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September 10, 2008 | by  | in Online Only |
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Twas the night before 9/11

A poem…

Twas the night before 9/11, and all through the States,
not a creature was stirring, except the irate.
Explosives were hung on the buildings with care,
in the hope that the Jihad soon would be there.


The commuters were nestled, all snug in the air,
while visions of their journeys close to an end were near.
And Khalid Sheikhin in turban, and Atta in a cap,
Had just checked onto the plane for a terrorist attack.


When up in the cockpit arose such a clatter,
the world still unaware of what was the matter.
Away from the course they flew like a flash,
their fates predestined to end in a crash.


Through the clear Autumn sky shone the twin towers,
a lustre of peace shone on strong commercial powers.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But two passenger jets, hurtling fast through the air.


With flyers so dedicated to the fatwa,
We knew in a moment it must be Osama.
More rapid than eagles on their courses they came,
First the south tower, then the north, hit the planes.

 

And the West was left wondering why,
Surely it can’t be because we’ve condemned them to die.
foisted democracy on them, when justice is free,
stolen their oil, their land and dignity.


It can’t be because of our untrustful nature.
dividing, and conquering, and playing power maker.
All the time the media conniving
to show us nice images of war, while we’re dining.


But no matter the horror or how much they bleed,
it’s never sufficient to slacken our greed.
We shovel down resources regardless of peace,
our round little belly’s becoming obese


So as we sit here on nine-eleven eve,
Please spare a thought for Palestinian refugees.
To those that us in the West have forgotten,
those whose lives are miserable and rotten.


Remember the message that came after the crash,
stop rushing into wars that are ignorant and rash.
Stop sending in troops and ignoring sovereignty,
But help them, nurture them, let them be free.

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Comments (13)

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  1. Dean Cooper says:

    You rock Doc!

    I want your words inside me.

  2. lameozoid says:

    This is typical of the hateful far left bloggers who are insensitive to the families of the deceased and undermining the strength of a great nation.

    Have you no patriotism?

  3. Trig Palin says:

    So true. If only Americans would listen.

  4. Fem says:

    How is this poem insensitive to the 9/11 families?

  5. Red says:

    This man tried to strangle me with his penis. Now that’s insensitive.

  6. Michael Oliver says:

    Guitar solos on 9/11

  7. Sarita says:

    Ahahah. And well done.

    PS. Lameozoid, patriotism doesn’t particularly apply if you aren’t exactly from that country…

  8. GLURGE (GLURJ), n.
    A sentimental or uplifting story, particularly one delivered via e-mail, that uses inaccurate or fabricated facts; a story that is mawkish or maudlin; the genre consisting of such stories.

  9. smurfette says:

    Your IP address isn’t so anonymous… we know who you are RM.

  10. Possibly Michael Oliver says:

    Oh…

  11. Nothing personal, btw. I immensely enjoyed the good Doctor’s reprise of “Behind Blue Eyes”; this just isn’t his best work.

  12. Thanks Anonymous Coward. It is somewhat glurgical. However the facts aren’t fabricated, and are only slightly inaccurate. Please allow me some artistic licence. It is also somewhat original. Although I plagiarised some of the words from T’was the night before Christmas and the tune of the aforementioned ditty, the content came straight out of my immensely powerful brain.

    I’m sorry that you believe that the sentiment was mawkish. It is my opinion that the issues of international terrorism and the plight of thousands of people in the Middle East are compellingly tear jerking and have many times moved me to express my emotions through my tear ducts. I do believe that packaging this message in a way that people might be able to swallow (eg a Christmas carol) is at least another way to make people think about the situation in the Middle East.

    It also stems from me listening to Robert Fisk in Union Hall earlier in the week.

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