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They shoot poets, don’t they? (For the poet Abdullah Atefi killed by the Taliban, and those left in fear)

He never thought he’d be killed

By words

That freely come to your mind


Took for granted

That his thoughts could run free,

Across the city

Climb up mountains

And settle on the land


Then one night…

He was dragged out of his bed

And shot in the head


Because the stench of death

Has run riot in the streets

The Taliban snuffing out


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Do they know about Christmas in Pakistan?

Has anyone told the Taliban?

Those callous corrupters of the Koran

Who slaughter kids because they can.


"Suffer little children to come unto me" -

Christ's words resonate with minds that are free

But not with Hate on a killing spree

"Suffer...little children!" is Hate's decree.


Do they understand Christmas in Pakistan?


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Third Sonnet

The Taliban of Christianity,

Are guardians of our nation’s moral health,

Protecting men from femininity,

They worship pomp, and privilege, and wealth.

They disapprove of how and whom we love,

Deny our civil right to earn a crust,

To work in schools for our Lord above,

Those bigots trample freedom in the dust.

No paedophiles then, in the Church of Rome?

In Opu...

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