Guantanamo Poetry Contest
Terrorism detainees find a publisher. This is great. I wonder if al-Qaeda plans to put out any of Daniel Pearl’s haiku, or the sonnets of Nicholas Berg. Think Matt Maupin has penned any doggerel lately?
Here’s al-Jazeera camerman and suspected collaborator Sami al Haj:
When I heard pigeons cooing
Hot tears covered my face
The examples cited are all terkjerkers. I’d like to read the ones that have been classified by US officials. “Shout of Death” sounds like it could be pretty good.
Anyway, how about a Hated Crusader Poetry Contest. I’ll kick it off:
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
In the Hated Crusader Gulag at Guantanamo
It must suck to be you
Welcome Sullivanistas! Please be sure to check the great entries in comments. If you found our poetry reprehensible, you’ll work yourself into a real lather over this. Don’t forget to check in here and vote! A few more nutcases and the Prophet Al Gore may earn his longover nomination for the nod as Savior of Western Civilization. This guy here might be of interest. Like the guy who sent you, he doesn’t actually stand for anything … nothing that makes any sense, anyway … and is carving that out as a moral position. Check your brain stem, or someone’s as yet unborn, at the door. Meanwhile, you guys may need to have a chat with your fellow travellers at the AP. They’re slipping, dangerously close to supporting the hated Crusaders. Oh, by the way, I’m breeding. And doing a damn good job at it if I say so myself. Though I agree with you, I have no idea what I did to deserve any of this.
And a shout out to Malkinites! For a good time follow links above.
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 12:08 pm on Wednesday, June 20, 2007
19 Responses to “Guantanamo Poetry Contest”
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June 20th, 2007 at 2:11 pm
With apologies to Dr. Seuss:
I’m an imam
I’m an imam
Imam I am
That ol’ imam!
That ol’ imam!
I do not like
that ol’ imam!
Do you like
bombs that blam?
I do not like them,
Ol’ imam.
I do not like
bombs that blam.
Would you blow them
here or there?
I would not like them
here or there.
I would not like them
anywhere.
I do not like
bombs that blam.
I do not like them,
Ol’ imam.
Would you blow them
in a house?
If you missed them,
would you grouse?
Would you put them
in a toy?
Would you strap them
them on a boy?
Would you? Could you?
In a car?
Blow them! Blow them!
Here they are.
You may like them.
You will see.
You may like them
in a tree!
A train! A train!
A train! A train!
Could you, would you,
on a train?
Say! In the dark?
Here in the dark!
Would you, could you, in the dark?
Would you, could you, in the rain?
You would, you could, you would, I know
Because you like to make things blow,
You would do it in a house,
If you missed, you would grouse.
You would put them in a toy,
You would strap them on a boy.
You would do it in a car
On a train
In a tree
In the dark
In the rain.
You love your bombs, ol’ imam
Because you twist and turn Islam
So killing people is not haram.
June 20th, 2007 at 2:38 pm
Inspired, Rebecca!
June 20th, 2007 at 2:42 pm
A haiku:
Terrorists cry out
Torture, pain, and punishment
There was no dessert
June 20th, 2007 at 3:19 pm
[...] Jules Crittenden is a poet! Date Posted: Wednesday, June 20th, 2007 by rightwingprof Categories: GWOT, Wackjobs Trackback URI (right-click) [...]
June 20th, 2007 at 5:19 pm
A Quick Index To Today’s Posts, Quick Hits, Open Post
Some things worth knowing about that I didn’t devote separate posts to: The North Tower collapse: A computer simulation
June 20th, 2007 at 6:10 pm
Will a limerick suffice?
There was a jihadi with a desire
To burn infidels in a lake of fire
But imagine his chagrin
When some big American men
Looked him up behind rolls of barbed wire
June 20th, 2007 at 6:12 pm
And of course I meant “locked him up behind rolls of barbed wire.” Darned fingers getting ahead of my brain again …
June 20th, 2007 at 8:25 pm
The Poems of Gitmo
Get out the barf bag. One can almost envision the poetry readings of psychopathic Islamofascists at college campuses nationwide. Heck, they’ll probably be required reading before long.
June 20th, 2007 at 11:52 pm
Second Thoughts
I think that I have never seen,
A poem as lovely as a U.S. Marine,
Standing there, so tall and straight,
He feeds me through an iron grate,
You know, jihad don’t make much sense,
When seen from behind a chain-link fence,
If I ever get out, t’ain’t goin’ back,
Gonna sail to Miami in a Cadillac
Gonna get me a green card, some damn way,
Sing the Star Bangled Banner the live-long day,
And when I say my prayers at night,
Won’t waggle my ass at an obscene height,
Gonna get down on my knees and pray,
Thank you ,JESUS, for the USA!
June 21st, 2007 at 6:36 am
Er, make that Star SPANGLED Banner.
June 21st, 2007 at 7:49 am
We understand, Paco. As the head of a world wide conglomerate, it’s tough speaking or typing to us little folks….:).
Speaking/typing OF…How is that Marine of yours?
June 21st, 2007 at 8:02 am
Rebecca, jimbo, Paco, TRJS.
All wonderful, jimbo, I thought a limerick a drink. TRJS, haiku WOW. And here I was thinking ritual suicide.
June 21st, 2007 at 5:22 pm
Morning sun on Muslim face
my scope zero’d in
BANG, you’re-dead
Terrorists
Taken by the USA
in Gitmo
Say Goodbye
One between the eyes
Stupid terrorist
Laughing
Too much fun
Gitmo Forever
Subverting principles
gathering terrorist scum
I’m ok with it
June 21st, 2007 at 5:24 pm
On his head
Terrorist has panties
Boo Hoo
June 21st, 2007 at 5:28 pm
If muslim terrorist scum
scream
in hallowed halls of Cuba
do we care?
Not really!
If muslim terrorist scum
bleed
in small cells in Guantanamo
do we care?
Naw
If muslim terrorist scum
dine
on U.S Tax payer funded kosher meals
do we care?
Hell Yes!
June 21st, 2007 at 10:18 pm
From my doggerel “Thoughts of a Young Muhajid”
And that brings my thoughts back to Tahrir and his butt,
It reminds me of a sheep that I kept in my hut,
Back in old Pakistan, where the Talibs were gay,
And the camels, and sheep, and boys ran away,
And if he doesn’t like it, and I can’t get him drunk,
Then I’ll call him takfir, and force open his trunk.
And when the dawn comes, I’ll check the bomb in the truck,
And leave on my mission, praise Allah for my luck,
For I’ve lived a bad life, sinned thousands of times,
With opium, women, boys, whisky, and crimes.
Now three score and twelve sloe eyed virgins await,
My express ride to heaven on ammonium nitrate.
Oh Hizbut, oh his butt, oh Hizbut Tahrir,
I crashed into a schoolyard, no Americans here.
Now I see, they are Shi’ites, it was not a mistake,
See them play, Press the trigger, and the Earth WILL SHAKE!
June 21st, 2007 at 10:21 pm
Errrrrmmmmm, Thoughts of a Young Mujahid. DOH!
Is this comment thread cursed with typos?
June 21st, 2007 at 10:56 pm
[...] would be helping out Jules Crittenden (who we love for his extensive G.I. Joe collection) with his Gitmo poetry contest, the poor dear was truly at sea. “What rhymes with ‘despicable’?” she [...]
June 22nd, 2007 at 12:34 am
This poet warehouse, this abode of bards,
Of literary plowshares, lately swords,
Semtex quatrains, martyrdom denied,
This fortress built by Cheney for himself
That he might better wield the hand of war,
This happy hoosegow place, this little world,
This holstered sidearm worn with green fatigues
A prop for UN oratory bursts
To bang the lectern with and wave around
And thus dispel the vile Imperialist plots–
This blessed cage, this hole, this clink, this Gitmo
*****************************************************************
Whenas in niqab Fullah goes
Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows
The Fard effacement
of her nose
When next I spy
th’accoutrement
All of a sudden bravely rent
I sigh, “Alas, work accident.”
Also posted at judeopundit.blogspot.com