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A Poem for the Saudi King

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Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Martin Dempsey, is sponsoring an essay contest to honor the deceased King of Saudi Arabia—former leader of one of the most repressive countries on earth. Now I am not that smart—to write an essay—but hopefully they will include my poem in the contest…

Roses are red, Violets are blue,
It is hard to put into words, My feelings for a man, who most likely, hated every Jew.

Obama bowed down to you, Treated you with dignity,
You should have felt honored, He would not even have his picture taken with Bibi! (Netanyahu)

Tony Blair said you were loved by your people, A beacon of hope,
So, your religious police oppress your people, It’s not like you’re the pope.

I am told that you had, A pimp-hand strong,
Jailing your freedom-seeking daughters, Don’t they know, Freedom for women—it’s wrong!

While we know you’re not Al Qaeda, Bin Laden or ISIS,
Without your radical, oppressive version of Islam, The world would not find itself in this present terror crisis.

“We lost a revered leader,” Said the former Swift boat sailor,
He didn’t come to your funeral, But he’s going to Skype a duet in your honor with his friend, James Taylor.

Under your reign, There was a record number of beheadings,
You still allowed child-brides, So many joyless and perverted weddings.

Under a male guardian, All your women must be,
They cannot travel or receive medical attention, Unless they get him to agree.

You’re the only nation on earth, Where women can’t drive,
Basic things most women enjoy, You oppressively deprive.

Don’t practice another religion, Saudi Arabia’s Wahhabism forbids it,
Converting is illegal, Islam will not permit it.

It is punishable by death, Honor killings are encouraged,
“Kill the traitor!” Lest the poison of Jesus be allowed to flourish.

House churches you raid, You imprison many a pastor,
We’ll overlook this, Just produce oil faster.

Women, make sure you are not raped, Your own family may have the answer,
Your rapist may walk free, While your relatives cut you out, like a surgeon would cancer.

Through your riches in oil, You fund Sunni terror,
But just be our ally, We’ll tell our people, any criticism of you, well, it must be in error.

Honor to you, Politicians and Generals seek to bring,
Despite your lack of human rights and freedoms, They treat you like a king.

Oh, that’s right, it was your title, On this earth, your bore,
But now you stand before a real King, Your life, you must now give an account for.

The End.

First published at MessiahsMandate.org



 

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