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Iraq has a new opportunity to comply with all these relevant resolutions of the Security Council.

quote by Kofi Annan
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Soboba

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Sobre Horizontes

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Beating Around The Bush: A Foreign Policy

Saddam claimed to be greater
than Hitler and Nebuchadnezzar,
an ancient king of Babylon.

Saddam believed he would
build a Greater Empire than both,
beginning from modern Iraq.

This is the man Mr Bush!
Decided to let continue
to rule during his watch?

In 1979 Iraqi President Saddam Hussein
claimed he was a direct lineal descendant
of Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar II.

Saddam called himself Nebuchadnezzar III
had coins struck showing his likeness
coined with the Babylonian king on these coins.

The two likenesses proved to be! Uncannily similar!

In his memoirs George Herbert Bush
compared Saddam to Adolf Hitler!
Aspirations for Empire! Ambitions!
Ethnic Cleansing! Rule by Dictatorship!

[Chemical weapons, deportations!
Forced disappearances, Secret police!
Targeted assassinations, torture, murders!
Sounds like a resume of Adolf Hitler!
Yes Saddam was another Hitler wanta be! ]

[This is monster Mr Bush
decided to let continue
to rule during his watch? ]

Invasion and Annexation
Kuwait invaded by Iraqi!
August 2 1990!
Iraqi forces first bomb
Kuwait City terror tactics!

The Kuwaiti civilian capital
attacked by Iraqi commandos!
Deployed by helicopters boats
all airports two airbases seized!

Remember Invasion Kuwait?
Saddam’s Iraq-Kuwait War?

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Security

Security
Sometimes its hard
When I dont know where youre going
Or where youve been
I got a broken heart
Surely, if you let me know you care for me
My heart will mend
Darling, I cant wait forever
Youve got to let me know or let me go (let me go)
All Im saying is
You cant keep playing with
A heart that loves you so
Security
Thats what we need, to keep our love strong
Security
Dont make me wait to long
Security
You gotta let me know if this is what you want
Security
Dont keep me hanging on
Im sure you know
If you take the time to think about it, you will realize
Honey, now not too long ago
I used to play around but thats all over
Youre my only guy
Re-evaluate this situation
Better check out your priorities
Youve got to get it straight
No hesitation
If what you want is me
Security
Thats what we need, to keep our love strong
Security
Dont make me wait to long
Security
You gotta let me know if this is what you want
Security
Dont keep me hanging on
Security
Thats what we need, to keep our love strong
Security
Dont make me wait to long
Security
You gotta let me know if this is what you want
Security
Dont keep me hanging on
Darling, I cant wait forever
Youve got to let me know - or let me go (let me go)
All Im saying is
You cant keep playing with

[...] Read more

song performed by Vanessa Williams
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Locating Weapons Of Mass Destruction

Who is responsible?
Responsible for globally
perceived as general

flouting of United Nations
Security Council resolutions?
As our esteemed world’s

solution supposed
pre-eminent
peace-keeping body?

What’s up?
Where is de problem?
Where solutions?

Iraq agreed to UN searches.
Weapons of mass destruction
were US Bush administration;

fabricated sold news wholesale
justification for invading Iraq!
Saddam never possessed WMD’s

in close to huge stockpiles
never found never existed
coalition forces used WMD’s!

A single combat ready
stalking American aircraft
carrier is a supreme fleet

strike mother load
weapons platform
of mass destruction!

Splitting image from the poem ‘Flouting UN Security Council Resolutions? ’ by Terence George Craddock.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Golden Opportunity

(ian hunter)
The kids are ok
Theyre telling you now
But youre letting them down
Cause you just dont know how
And its a golden opportunity
Im spinning in space
Im laughing away
Your so pathetic
I can just hear them say
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
See hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
Get near it
Its a golden opportunity
We reckon theyre rats
Now see how they run
My house is so common
And were dumb were so dumb
And its a golden opportunity
Scream all you suckers
Scream all you can
Im losing my bluff
Its a scam its a scam
And its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
Alright!
You better hear it hear it
Hear it hear it
Its a golden opportunity
Hear it
Hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
(fade)

song performed by Ian Hunter
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New Year resolutions

One year gone,
New year comes.
Old resolutions achieved,
New resolutions planned.

We’re one year older, and
A year wiser.
We’re wiser, older, and
A year gone.

New hope and new vision,
Envision your dream,
Plan your dream,
Dare your dream.

Realize your dream,
Dream your dream,
Vision your dream,
Achieve your dream.

New resolutions here,
Old resolutions gone.
New lives, new you,
New Year, new resolutions.

New Year Arrives,
Happy New You,
Happy New Year,
Happy & Merry Year.

poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Ever Green Resolutions

I take many resolutions and hatch them for eternity
Like millions have done from the time immemorial
Across Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia
And beyond the Atlantic.

I dream about the chicks
Which are never born
And my resolutions hatched for ever
Turn out to be ever green!

My resolutions cry for action
Sometimes they call for 'some action'.
But I throw a mischevious smile
And ask them to learn their history.

I can quote the glory of
Many a resolution never acted upon.
That of a man who decided to be a social animal and
That of a woman who promised to be behind him.

Those resolutions were hatched for ever
Their chicks have never been born.
A spirit surges from within me
And I bury my face in my ever green resolutions.

poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Disarming Iraq is legal under a series of U.N. resolutions. Iraq is in flagrant violation of U.N. Security Council resolutions.

quote by Jose Maria Aznar
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Iraqi Freedom

They have brought Saddam to justice and handed freedom back
Or at least that is what you tell me to the people of Iraq
But i always thought that freedom included freedom to live free of fear
Whilst every day from Iraq of more deaths through violence we do hear.

If you think Iraq is such a great place to live in you should try living there
And with the basic freedoms that you now enjoy your notes you can compare
For you do not seem enlightened on matters of liberty
On your ideas of Iraq i for one could not agree.

And your ideas of freedom seem quite laughable to me
How can one even know of basic freedom if of fear one can't live free
You should spend your next holiday in Iraq with your wife and family
Otherwise your ideas of freedom i cannot take seriously.

When you talk of Iraqi freedom talk is cheap and words are easily said
The only news we hear from Iraq is of more Iraqi dead
As a holiday destination Iraq i would not recommend
Unless of course you are suicidal and you wish your life to end.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part II.

“Dame,” said the Panther, “times are mended well,
Since late among the Philistines you fell.
The toils were pitched, a spacious tract of ground
With expert huntsmen was encompassed round;
The inclosure narrowed; the sagacious power
Of hounds and death drew nearer every hour.
'Tis true, the younger lion 'scaped the snare,
But all your priestly calves lay struggling there,
As sacrifices on their altars laid;
While you, their careful mother, wisely fled,
Not trusting destiny to save your head.
For, whate'er promises you have applied
To your unfailing Church, the surer side
Is four fair legs in danger to provide;
And whate'er tales of Peter's chair you tell,
Yet, saving reverence of the miracle,
The better luck was yours to 'scape so well.”
“As I remember,” said the sober Hind,
“Those toils were for your own dear self designed,
As well as me; and with the selfsame throw,
To catch the quarry and the vermin too,—
Forgive the slanderous tongues that called you so.
Howe'er you take it now, the common cry
Then ran you down for your rank loyalty.
Besides, in Popery they thought you nurst,
As evil tongues will ever speak the worst,
Because some forms, and ceremonies some
You kept, and stood in the main question dumb.
Dumb you were born indeed; but, thinking long,
The test, it seems, at last has loosed your tongue:
And to explain what your forefathers meant,
By real presence in the sacrament,
After long fencing pushed against a wall,
Your salvo comes, that he's not there at all:
There changed your faith, and what may change may fall.
Who can believe what varies every day,
Nor ever was, nor will be at a stay?”
“Tortures may force the tongue untruths to tell,
And I ne'er owned myself infallible,”
Replied the Panther: “grant such presence were,
Yet in your sense I never owned it there.
A real virtue we by faith receive,
And that we in the sacrament believe.”
“Then,” said the Hind, “as you the matter state,
Not only Jesuits can equivocate;
For real, as you now the word expound,
From solid substance dwindles to a sound.
Methinks, an Æsop's fable you repeat;
You know who took the shadow for the meat:
Your Church's substance thus you change at will,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Opportunity

Opportunity, it is said,
knocks but once.
Opportunity, sometimes
knocks a few times.
The gospel truth is,
Opportunity's frequency is erratic.
Opportunity is a windfall,
in true truth a one-off affair.

This explicitly explains why
To the wise the plausible option,
is to grab the first opportunity.
Striking when iron is hot
Sparing oneself the guilt
Of not grasping an opportunity,
When it itself, presents.

Opportunity to the fool,
knocks when requested.
It is there to be clasped,
when really required.
No doubt missed opportunity,
is the facet of a fool.

Be wise, act rationally
Be guided by the reasoning
The time- tested saying
‘opportunity, knocks but once'.

poem by Emmanuel Oduro
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Future Watch Burma To Syria Conflicts Rising

been watching
the future today...

from past lens astray

Burma as expected
has developed
ethnic problems

with sudden absence
of strict communist
dictatorship firm leash

Burmese are no longer
all brother communists
controlled by the state

past civic grievances
rise from postmortem
state of frozen stasis

past horrors play
on revenge rabid minds
need exercising?

past spectre struggles
post World War II conflicts
leave skeletons in closets

frozen nightmares divisions
war atrocities split Yugoslavia
post familiar communist thaw

emotively haunted people
seem to need to grim settle
past trauma before each

can move on embrace
future possibilities opportunities
in free market societies

when no longer linked
in brotherhood communist
cast iron citizenships

emotively many people
seem to need to settle
the past before they can

move on

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Endearment Past

I have tried to endeavour
Some endurable facts.
But never forgot a relevant
Laud of the endearment past

The tendency of some glee moments
Of such cruel bars, but never forgot
A relevant of endearment past!

The paroxysm of the cruel newt
And the wasted time of waster,
A scrawl book of school,
Like I was companionless as a
New comer of different birth.

But never forgot a relevant
Brunt of the endearment past.

I've had a group of some human beings
Without battered souls,
The bond of changing of those;
Battered situations……………
Has killed me at once.

It is my hard bitten promise!
I never forgot the relevant of
The endearment past.

poem by Jayanta Banerjee
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Am I Relevant?

Am I relevant?
I am not afraid to keep current.
I am not worrying about any egos to massage.
Or pretenses to keep hidden.
Am I relevant?
Well...
I am not trying to keep reality,
From intoxicated surburbanites!
Doing their best to smile through their agonies!
Am I relevant?
Should I care to be?
And who's life would change if I wasn't?
If I should stop being topical...
Would that mean I would prefer cartoons,
Over current events?
Would that mean I would ignore,
The time I've spent...
Watching others pollute minds,
As I sat on my behind...
Complaining 'why' someone can't find,
A way to restrict
Those with loose lips...
From preventing ignorance,
The freedom of contaminating truths...
By the soothing use,
Of complete and total censorship!
Am I relevant?
I like to think of myself as not being constipated!
Or overdone with fantasies outdated,
To bait disappointments!
I like to keep fresh...
And controversial!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Relevant It Isn't

The cost of living
Getting out of reach.
The English language,
Taught in schools...
Becoming overruled,
As not the only language to be used.
Outsourcing now is an acronym for loss.
While those on foreign shores,
Rule as the new boss.
Relevant it isn't!
Not to those blind to this.

Values once upheld and shared.
Standards of life disrespected and bared.
Crime and corruption now seduces like a treat.
And welcomed like a lost friend,
Eager to meet on urban streets.
Relevant it isn't.
Not to those blind to this.

Trapped in racist sentiments.
Mindlessness connecting this.
A consciousness limited to selfishness!
Self examinations go dismissed.
A finger pointing is quick to lift.
Relevant it isn't.
Not to those blind to this!

Politics dropping lives like flies.
Using alibis to deny a truth that hides.
And whose interests are left in the banks to dry?
Relevant it isn't.
Not to those blind to this!

But to those demystisfied...
Can not cry enough teardrops,
From their swollen eyes!
It's the pitifulness of it,
They wish can be admitted with this weeping!
Dripping like rain...
But gaining little attention,
From those drugged and entertained
By their own self importance.

And 'that' to them,
Is the only relevance that makes sense.
And even that has weakened in priority.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Pied Piper of Hamelin

A Child's Story

I.

Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,
By famous Hanover city;
The river Weser, deep and wide,
Washes its wall on the southern side
A pleasanter spot you never spied;
But when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago,
To see the townsfolk suffer so
From vermin, was a pity.

II.

Rats!
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles.
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women's chats
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats.

III.

At last the people in a body
To the town hall came flocking:
"'Tis clear," cried they, "our mayor's a noddy;
And as for our corporation—shocking
To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
For dolts that can't or won't determine
What's best to rid us of our vermin!
You hope, because you're old and obese,
To find in the furry civic robe ease?
Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking
To find the remedy we're lacking,
Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"
At this the Mayor and Corporation
Quaked with a mighty consternation.

IV.

An hour they sat in council;
At length the Mayor broke silence
"For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell;

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
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The Iliad: Book 2

Now the other gods and the armed warriors on the plain slept
soundly, but Jove was wakeful, for he was thinking how to do honour to
Achilles, and destroyed much people at the ships of the Achaeans. In
the end he deemed it would be best to send a lying dream to King
Agamemnon; so he called one to him and said to it, "Lying Dream, go to
the ships of the Achaeans, into the tent of Agamemnon, and say to
him word to word as I now bid you. Tell him to get the Achaeans
instantly under arms, for he shall take Troy. There are no longer
divided counsels among the gods; Juno has brought them to her own
mind, and woe betides the Trojans."
The dream went when it had heard its message, and soon reached the
ships of the Achaeans. It sought Agamemnon son of Atreus and found him
in his tent, wrapped in a profound slumber. It hovered over his head
in the likeness of Nestor, son of Neleus, whom Agamemnon honoured
above all his councillors, and said:-
"You are sleeping, son of Atreus; one who has the welfare of his
host and so much other care upon his shoulders should dock his
sleep. Hear me at once, for I come as a messenger from Jove, who,
though he be not near, yet takes thought for you and pities you. He
bids you get the Achaeans instantly under arms, for you shall take
Troy. There are no longer divided counsels among the gods; Juno has
brought them over to her own mind, and woe betides the Trojans at
the hands of Jove. Remember this, and when you wake see that it does
not escape you."
The dream then left him, and he thought of things that were,
surely not to be accomplished. He thought that on that same day he was
to take the city of Priam, but he little knew what was in the mind
of Jove, who had many another hard-fought fight in store alike for
Danaans and Trojans. Then presently he woke, with the divine message
still ringing in his ears; so he sat upright, and put on his soft
shirt so fair and new, and over this his heavy cloak. He bound his
sandals on to his comely feet, and slung his silver-studded sword
about his shoulders; then he took the imperishable staff of his
father, and sallied forth to the ships of the Achaeans.
The goddess Dawn now wended her way to vast Olympus that she might
herald day to Jove and to the other immortals, and Agamemnon sent
the criers round to call the people in assembly; so they called them
and the people gathered thereon. But first he summoned a meeting of
the elders at the ship of Nestor king of Pylos, and when they were
assembled he laid a cunning counsel before them.
"My friends," said he, "I have had a dream from heaven in the dead
of night, and its face and figure resembled none but Nestor's. It
hovered over my head and said, 'You are sleeping, son of Atreus; one
who has the welfare of his host and so much other care upon his
shoulders should dock his sleep. Hear me at once, for I am a messenger
from Jove, who, though he be not near, yet takes thought for you and
pities you. He bids you get the Achaeans instantly under arms, for you
shall take Troy. There are no longer divided counsels among the
gods; Juno has brought them over to her own mind, and woe betides
the Trojans at the hands of Jove. Remember this.' The dream then

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11

SCARCE had the rosy Morning rais’d her head
Above the waves, and left her wat’ry bed;
The pious chief, whom double cares attend
For his unburied soldiers and his friend,
Yet first to Heav’n perform’d a victor’s vows: 5
He bar’d an ancient oak of all her boughs;
Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac’d,
Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac’d.
The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn,
Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 10
Was hung on high, and glitter’d from afar,
A trophy sacred to the God of War.
Above his arms, fix’d on the leafless wood,
Appear’d his plumy crest, besmear’d with blood:
His brazen buckler on the left was seen; 15
Truncheons of shiver’d lances hung between;
And on the right was placed his corslet, bor’d;
And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: 20
“Our toils, my friends, are crown’d with sure success;
The greater part perform’d, achieve the less.
Now follow cheerful to the trembling town;
Press but an entrance, and presume it won.
Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, 25
As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice.
Turnus shall fall extended on the plain,
And, in this omen, is already slain.
Prepar’d in arms, pursue your happy chance;
That none unwarn’d may plead his ignorance, 30
And I, at Heav’n’s appointed hour, may find
Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind.
Meantime the rites and fun’ral pomps prepare,
Due to your dead companions of the war:
The last respect the living can bestow, 35
To shield their shadows from contempt below.
That conquer’d earth be theirs, for which they fought,
And which for us with their own blood they bought;
But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
To the sad city of Evander send, 40
Who, not inglorious, in his age’s bloom,
Was hurried hence by too severe a doom.”
Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way,
Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay.
Acoetes watch’d the corpse; whose youth deserv’d 45
The father’s trust; and now the son he serv’d
With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
Th’ attendants of the slain his sorrow share.
A troop of Trojans mix’d with these appear,
And mourning matrons with dishevel’d hair. 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Pied Piper Of Hamelin, The

A CHILD'S STORY.

(_Written for, and inscribed to, W. M. the Younger._)

I.

Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,
By famous Hanover city;
The river Weser, deep and wide,
Washes its wall on the southern side;
A pleasanter spot you never spied;
But, when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago,
To see the townsfolk suffer so
From vermin, was a pity.

II.

Rats!
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles,
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women's chats
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats.

III.

At last the people in a body
To the Town Hall came flocking:
``'Tis clear,'' cried they, ``our Mayor's a noddy;
``And as for our Corporation---shocking.
``To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
``For dolts that can't or won't determine
``What's best to rid us of our vermin!
``You hope, because you're old and obese,
``To find in the furry civic robe ease?
``Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking
``To find the remedy we're lacking,
``Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!''
At this the Mayor and Corporation
Quaked with a mighty consternation.

IV.

An hour they sat in council,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning
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