I am going to conceive a son and name him Adam
As names in our century have become a conviction
A reason for conflict and contradiction
I won’t name him Mohammed or Jesus
I won’t name him Ali or Omar
I won’t name him Saddam or Hussein
I won’t name him Ibrahim or Zakaria
And not even David or George
I fear he grows a racist due to his name
A name of which I am to blame
To foreigners he’s a terrorist
To extremists he’s an infidel
To Shias he’s a Sunni
And to Sunnis he’s a Shia
I fear that he’ll only be worth as much as his name
A name of which I am to blame
I want him to be named Adam, A Muslim, Christian, Jew.
I am going to teach him that his religion is what is nestled in his heart
Not his name
His name of which I am to blame
I’ll teach him about the arab pride illusion
And how humanity is the solution.
I’ll teach him that god lives in hearts and souls before mosques and churches.
I’ll teach him that I began my speech indicating he was a male,
as females in our society are destined to fail.
I’ll teach him that the problem lies in the Arab society tale.

Case in point comprises emotional state of euphoria
would deafeningly, definitely, deliciously get
frenziedly expelled from stadium. Roe ting for
“our boys” packing every last seat in the bleachers
all manner of humankind would (during lulls)

Instagram, Kindle, Messenger, Outlook, Quicken,
Snapchat, Twitter. Santander, Verizon,Wells Fargo
might be sponsors for major competitive challenge.
Zero tolerance imposes winning at all costs versus
grievous miserable rapacious violent yawping

linkedin loss outcome of sporting events. Under
stand able home team owns an advantage (true
for rival players on their turf) predicated on avid
loyal fans boosting morale from family members,

friends, neighbors, et cetera. The ear splitting
roaring cheering hoopla emanating from spectators
(housed in relatively close proximity to handsomely
paid putting Pontius Pilate and bad *** Brutus brutes

rolled into one mean human fighting machine.
This previous comment meant as an honorable
kickstarter, hyperbolic endearment. My humblest apology
if said statement misinterpreted as a NON off fence sieve

strong moderate slight against any creed, race, religion,
et cetera. I merely sought an analogously effective
impact asper these hypothetical Popeye muscle
bulging arms length professional athletes plush residences

lodged in general metropolitan area to rubber baby
buggy bumper screaming banshee spectators. A
winning score affiliated with bruising, cutthroat,
dynamo...fierce-some giant, heaving, indomitably

jinxed, “killer” macho no nonsense, outlandish packed
quintessentially robust searing troopers translates
into utter screaming, quaking outrageous merciless
krazy individuals generating ecstatic cacophony
airing zeal! If (dog forbid) the richly paid, namebrand
looming kneecapped kneeling illustrious giant egghead
con cussed career athletes fumble, crumble and bumble

spelling a loss for those spectators (who doled out
a *** of cash) quickly make collective disappointment
known by cursing, first in ****, odiously reprehensible,
unacceptable wimpy yikyaking atrocious carpetbombing
expletives. As a casual observer (albeit also participant
within the human league of billions within the culture
club sans crowded house), no shortage of opportunities

avail themselves to scrutinize the man knee ting man
contention upon this oblate spheroid (densely populated
globular planet), these myopic brown eyes of mine need
not pay per view to witness austerity, depravity, gravity,

et cetera manifold gamut of Primate (particularly ****
Sapien) behavior. Raucous, querulous, perilous, obnoxious,
notorious...actions prompt me to intervene as referee.
I would fear for my life if one to many excessive acts
of kindness would require specialists to scrape my pan
caked body electric off the sidewalk. A similar outcome

would most likely transpire if this totally tubular troubadour
disgust religion. As a tried and true value adherent of atheism,
a vociferous, rapacious, nefarious, *******, fractious Bible
thumping religious dogmatic character would expend every
last ounce of fire and brimstone to proselytize me. Thus

when infrequently conversing about one or the other
aforementioned verboten topics de jure, I consciously
exhibit genuine indifference keeping mum. Obvious
quietness sidesteps ugly wickedness.

Your anonymous, curious, erroneous garrulous, hip poe
***** mass stir wordsmith Matthew Scott Harris

I will always be a Siebert
I will live and die a Siebert

I will die before you do
My soul escaped my body,
in that glass box

My father
this man they all loathe
But cannot ****

They will **** me
Me and brother
never belonged

We have his blood
we were both strapped to a machine
We were both stricken of life

Lungs scarred
The voices are genetic
This introvert loneliness

This manic death
Slowly consuming me
I walk with my father's name

His shadow over my crown
This jewish rat! This stupid blonde dead baby
I will never belong

My brother calls out
He has my eyes
He sees what I see

Born of the same stock
Faces lost in books
Perspective of the world
from the view of education

Horst? Can you hear me
I am my father's daughter
I will always be a Siebert
This is how I will die

Like you, I will die young
I will never marry
I will never bear children

I am nothing, nemo
The name will die with me
But I am his daughter

They will dance on my grave
Or they will mourn the loss of their scapegoat

My body is hallow
I lost my soul
God forgive me

Saul is his hebrew image
Where is he now?
Dead, the man I knew is dead

The star of David
they all mock
But they forgot

How history repeats itself
How the creeping of death is vast
Silent on cold dark nights

To die is easy, to live is hard
I will die a Siebert
I will be eternal in my Father's name
That is my crime
and it will **** me

It killed me then
It just didn't take the body

God did not intend you to die
He intended you to live

For all the abuses
For all the suffering
For each and every wound
God gave you a gift

This weaponry, this arsenal, this armour
Of talents, arts, voice
is a fire to the demons in your head

Purge the monsters
Purify them with your fire
God is always with you
God did not let you suffer in vain
He did so, so, you may learn
learn to survive, to fight, to win

Survival is in your family
It is in your *blood
Your Mother, Grandfathers
Great Grandparents

You are of the land of the dragon
You are of the land of God
Your blood of warriors Celtic born
Your blood is of Moses and Abraham

Your blood will pass onto your daughter
In your womb, lies the power of creation
The gift of life, to forge a soul

In your womb is the blood of Ariel
In your womb is the blood of Cymru
God did not intend you to die
He intended you to live
To live, to survive, to fight
Is in your *blood

Hark! These creatures of catacombs
Furrows and the weeping ribbons
Forsooth great beasts took a turn here
When the mind accustoms itself to violence
It bestows it….broken as the temple falling
The sword by Israel's cry!
Ghosts of the borderline!
Ghosts of the borderline!
Traumatic as hymens torn
By hands unclean by demons born
The ***** twas not consenting forlorn
Too many nights passing to the dawn


Allow when Yosef comes, his predator expression
For my milk drop flesh, he claims doth conquer
The chains of slavery he forged by Irish blood
Born from the veil of wedlock
Out of sullen sin, between husband and mistress
He took to which he hath none
Purple hues adorn the shoulder
Bare before the creases of blood
These years could not tamper the memories


So in night shade, among the ghouls
There is a hovering silver sheen
Groped by the tiny digits
I shall be its sheaf
Psychosis the cascade of reality
The distortion of time and space
An all hallows eve, the sabbath of subconscious monsters
The manic and depressive are the swinging of the pendulum
And the ****** of thy hand is the dawn of God
I fall, the intoxicating pearls down my throat
Reek in my blood, Jewish blood, Welsh blood, tainted blood
The dizzy fortitude to collapse
Will alter the reality and silence the darkness
Of faces disfigured, in death they have no stance
Thus my torment hath come to end
I give way, the sweep of the fall
Fall onto my sword…
Away from the worlds of disturb content
Away from the sacred flesh scarred and mangled
Away from the deep cavern of endless thought
To God and to my ancestors, who saw with no eyes fit to see
But see nethertheless my frail state of a tipping scale
I fall onto my sword, distressed as Saul