The Inside Assyria Discussion Forum #5

=> Last One Out, Turn Out The Lights

Last One Out, Turn Out The Lights

Posted by pancho (Moderator) - Friday, August 19 2011, 16:36:32 (UTC)
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...I'm sorry, but just because you want to commemorate three deaths doesn't give you license to make people cringe....

Oscar Wilde said about Dickens' tear-jerking "Little Dorrit", that "it takes a hard-hearted man NOT to laugh". The sentimental dribble expressed in this poem goes right to the heart of what is wrong with being "assyrian". These people are so puffed up by this claim that they feel it gives them immunity from ever caring or watching what they do...as we hear so often when one levels deserved criticism "whatever he is, he is ASSYRIAN"...like after you've said that, what more can be said?

Well, if someone should trip over this poet in the dark and accidentally kill him, it will be no loss except maybe to his mother....maybe.

I add my own improved version....or at least one that's just as good.

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THREE LIGHTS WENT OUT IN ASSYRIA
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Three lights went out in Assyria
The day God called you home
And once again a nation mourned
For three souls of its own

.....It's dark in Assyria
Cock-a-roaches freely roam
When you didn't come home
I wrote this poem

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There was no time to say goodbye
No time for hows? or whys?
No time to give mum one last kiss
Or tell her not to cry

...My mum could have stopped me
Before I came of age
At least she could have strapped me
Inside a gilded cage
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Three mothers’ nightmares came to life
Three fathers forced to grieve
Brothers, sisters, family, friends
Are trying to conceive

...That's a lot of conceiving
In one family tree
Brothers sister and mothers
All fucking gieviously

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Two brothers took their sisters hand
But why.. we’ll never know
Oh Lord what did you say to them
To make them want to go?

....Oh Lord, what the fuck?
Had you nothing better to do?
You killed your own son
did you have to get mine too?
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Three lives with so much promise
Denied the chance to live
Three souls that met a bitter end
Had so much more to give

...Three Musketeers is a dandy
promise of such great candy
Three sweet souls
but not a touch of brandy

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I know they say it was Gods will
And that may be the case
But try to tell a grieving mum
She’ll never see their face

...This god's a whore
to take from mums
three sweet faces, at his will
he never gave without taking more

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Try to make this mum believe
That God thought it was best
To take the purest love she knew
And tear it from her chest

...Mum's chest is heaving
what with loss and grieving
Hard it is to make mum believe
that god hasn't more up his sleeve
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She carried this child for nine whole months
And fed it from her womb
Now tell this mother that she must place
Her baby in a tomb

...at least Mums didn't crucify
their dear babies three
God had them drowned
Instead of nailed to his tree.
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Try to make her understand
Her baby girls not there
Nor will she wear that long white dress
Or flowers in her hair

...It's hard to make mums understand
that god plays with a dirty hand
He stains the flowers and her babies
with his holy, hellish rabies

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Tell her dad his chance has gone
To walk her down the aisle
Or lift her veil to show the world
His daughters dazzling smile

...Smiles all gone
no aisles, no walks
and the veil's been lifted
showing god's filthy throne
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Try to tell them fate stepped in
And this was meant to be
Let them know the sons they raised
Won’t have a family

..God's a funny guy
All misery is meant to be
but smiles are accidental
This god's insane and his people gone mental
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No longer will they celebrate
The day their child was born
A new day has been added now
And every year they’ll mourn

..God fills the calendar
with his miserable morals
Careless children slip and die
Without that bastard in the sky

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They’ll look at photos from time to time
And wish that time stood still
As memories all come flooding back
And teardrops start to spill

...This poem has me confused
is it better to be with god
or down here, still a clod?

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They’ll play each memory in their mind
The first tooth and first smile
They’ll pause and stop, rewind again
And watch them for a while

...My teeth are aching
is it heartbreaking
to go to god
or not?
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And there’ll be times they’ll dream of them
Laughing with no fears
But then they’ll wake and realise
Their pillow’s stained with tears

...okay
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The only comfort that we have
Is that they weren’t alone
We know our brothers would never leave
Our sister on her own

..oh great! You idiot poet
should ten more have gone to glory
just to keep those three company?

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Fly with angels way up high
Fulfil your hearts desire
Ramina, forever play your flute
In heavens holy choir

Heaven's holy choir
makes naught but jangling music
sounds more like hell by the hour
and your angels more like furies
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Your home is now with Lord our God
From now you’ll sit with kings
You lived your life with dignity
You three have earned your wings

Fuck the kings
and god's home and halls
and keep the wings
I could have used to escape the falls.
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Copyright © 2011 W Gabriel Dinkha
All Rights Reserved

...screw you and your copyright
I've just made hash of both
and come and see our river's froth
and earn your true birthright.

...no rights reserved.

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