{"article":{"id":103132,"heading":"Poetry","author":"mymicz","created":"2004-02-18 01:44:52","modified":"2004-02-18 01:47:42","last_modified":"Wed, 18 Feb 2004 08:47:42","article":"

Middle East

Can you blame me,

paid in interest,

for your budget.

Paid for the lame, for the crippled, for the drunk, and the abusive. Not just in taxes but in time and terror too.

Can you blame me, I was born DURING A WAR,

in a place you'll never understand, because you live here, in comfort.

In a place where blades slice throats of innocent children,

And me I see dead people I can see THEM.

Survivors,

my people are survivors, aren't yours?

So can you blame me, when you say I shouldn't survive?

Should I say the same about you?

I am no fool.

Are you?

Don't we all have a right to live?

Isn't the world plenty big that I could find some corner?

Or would they kill me there too?

Armed to the teeth and full of truth but still vulnerable.

All impermanent yet written forever in bouncing from second to second,

Each hit of the keys just commands me to vent CAN YOU BLAME ME?

Still I'm sorry that I did let you make me hate but not really.

For you sparked me to grow past that hatred and use other energy.

And a Paul, Peter and Maryology will never fix this past three years bloodshed.

For war it bounced off you and onto me and on to every living head.

G-d forgive me.

I don't blame you anymore.

So stop blaming me.

And naming me a Lion of Zion.

For I was born in Rishon or First of Zion.

And even if my sign is a Lion I am still other things.

Like a human.

For millions of years man did not rule the land and perhaps thats the way that it should be.

No Almighty.

Maybe woman should finally try her sweet hand.

But I'll not trade my tyrant for yours nor will I even die because you say that I stole your land, that's just stupid.

Not even the Native American who deserves all of this here is that viscious to blow up poor people on busses.

Instead they make pow wows and grand gambling halls like the mafia but we all enjoy it.

Because the best vengence is living well.

Some day the Raimbow tribe will tell of funny arguments and wars that came before,

when we don't hate and blame each other anymore.

About the Conflict, over which man was allowed just to live.

<\/p>\n","contact":"","link":"","address":"","phone":"","parent_id":0,"mime_type":"text\/plain","summary":"Just a little lyric for arts sake...","numcomment":1,"fileurl":"\/uploads\/","filesize":null,"article_url":"\/news\/2004\/02\/103132.php"},"attachments":[],"comments":[{"id":103133,"heading":"fresca","article":"Well ah jumpt! and fled this fucken heap on doctored wings\r\nMah flailin pinions, with splints and rags and crutches!\r\n(Damn things nearly hardly flap)\r\nCanker upon canker upon one million tiny punctures\r\nThat look like...\r\nLong thin red ribbons draped across the arms of a lil mortal girl\r\n(Like a ground -plan of Hell)\r\nCurse these smartin strings! These fucken ruptures!\r\nEnough! Enough is enough!\r\n(If this is Heaven ah'm bailin out)\r\nIf this is Heaven ah'm bailin out\r\nAh caint tolerate this ol tin-tub\r\nSo fulla trash and rats! Felt one crawl across mah soul\r\nFor a seckon there , as thought as wassa back down in the ghetto!\r\n(Rats in Paradise! Rats in Paradise!)\r\nAh'm bailin out! There's a mutiny in Heaven!\r\n\r\n\r\nAh wassa born...\r\nAnd Lord shakin, even then was dumpt into some icy font,\r\nlike some great stinky unclean!\r\nFrom slum-chuch to slum-church, ah spilt mah heart\r\nTo some fat cunt behind a screen...\r\n\r\n\r\nEvil poppin eye presst up to the opening\r\nHe'd slide shut the lil perforated hatch...at night mah body\r\nblusht\r\nTo the whistle of the birch\r\nWith a lil practice ah soon learnt to use in on mahself\r\nPunishment?! Reward!! Punishment?! Reward!!\r\nWell, ah tied on...percht on mah bed ah was...\r\nsticken a needle in mah arm...\r\n\r\n\r\nAh tied off! Fucken wings burst out mah back\r\n(Like ah was cuttin teeth!!)\r\nAh took off!!!\r\n(Rats in Paradise! Rats in Paradise!)\r\nThere's a mutiny in Heaven!\r\n\r\n\r\nOh Lord, ah git down on mah knees\r\n(Ah git down on mah knees and start to pray)\r\n\r\n\r\nWrapped in mah mongrel wings, ah nearly freeze\r\nIn the howlin wind and drivin rain\r\n(All the trash blowin round 'n' round)\r\n>From slum-heaven into town\r\nAh take mah tiny pain and rollin back mah sleeve\r\n(Roll anna roll anna roll anna roll)\r\nAh yank the drip outa mah vein! UTOPIATE! Ah'm bailin out!\r\nUTOPIATE!\r\nIf this is Heaven ah'm bailin out!\r\nMah threadbare soul teems with vermin and louse\r\nThoughts come like a plague to the head...in God's house!\r\nMutiny in Heaven!\r\n(Ars infectio forco Dio)\r\nTo the plank!\r\n(Rats in Paradise! Rats in Paradise!)\r\nAh'm bailin out!\r\n(Hail Hypuss Dermio Vita Rex!)\r\nHole inna ghetto! Hole inna ghetto!\r\n(Scabio Murem per Sanctum...Dio, Dio, Dio)","author":"fresca","parent_id":103132,"mime_type":"text\/plain","created":"2004-02-18 01:47:42","modified":"2004-03-09 22:02:00","fileurl":""}]}