those killers of innocents
will die in their own blood

not even mistranslated 72 houris
can save them

   the misguided fanatics of Paris
   who shot happy civilians
   with their Kalashnikovs
   and then blew themselves up
   will have discovered that
   by now

to throw terror and death
into people’s daily lives
is an abominable crime
not a heroic deed

those who instigated the massacre
shall be punished accordingly

fake heroes revealed
as ruthless criminals
shall face judgement

in whose light
their great deeds
are shown as what they are

****** ******

yet – far beyond the proper punishment
    required after cruel acts
there is the need to look ahead
and face the somewhat inconvenient necessity to
    remove the roots of violence veiled as religion
    speak up and stand up firm against fanaticized minorities
        no matter in whose name the claim to act  
    bring peace to regions devastated by the dire games of politics

we simply cannot allow
a bunch of ruthless desperados to dominate our lives

            * *

the self-styled trumpeteers of ethnic hate
wish to build fences
    close the gates
to keep out those who flee
from self-styled trumpeteers of religious hate
who, as it is,
claim to feel called to hold up
ancient teachings that are out of date
in modern democratic times
when neither chimes of church bells
nor the cries of muezzins
or any other servants of religion
rank higher than the people’s democratic vote

as we are told by the elected
trumpeteers of democratic nations

god and the state each get their share
in separate spheres
but do not mix

for me
those who dare violate this rule
just come across as desperate to solve
new problems with old words
look backward and believe
that when they sell regression
     garnished with some bows
it will be seen as progress
make people overlook that
     while they now may live by simple truths
they can no longer disagree
     without the fear of ****** harm

just let us speak out loud and clear
     against the self-styled trumpeteers' song

to **** in the name of whatever god
is always wrong

The magnificent desert landscape
An exploration of ancient history
Your might lighted years ago
Rocky stones,red sands and cliffs
I strayed in your moon-like nature
The wind blew and I lost a breath
Squeezed in the deepest cave
Sipped and splashed the whisky
Mused by the silence you offered
The sandstone eroded and I gasped
The whole being lifted and freed
A Jordan beauty, my pleasant saviour
I forgot of my very own existence
An experience, the reflective moment
As the stars dipped on my sight
You sparked like a longed for knight
The feral me stranded on the desert depths
Stepping the elevated rocks to seek freedom

It's
Already
The
Year
2016/
\hoping
This year
Will be better
Than it
Seems.