Categorised | Letters to the Editor

to revile; to revere; to respect

Here is land. Go pray on it.

Here is land. But remember;

I do not want to see your crosses,
I do not want to hear your church bells;

Shut the lid on that age old organ,
And turn your trumpets in.

Keep your deities away from me,
Lest my eyes fall upon its evil;

Silence your prayers from this air that is mine,

Lest my ears be tainted by their devotion

Keep away from my sight your statues
In all their colour and splendour,

For your statues are not my statues
And only what’s mine shall exist.

Snuff out your candles,
And pour out the oil,
For only the light in my lamps
Shall flicker for all.

Here is land. I”ll tolerate you here.

But this is my fence.
And cross it you shall not.

~

Why, brethren, why?

Why do my prayers offend you so?

Do we both not ask for mercy and grace?
Do we both not seek strength for kindness and love?

Do we both not fall on our knees for forgiveness?

Do we both not hold out our hands in thanks?

Why do you anger at the sight of my cross?
Why must I hide the symbols of my faith?

Why do my steeples, my statues, my stupas
and my structures of belief drive you to hatred?

My beliefs needn’t be your beliefs
As yours needn’t be mine.

But is not your God
My God, too?

And is this land not yours
or mine,
But that of the Lord of all mankind?


9 Sept 2009

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3 Responses to “to revile; to revere; to respect

  1. dominik says:

    Beautifully written.

    Nothing but the truth. Most probably the negative mentality would have been imported from Middle East countries.

    They were not like that in the days of old.

  2. Chang Mei Yen says:

    Beautiful, and true.

  3. somethingStirring says:

    Animal Harmed 2009

    The story goes that the rich prince had a farm
    There lived two-legged, three-legged, and four-legged animals
    Now the rich prince never let the animals govern
    That right he bestowed upon some um, no-spine criminals

    One of these was the sleepy bag of weed
    It rolled onto the stage amid cries of hooray
    “Don’t work for me..,” he pleaded so nothing did
    The March waves came and swept it away

    Then the stage was set for the shit
    Whose father could be great, could be vicious
    But the shit was not exactly a big hit
    A poisonous smell started to rise

    Now the shit had a brother-in-arm
    Paid to hunt underwater beast in France
    An indignant Mongolian mare stomped onto the farm
    A beauty whose name is now defunct

    On the worldly peak they found her forearm
    Bits of legs and muzzle and hooves
    To know what she had tragically become
    Be very brave and C4 yourself

    The kangaroos got around and put on a show
    The shit’s loving text slipped from the pigeon’s claws
    Pleading the brother to bear with it for now
    “Just remember I never met the horse before”

    A ray of light fell on a Parisian painting
    Two stools riding the ill-fated steed
    The puma commented the uncanny likeness
    “Can these two be from same breed?”

    The painting must be taken down the wall
    From the airplane the brother got the London view
    Two faceless branches took the fall
    God knows why killed someone they hardly knew

    The brother confessed to the wind
    “This sure smells a lot like shit,” declared the canine
    But the curry fish head changed his mind
    Since that day he had become offline

    The helpless chick arrived for some pointers
    “My advice is this,” said the voice within the toilet
    “If you want the hole truth, you have to poke harder”
    “And please remember we have never met”

    Two frogs jumped into a sewage pond
    For a baptism by stinking sewage
    The witch laughed riding the wheels of fortune
    The shit took off with the silver on a royal carriage

    The stench in the farm filled all the lungs
    The shit reached into his bag of perfumes and candies
    Something to mask the odor and sweeten the tongues
    The faeces was ordered to put out the candles

    The shit raised its second digit
    After digging up gold from its nostrils
    “All animals are equal. I call it 1bullshit”
    “But some more equal than others, so please be real”

    The hired parrots did a sell-out concert
    On the dance floor only three-legged creatures
    The third legs made the crowd go berserk
    God knows they would have danced better if they lost the clutches

    The shit wanted victory and that’s that
    The dung danced overtime to seduce the reaper
    The bird flew out the window to his nightmarish death
    The kangaroos reassembled for another round of caper

    The thirsty dagger stood in the way of God
    A bloody cow head was the toll
    The cousin approved by way of a nod
    The cowprits gleefully extolled

    For 52 years the animals were preyed upon
    How much longer before the truth is rediscovered?
    The fearless storyteller has moved on
    The stench has become unbearable

    Will the animals know their real enemies?
    When will the animals rise up to stake their claim?
    The faecal family is waste discharge of animals’ bodies
    Their rightful place is in the sewage drains

    All animals must reclaim the land they own
    When the time comes flush the stinking shit down


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