PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Before all these neo-wars

The cunning Europeans

Pillaged the Indians

Slaughtered their buffaloes

Herded them into reservations

Starved them to death

And when his child asked

"Daddy are there any good Indians?"

Daddy replied, "The only good Indian

Is a dead Indian."







Then during

The Spanish inquisition

Kids were told of how

The mighty Spaniards

Discovered the New World

How they built towns

Brought civilization

Built by the sweat

And on the backs of Indians

Still brings throes

Whose blood still flows

From every tributary

To every estuary

Whose curse still

Echoes with chill

And still stings

With woeful rings

In the whiteman's ear

In his restless sphere





Anybody home?

Hi! You're home

And how was your day?

"Well, let's see

It was awfully good

We encountered some chinks

Burnt a few Villages

Boy! You should hear

Those kids scream

When they felt the fire hoses

We had roast pig for dinner

After we cleared the huts"



The brave Canadian soldier

Returned from Somalia

And when asked by his kid

“What you did Daddy?”

He said "We caught

Some niggers stealing food

We really shit on him

Beat the shit out of him

And left no marks

It was not too bad

Actually it was better

Than our hazing”



Long ago when the soldier

Returned from the south

After a day in the Civil War

Which was not civil

He told his kid

"We found a plantation

Burnt it to the ground

Lynch the blacks

After a few setbacks

Raped the servants

And pillaged the mansions

Despite the women's lamentations

They were no match

For our bayonets"





During World War II

The Nazi told his daughter

Of his day with the Fuhrer

"We herded sixteen car loads

Of wretched traitorous Jews

And had the privilege

Of turning on the gas

The Furher himself

Was very pleased

That's how I got

My Medal of Honour”



When Russia disintegrated

As its ideologies abated

The Bosnians told his grands

Of his trying demands

How he sniped a few passers-by

See how they run!

How they raped the women

Butchered the men

So that there would be many

More Bosnians

Than Serbs

It was a good day



And men still talk

And historians squawk

Of how their gallant

Gaelic forefathers

Brave the Atlantic waters

To bring labour

To the plantations

How they fooled the Negroes

Forcing them as they chose

Mirrors and coloured beads

Instead of know-how and seeds

How they civilized the natives

And with their sweat and tears

They have built the West

How they tried the same

With indentured servants

Making them mendicants

And got away with it

For the second time

Ah those naive natives!



And Black Chiefs

Tell their pickaninnies

How they used blow-darts

To scare away the whiteman

How the Caucasian

Spat in their faces

When they demand

“Give me back my land

Save me the trouble

Take back your bible”



And dauntless men chat

Smoked pipes and spat

Around the campfires

Lifting their jugs

With languid mugs

And tell intrepid stories

Of their hoaxed glories

Of how they shot

The biggest elephant

Brought down the

Now extinct Bengal tiger

With one lil' bullet

A whole 100 yards away

How that trophy on the wall

Took my crew and all its gall

The good old days

When men had their ways

Now stifled

And rifled

By so-called specialists

By environmentalists

Black Greenpeace

And the goody two-shoes.



And how was your day today Daddy?