h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Men and the women who travel worldwide,
Insisting that ‘they’ only have god on their side,
Saying there’s naught but their one real faith,
Spurning every other as heathen wraith,
Invoking the wrath of ‘their’ god and hell-fire,
On the heads of the innocent - then sink in the mire.
No one replies when a small voice asks, “Well,
Are all of our forefathers resting in hell.
Are Moses and Abraham, Job and Esther,
In brimstone forever and ever to fester?
Exothermic hell awaits your good word.
So until then don’t be so danmed absurd.

Sorry - it's still not my turn, but on the same theme:

Expatriates

Ensconced in their business class cosseted seats,
Xenophobic to a man,
Plunderers, mendicants, looters and cheats,
And their year-round perfect tan.
Telling the natives they haven’t a clue,
“Really, we know what is best,
It’s better you start everything from new,
And we’ll take care of the rest.
That land by the beach would make a nice club,
Everything done like an old English pub.
Some TCN barmaids can serve up the grub.”

Ignorance

Intolerance
Grounded in fear
Nonsensical
Old fashioned ideas
Reality bites
And violence incites
Nothing more than
Changing ideas
Each of us should remain open and learn.

Ignorance is Bliss

I know I’m right
Gee Dubbya said,
No one can say I’m wrong
On my right hand, I’ve Tony Blair,
Awe $chit the bugger’s gone,
No matter I’ve got Condi Rice
Cheney’s there as well
Ev’ryone who upsets me,
I’ll happily send to hell.
So who’s the next one we can con,
Black Africa looks good,
Looks like they need democracy,
I certainly think they should.
Safe in knowing, I’m always right,
Saving the world from Shaitan’s blight.

Wot ‘appen?

Willie – when he reached eleven,
Obtained an AK47,
Trained it on his great aunt Mable
And shot her as she laid the table.

Pa-pa – waiting for his meal,
Praised the child – though he did feel,
Even if the boy was right,
Now there’ll be no tea tonight.

(Sorry - I have been translating Harry Graham into Arabic)

I like it

POSING

Prop your fist upon your hip
Or your chin upon your hand
Something like this
Is what you're after
Not falling or
Gurning.

Sorry - this summer I have been singularly

UNINSPIRED

Unless an idea springs to my mind,
Nudging my thoughts – a new verse to find,
I just sit here and stare,
No ideas – which is rare,
So that writing becomes quite a grind.

Perhaps, if I thought of a word,
I could write without sounding absurd,
Rekindle this thread,
Else it might just stay dead,
Don’t let your ideas remain blurred.

Telepathy


Tell me, did you think of me?
Every day from two till three?
Loving thoughts I'm sure you sent
Ever since some time we spent
Playing wordgames, writing rhymes
Acrostic poems too, at times.
Think of me and I will know
How? No clue, just do it, go!
Yes, it works, I'm sure, you know?

The strange thing is that B'Elena and I both started writing the same acrostic i.e Telepathy - at about the same time. Congratulations - you giot there first (and yours is better so I think you must have 'stolen' mine!!!!.



TELEPATHY
Thoughts come to mind – we know not why,
Emerging unexpected
Leaving a sense of déja vu,
Except I’m left dejected.
Perhaps your thoughts and mine collide,
And when we think the same,
There’s some connection in the brian,
Herein our ideas coincide.
You got there first – but don’t deride.

SEX

Sensual sensation skirt the surface
Erotic embarrassment ease the emotion
Xtasy!

Welcome, Welcome, Welcome,
Previous Welcomes

Welcome
by B'Elena

Wonderful to have you here
Eventually you joined
Let me greet you with beer
Cheer you with a German 'Moin'
Oh, may you write
Many a poem
Even if it's trite.

Welcome by PBs
Welcome to this crazy thread
Expect the rules to break your head
Leave all normal thoughts behind

Come on – open up your mind
Oh that others would subscribe
Maybe we could all imbibe
Emotions we cannot describe.

and

Welcome - Again
When a new contributor,
Elects to join, we say ‘Bring more’,
Loosen up – relax – a drink?’
We’re all good friends here – so we think.

Our only object’s to amuse,
Maybe with rhymes that can confuse,
Elected ones who sit and yike,
Any words that they don’t like.

Good and awful, the long and terse,
All’s welcome – even the blankest verse,
It shows the different ways we think,
No acrostic’s rejected – another drink?

I didn't remember I wrote that.

Senile

So old and forgetting
Every- and anything
Nothing's like it used to be
I don't make plans for you and me
Lest I forget
Everything. How sad.

Bad news on the radio

Bothering me
And worrying too
Dont know why

Nobody knew.
Everyone seems to
Worry but just
Say 'sorry', 'it's so terrible' and such...

Yo are a long way from senile - just that I have collected and collated the lot. It is nearly time to eat:

Iftar
If you starve all day, and eat all night,
Flatulence becomes a blight,
Take eating figs, dates, shabakiah
And ask yourself about your rear,
Really – Iftar or I Fart.

No answer?


No reply from you
Oh just what can I do?

Apologies if I upset you
Never meant to, and that's true.
Shall I just leave you alone
Worry only about things of my own?
Every so often I think of you.
Right, I hope this poem will do.

EDITOR

Erudition – to something I try to aspire,
Did you edit it right, my mentors enquire?
‘I wrote just as it came out of my head’,
‘Then you can’t write properly – you should be dead.’
‘Oh can I write just one more rhyme?’
Relax – maybe there’s not the time.

SONS

Seeing the children grow,

Onto new lives they go

Not to come back.

Smiling I lack.

SONS (Moroccan ones)

Should we ever have babies at all?
Ones that do nought but sit under the wall?
Needlessly drinking and smoking their kif,
Senseless and stupid – beyond my belief.

Blindly
Entertaining
Lies
In
Exegetic
Faith.