Poetry: The Gun and The God:

Now, in this coffee cup
Bush and Putin float to the top.
Heated talk over
Blair's prostitution.
They fly with coffee mist.
We hear lies, we hear bluff.
Middle east will be free
starting from Tigris, Euphrates.
So the bombing is sacred.
Are you a terrorist?
Boys , we are at the doorstep of twenty first century.
The crusade and Jihad are well alive
by guns, by the name of God.
Hundreds of thousands life have been destroyed.
We know for sure, these are the traitors,
war mongers, insurgents, terrorists.
I am America, I am America, I am.
Our men are the leaders of civilization
The most modern people.
We have the peace bomb.
Your bombs are not that peaceful.
By the name of humanity,
our peace bombs kill humanely.
Your bombs are not that humane.
Still, oil pipes travel over countries
piercing the hearts.
Bush, Putin and Rumsfeld
rape our realm of sanity.
In this meaningless coffee cup
raising storm is useless.
The lamb has been sacrificed, long ago.
I shall have my dinner now, delicious fillet mignon.
A Cohiba with scotch after.
It is not the Bush, not the Blair.
We are the bastard children
of the pseudo intellectuals.