An anti-patriotic poem.


To Motherland

I love thou not, o land of high hypocrisy,
My country of the totalitarian democracy!
I'd rather not to hear thy people's speech
Or to behold thy men's disgraceful binge!

I love thou not! If thou be a chariot,
Old steeds are pulling you, the coach's name's Iscariot.
He leads the steeds into the deep abyss,
His visage shines with cunning, gleeful bliss.

You're so repulsive! Thy mentality
In fact is a perfect den of iniquity.
The people of yours disfigure all the face of the Earth,
You're nothing, but a piece of mud and dirt!
August 14-15, 2011




Poetry by Joan Black
Read 774 times
Written on 2011-08-16 at 16:22

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vladimir todor turmanev
I was shocked dismayed and confused,that a child of Mother Russia would spew forth such hatred for our blessed land.Then as I pondered your foto,and read some of your other work,I feel I understand. A pity.
2011-08-18



A nice turn-around on a theme. The last line had me thinking: is it an insult to be called mud and dirt? After all, we owe our lives to the food that grows in the mud and dirt (what is mud but wet dirt)? I think "Mine Russia" requires an insult which doesn't insult.

I'm half teasing. This is all good.

jim
2011-08-16