing every day ‘’ god save the queen ‘’

After sixty years I was awaken
To realize I was mistaking

Dear lord forgive my sins
And I pray the people will do too
All my previous wins
Took me away from you

I see all the lands I’ve conquered
Suffers hunger and poverty
Their fate I wish I have not altered
Stealing their ancestor’s pride and property

My grandsons now, so strong so young
And they have mastered the trading skills
They replaced the whip with a conning tongue
And along the tongue a license to kill

They still rule by fear
And they’ll hold them up
Raise them above their peers
Until their payment stops

An enemy after an enemy
They will create and create
Then they’ll come as the remedy
If they bit the bait

Al-Qaida then Iran
And lately ISIS
And the oldest plan
The Arab Shia Sunni crisis

And Africa is still the mine
Diamond, ivory and chocolate too
Children on the production line
Ebola, nuclear wastes and 10 types of flu

Famine and drought
War lords and pharmaceuticals experiment
But what is the fuss about
It’s their fate and predicament

The grandsons of our former slaves
Now seeks our shore
In small boats they ride the wailing waves
Just to die before

Closing our boarder is the only solution
According to the likes of Nigel Farage
They are not worth a fair prosecution
It’s not our fault they’ve chased a mirage

Jihadists and poverty are the only outcome
And UK should not even spend a pound
The Polish are invading UK and soon more will come
Greeks, Syrians and others are midway inbound

Put their miseries in dispute
Accept only whom we see fit
Disregard that they are the fruit
Of the world that we’ve built

For what we call failed states
We shouldn’t pay and care
To each their own I state
It’s their own affair

Bygones be bygones to the criminal and victim
And what have been done is done
I pray our children one day find the wisdom
The courage and strength to replace the gun

To learn how to take and give
To let live and to empathize
To learn how to forgive
And how to sympathize

To stop making excuses
For those interested in their own gain
Those whom exploits and abuses
Our fears, needs and pain

An imperialist I was born
I was proud of my factions
My sins I have proudly worn
Along with my actions

If I only I have seen
What we’ve came to today
I wouldn’t have been
The evil in this play

God will forgive and people will do too
Those who regret remorse and then repent
My sins I’ll carry I’ll leave the rest for you
A life healing rebuilding, is, a life well spent,,,,

©FAT 2015

a rich man’s game ,, on live pigeon shooting

Tags

against animal cruelty, animal cruelty, animal rights, humanity, life, live piegon shooting cruelty, poem, poetry

Upon sunrise I sing
And I pray for luck
Then I spread my wings
And join the flock

Upon sunset they came
While we sat to rest
I sought the sky to claim
Before they cast their nets

I fell in their web
With the rest of my peers
A cage is my next step
Then my ultimate fear

To be the helpless prey
In a rich man’s game
I wish i died yesterday
No regrets no shame

They’ll hold me by one wing
They will swing me around
They’ll swing and swing
Then i am thrown to ground

They must be certain that
I cannot seek some tree
Rich men won’t pay for that
If I escape or flee

I limp on the grass
With broken bones and more
Alas alas
Soon I’ll be no more

I want to rest real quick
I can’t stand at all
But they will scream and kick
Until I slowly crawl

I see my kens, bleeding everywhere
Some grasp for water, some grasp for air
Some cry and beg the people there
Some might survive, some beyond repair

They laugh and smile
As our heads are torn
Then in that garbage pile
We are finally thrown
Alas alas, soon I will be no more
Reduced from a beauty of nature to just a score

©FAT 2015

more on live pigeon shooting from Showing Animals Respect & Kindness (SHARK) website http://sharkonline.org below some youtube links from their channel  caution some are graphic for animal cruelty

Year 2015 ,,,, scrambled thoughts, prophecies

Tags

australia, Crimea, democracy, france, Freedom, Fukushima reactor, humanity, life, Malaysian plane, palestine, philosophy, poem, poetry, russia, syria, Terrorism, thought of the day, usa, veto, war, wars

O Year two thousand and fifteen
What will you bring?
Horrors that I’ve foreseen
Or just a peaceful beautiful spring

The Veto was used again
In the last day of last year
The occupation will remain
Despite the Palestinian’s tears

The kangaroo was built by occupation
And they are also known
To support whomever in power
And will forever kiss the throne

The oil prices have dropped
To starve the mighty west, and the wounded east
A game that can’t be stopped
But will enrage the hungry beast

Real money is not in oil
So says the central bank
Wars have a better spoil
Plus you can sell more tanks

They took permission to hit Syria
From the man with the Mona Lisa’s smile
The price was to look away in Crimea
Diplomacy is forever vile

They are playing Russian roulette
Creating a fake defiance
They compiled a new world threat
And asked for a new world alliance

Then scare tactics are sought
To scare the naive lords
There are weapons to be bought
To stop the marching hordes

Use all the weapons you got
We will fight on your account
We will sell you more weapons, but
Without discount

Ideas can not die
Even if they seem unreal
One day someone will try
To make that idea real

Power corrupt
And end justify means
Soon the media will erupt
With fake bombing scenes

911 files are forever lost
And the French have learned the lesson
They have paid the initial cost
And soon they’ll cause a recession

The lords need a license to kill
To freely prosecute and imprison
The remaining hungry immigrants will-
Always eat less in prison

The population is increasing
Extreme measures in need
The lords income are decreasing
And there are more mouths to feed

The result is clear not vague
There will be a war
And there will be a plague
Just like the one before

The eagle will always hide
The truth behind the moon
And what does reside
Beneath the great brown lagoon

Weapons to make men insane
Or to make the earth fractures
The mystery of the Malaysian plane
And the Fukushima reactors

The oldest crown will remain
The eagle will pluck its feathers
The Bear will not sleep again
The poor will come together
From the shadow the dark lords, will maintain the power
In one hand a dagger in the other a flower

©FAT 2014

image copyright belongs to

Chaos  of the  Wire (Free photobank www.tOrange.us) / CC BY 4.0

Tortured holidays……

Tags

capitalism, Christmas, class warfare, Eid, equalism, equality, hanukkah, humanity, poem, poetry, poor, refugee camp, refugees, struggle, syria war, tortured holidays, war, wars

From the east to the west
Celebrations have started
Miseries have been put to rest
As if all sadness departed

They taken animals to the slaughter
To celebrate the day of Eid
They shared amongst each other
And forgot those in need

Then came thanksgiving
Where they gathered to feast
Table decorated with loved ones and linen
But lacks an immigrant seat

For Hanukkah candles are lit
To celebrate freedom and justice
Eight days to forget
The Zionist occupation forces injustice

Now Christmas is here
A mere man made celebration
The heathens celebrated it for years
And the church claimed the occasion

They are gathered around the fire
Aside a decorated tree pointing up to god
And my walls are made of barbwire
And my tree is stained with blood

Help will come they said
Medicine, blankets, soldiers and food
Still a refugee with no roof above my head
Since this war occurred

They said wait for the season of winter
And the horns of war will cease to rattle
But with everyday a new wolf pack enter
The struggle to cease the cattle

Humanity keeps hitting new lows
Sharing with the homeless is now a sin
I can care less about a rich man laws
I will always share till they take me in

They say they have to group them in shelters
To look after, to feed and treat
We’ve seen the abuse in the houses of elders
They just want to clean the streets

Rich men will always and forever
Aim to enrich their stable
If it was up to them they’d Endeavor
To eliminate the ones unable

My eyes see no status no color
No nationality or race
With shells I can’t be bothered
I see the soul behind the face

They are fooled by wealth and fame
And seldom I am fooled by beauty
But I’ll never be what they became
Fate always reminds me of duty
©FAT 2014

image Copyrights tiny.cc/syriafreedom

100 years of struggle….

Tags

Balfour pact, chaos, Freedom, imperialsim, liberty, life, philosophy, poem, poetry, politics, Sykes–Picot, Terrorism, the middle east, thought of the day, veto, war

A year and a half to go
For my 100 years anniversary
But Fate is a treacherous foe
And time is a formidable adversary

I was fed by death
Without a mother I was born
A month after my brother’s breath
My two creators got known

My will does reach the cloud
And my pawns can’t swerve
Imprisoned In a golden shroud
And their subjects just blindly serve

What I loudly preach
Their wealth is mine by god
And between what they hope to reach
Lays massacre, war and blood

Revolution on top of Revolutions
That I have seen decay
Summits, Panels and solutions
The veto voted nay

Today blasphemy reek
And it is getting out of hand
Of a caliphate they speak
To reunite the land

They say I’ll die next year
And my brother will follow
Their lies I don’t fear
And their words they’ll swallow

But what drove them mad
Something have gone wrong
Simple naive nomads
Have grown too strong

Their money I spent wisely
I have given them life
So exciting and lively
Bombs golden chains and strife

Occupations I have clarified
But they don’t understand
Massacres I have justified
Still right here they stand

Now the crazed are multiplying
Every day and night
And the peaceful are dyeing
They are beheaded left and right

Soon humanity will hide
And the end will begin
All sides will soon collide
For what they can’t win

Who would I fool?
What would I cherish?
Who would I rule?
When they all die and perish

Dear lord forgiveness I ask
And mercy I hope you’ll show
On my brother Balfour pact
And myself Sykes–Picot
©FAT 2014

 i Fear the chaos coming and i pray for world peace.