From Allah's blog
Sep. 29th, 2003 11:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sinanjuAllah is blogging these days, you know. If you don't know, you should. Today he's posted some of the poems from the latest Paradise poetry quarterly. They can be found at http://allahakbar.blogspot.com/
This is my...well, not my favorite, but it really gives you a feel for the dedication and fervent religious faith that would lead to, well, just read:
Abdallah, you have expressed in words what Allah is feeling in his chest! And yet, as good as this poem is, truly it pales in comparison to the following. The author is a young Palestinian father named Abu. At least, he used to be a father: Radical Islam is too hardcore for our version of Abraham and Isaac to end with some wussy psych-out at the end.
"Ramallah, Saturday Morning"
My son is in front of the TV
Watching American cartoons
About a good man with a rifle,
A bit slow but committed,
Trying to destroy an enemy
Who taunts and confounds him.
I sit at the dining room table,
Testing the charges, packing
In the rat poison and screws,
Hearing him laughing at
The Zionist propaganda,
Sympathizing with the prey
Instead of the hunter.
I know better. In those cartoons
Is the fate of our people:
1967 all over again
Each time the hunter sticks his gun
Down a hole and it comes up
Behind him, and shoots him
Right in the ass.
The device is ready. I stand up and
Press it to my waist to measure.
Small, much too small--but then
It wasn't made for me to wear, was it?
I call my son over and try to explain
In terms he can understand. He starts
Crying and screaming, but I know
What to say to him now, I know
How to calm him now, and as I
Lean in to tighten the belt 'round
His tiny waist and press the bus
Schedule into his tiny hands, I whisper
To him the words that will change
His political sympathies in a heartbeat:
"Be vewy, vewy quiet. You're hunting wabbits."
Your son's wascally sacwifice shall not be forgotten, glorious Abu! Someday you too shall hunt wabbits with Allah in Paradise!
This is my...well, not my favorite, but it really gives you a feel for the dedication and fervent religious faith that would lead to, well, just read:
Abdallah, you have expressed in words what Allah is feeling in his chest! And yet, as good as this poem is, truly it pales in comparison to the following. The author is a young Palestinian father named Abu. At least, he used to be a father: Radical Islam is too hardcore for our version of Abraham and Isaac to end with some wussy psych-out at the end.
"Ramallah, Saturday Morning"
My son is in front of the TV
Watching American cartoons
About a good man with a rifle,
A bit slow but committed,
Trying to destroy an enemy
Who taunts and confounds him.
I sit at the dining room table,
Testing the charges, packing
In the rat poison and screws,
Hearing him laughing at
The Zionist propaganda,
Sympathizing with the prey
Instead of the hunter.
I know better. In those cartoons
Is the fate of our people:
1967 all over again
Each time the hunter sticks his gun
Down a hole and it comes up
Behind him, and shoots him
Right in the ass.
The device is ready. I stand up and
Press it to my waist to measure.
Small, much too small--but then
It wasn't made for me to wear, was it?
I call my son over and try to explain
In terms he can understand. He starts
Crying and screaming, but I know
What to say to him now, I know
How to calm him now, and as I
Lean in to tighten the belt 'round
His tiny waist and press the bus
Schedule into his tiny hands, I whisper
To him the words that will change
His political sympathies in a heartbeat:
"Be vewy, vewy quiet. You're hunting wabbits."
Your son's wascally sacwifice shall not be forgotten, glorious Abu! Someday you too shall hunt wabbits with Allah in Paradise!
(no subject)
Date: 2003-10-01 04:51 pm (UTC)