My babies - last of the Mohiccans

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Come Chill with the T's

For many of you who may wonder
of a Thamby conspiracy up yonder,
To Halaalify your food,
and Shariah coat your hood.
To occupy the East,
and spread a Buriyani feast.
We like our beef curry,
and are never in a hurry.
Yes, our manhood tells stories,
but no need to bring any worries.
We have the right of four,
one behind each door.
Children are our pension,
so please dont preach retention.
We pray, we fast and pay Zakat,
we dont give much of a fart.
For those who try to meddle,
and spew venom and trouble.
So for the Bee's are stirring the pot,
I say, come on over, lets chill the crap out.
And through each passing day,
Pass the Watalapam, this way,

Sunday, January 13, 2013

When I'm 64?

(apologies to J,P,G & R)

Just one more year, and I hope to be there,
Singing the same old songs.
Will we still be having our peace of mind,
Sunshine over us , waters so kind?
Will there be roses, blooming all day
will fauna still freely flow?
Will there be hunger,
Will there be pain,
When I'm 64?

And in the future, as we move on,
Will the killings all cease?
Will the people choose the same old wrongs,
Damning democracies, banging their gongs?
Will there be nations, killing their sons,
Infusing  revolutions?
Will there be sweetness,
Will there be love,
When I'm 64?

Where will all the good folks gather to meet and to greet, 
Or will life be filled with so much pain?

When the clock strikes to catch the last train,
Will we be let down?
Will the young people who brandish their guns
Keep on shooting and make us all run?
Will the task masters keep hunting us down,
making us look like clowns.
Will they still be there,
Will they treat us fair,
When I'm 64?

Now I'm 64

When we first met and started the show,
many moons ago,
You were willing to slave through the night,
and I was so willing to give it a fight.
We were still growing and in still our teens
The world seemed so small and shallow
Yet you still needed me
You were still feeding me\r\nlong before sixty four

We are older now
And we will make it through, even if its just me and you.

Forty years gone and still on the road,
we are still moving on,
How much more time will there be left?
Days are so fleeting,
Nights move beyond.
Ignore the snores and even the gas,
Please put the cat out the door,
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
Now that I'm 64?

The girls have all grown up and the grand kids are here,
We are so proud today.
And we just hope that they will both grow,
strong enough to move through the years.

Life has been good, the days have gone by,
Rainbows in the sky.
Waiting for the train to take us back home,
looking through the window, enjoying the sights.
Whats on the other side, nobody knows,
Yet we will be alright.
As long as you need me,
As long as you feed me,
Now that I'm 64.

I am Nothing

the boys would play cricket with gusto
on the streets down to the sea
the ones who gathered together
when we got home after school
to frolic in the sun before homework
followed by my mother's calling
before she prepared the evening meal
listening to the nightly radio
as we laughed and sang to the tunes
of Hit Parade and Sunday Choice
we would laugh when she called
delaying the game a little longer
would joke and tease would say
that I don't want to drink the soup
would laugh because she would insist
that we have to wash before meals
and stay silent at the table
and she cleaned up and put us to bed
the beach on Sunday morning was cool
and Mums lunch after was grand
time flowed with comfort and smiles
people walked in and out without asking
no one complained life was just rolling
vendors knocked on doors, making their bread
and another day began to a bright yellow sun
the sound on the street was deafening
yet nobody heard or cared
just a speck of life that we were a part of
life that we lived well with all of the peoples
never for a moment questioning identity
like all other life on earth
a simple life form, that's what we were

Who Killed Rizana Nafeek

Who killed Rizana Nafeek?
I, said the Father,
together with her Mother,
We killed Rizana Nafeek.

Who sent her out?
I, said the Agent,
with a little resentment,
I sent her out.

Who gave her work?
We, said the family,
to take care of our baby,
We gave her the work.

Who choked the baby?
The bottle says the evidence,
without any pretense,
I choked the  baby.

Who tried her case out?
I, said the Shariah,
just like a warrior,
I tried her case.

Who chopped her head off?
I, said the hood,
with my shining sword,
I chopped her head off.

Who didnt do his biding?
I, said the Embassy,
we dont want to be fussy,
We'll take the blame.

Who has to answer?
Society, and its clout,
who force the lasses out,
They have to answer.

Who'll be the loser?
Humanity, has lost,
Pipped at the post,
Humanity is the loser.

Who'll stop this mess?
No hands to be seen,
No one is clean.
Can you stop this mess?.

All the people on this planet
fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
when they heard the axe fall
on poor Rizana Nafeek.

Riyadh, Jan 11 2013