Moez Ben Meftah

Why, Yankees!

Why, Yankees!

You badly crippled the big Red Bear with clues,
As Napoleon assassinated Trotsky and his views,
'Cause two tough captains in one ark never agree.
If they fight they will make their ark an old hulk,
And it drowns with the cargo and all the crews.

And the WASP of USA of course needs a frail wasp,
But not a naughty stinger of imperial large grasp,
So that the Frontier moves ahead and grows'
And the old Dream never reaches a last gasp.

But, as the old cold clash between Western booms
And the red Big Brothers came forth without glooms,
All the people felt afraid and fixed up their zooms,
Close to the Cherokees large yards of mass tombs.

The lesson was once frankly laid by sir Kissinger:
The globe needs just one Master of Supreme Law;
'by bread not by gun' you can keep states quo,
And the lion is the law and the ox is oppression.

On the eleventh of September, at about nine a.m.,
The premonition was true in about half an hour;
The Twin Towers were no more and neither were
The Yiddish dough and Uncle Tom's masterminds.

Ladin down by Bin Ladin, you couldn't admit that
The world was again to the Muslims and Arabs,
We'd reigned over you long ago, you had a turn,
And now again, thank Allah, our sun also rises,
Oh…Yankees you are no more CIA sooth Sayers.

You could have read the big blast in Buddha's bulk
Blown down by the mines of Afghan Taliban's,
In the silent wolf eying you on the flags of Chechens,
In the crimson chilly gore of Palestine's brave boys.

And in just a jiffy, you'll get superb news about the
Despots of the East and the baptized Arab pharos.
The same rule of old timers still applies nowadays:
Never can the naughty cobra turn to a mild goose.

So, the pharos, from Moses' days until that of Cairo's
Can toss, by use of force, al the gypsies back to cells
And put the rest of the folk to the sword or the noose.
They could pepper the Magna Charta with feud laws,

But they couldn't temper with the truth that he knows:
One plus one never equal the result of two zeroes;
Those who have hearts of faith will become real heroes,
And the lusty on the thrones, will stay nasty bores,

So, it is even so, defy us with your one-ton laser bombs,
We've got more than zillions of zealots of real oneness,
And two masterpiece enthagons of millions of hajj goers,
One in Taiba and the other in valleys of no meadows.

Hey, Yankees! take the high-tech hard wares and snares!
Hail to Ka'aba, Al-Medina or Jerusalem's yellow domes!
Don't forget your stallions and the nooses of cowboys!
Or, apache us from afar, you mass killers of Mohegan's!



Topic(s) of this poem: america

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 2, 2014

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