A MYTH NOT A MACHINE While some of us consider a poem to be a myth not a machine Amazing what rubbish others can write and get away with clean Take this so called poet who cant spell a word for the life of him And says boldly if he dont know it, neither do Tom, Dick, nor Jim The problem with the English language is that others learn it better While the British have taken to sausages they do not write a letter So the Indians bag the Booker Prize and the Aussies, the Ashes And ere the sun can even rise, each Arab knows what cash is And so the Islanders have left the corner shops to the Pakis And the Irelanders have handed over terrorism to the Iraqis The veges now come from Europe and the beef from Spain Surely theres more to Great Britain than a downpour of rain Why then dont we hear the Lion roar anymore in Africa or Asia Instead the poor beast is all tied up behind closed doors in Croatia I cant understand why they do not decide to give up their pretenses After all the world has come a long way in writing their own sentences So why dont they just let things be and sit back to relax in Cornwall Why must they always see some strange thing written by George Orwell I know that in their heart of hearts they love to play the part of a vile villain And when you tell them they arent so smart they are up and about for the killin I like the British; they have a nose that stands up in the air and a lower lip thats tight Each one of them has a fetish and when they walk bare they tend to scare you in the night But thats not half as bad as what the Russians tend to offer, nor the Germans, nor Japanese Which is what makes the others mad, and why the whole world plays up to them to please! RAJA CHANGEZ SULTAN SELECTED POEMS
Posted on: Fri, 14 Mar 2014 02:53:04 +0000
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