Lord Byron was a poet. Every kid not in a Mad-Rats-Asses school has heard of him—or should have. In the full bloom of life Lord Byron ran off to Greece to fight the Turks. He was planning an attack on the Turkish fortress of Lepanto when he caught cold and died. William Haines Lytle was also a poet. He wasn’t quite as good or as well known as Lord Byron but he was good enough. He wrote Anthony and Cleopatra.

“And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian!

Glorious sorceress of the Nile,

Light the path of Stygean horrors

With the splendor of thy smile;

Give the Caesar crowns and arches,

Let his brow the laurel twine,

I can scorn the Senate’s triumphs.

Triumphing in love like thine.”

He ran off to fight for the North in the American Civil War. He was commanding a brigade in Phil Sheridan’s Division when he was mortally wounded at Chickamauga.

A fellow named Kilroy wrote only three words—the epic Kilroy was here! It was easy to remember. GIs took a liking to it and scrawled the century’s shortest poem on everything they came across between Normandy and Berlin. It was said a high-ranking German General offered a large reward for the capture of Kilroy.

And then there was Steve Allen. Steve was always on the lookout for new poets. Where have all the poets gone he asked and he offered this by the Silhouettes. Who can forget: Get a job?

Sha na na na sha na na na na

Every morning about this time

she get me out of my bed

a-crying get a job.

After breakfast, everyday,

she throw the want ads right my way

And never fails to say

Get a job.

Sha na na na na Yip yip yip yip Get a job.

Well—where have all the young poets gone? There are no Byrons, no Lytles, no Kilroys—no Silhouettes. Today’s young poets are not fighting to free the Greeks or to end slavery or to push the Nazis out of France or to avoid gainful employment. No, sir, they are rising up from the impoverished masses of the Middle East and North Africa to protect the most peaceful and tolerant religion that has ever existed from the Kafir hordes of America and Israel—the ruthless mercenaries of social change, democracy, artistic license, woman’s rights, mini skirts, Western clothes, clean-shaven faces and the Three Dog Night.

Where have all the young poets gone? Gone to Jihad and You Tube everyone! Typical of the new breed of poet is The Lyrical One. What extraordinary composition! What striking lyrics! What rolling periods! What a concatenation of ideas! The Living Martyr literally oozes from The Lyrical One’s pen! Watch live on barbarindians as she puts words to paper! (Actually she uses a computer but one bit of literary license deserves another) And look at her eyes! Oh, those eyes! Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes? I’ll never love blue eyes again? No! Not at all! Cold, steely, the Bride of Frankenstein! Brown as the waste at the bottom of a cesspool! The last thing Boris Karloff saw before the castle exploded! Be the judge!

The Living Martyr

“The living martyrs are awakening

And Kafirs world seem to be shaking

let us make jihad

move to the front line

to chop chop head off Kafir swine.”

It brings to mind The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Note the double chop—a poetess willing to take chances! And it rhymes! Oh, the amateurs are getting better, bolder; more courageous, thanks to You Tube—also more demented.

With The Living Martyr under her burqa, there was no stopping The Lyrical One. The influence of Hamas Mouse courses through her poesy like soiled diapers through the intestines of an old Billy Goat. But she struggles on. How to behead is early Calvin and Hobbes—without Calvin and without Hobbes. It could have been written by the man that shot George Wallace—or Larry Flynt…it is through the intestine. Read it and scowl.

How to behead

“It’s not as messy or as hard as some may think.

It’s all about the flow of the wrist.

Sharpen the knife to its maximum.

And before you begin to cut the flesh,

tilt the fool’s head to its left.”

To its left? Is this from the Qur’an or from al-Qaeda for Dummies? Of course, if the target is someone like Crocodile Dundee it won’t matter and the assassin will wish he hadn’t sharpened his knife to the maximum.

But in Allah-la-la-land digression is oppression and the poem must go on.

“Saw the knife back and forth.

No doubt that the punk will twitch and scream,

But ignore the donkey’s ass,

And continue to slice back and forth.

You’ll feel the knife hit the wind and food pipe.

But don’t stop.

Continue with all your might.”

Jack the Ripper wrote something like this in the third grade and was canned. But notice how descriptive The Lyrical One is—she uses the words wind and food pipe instead of esophagus or gullet. The Ripper preferred gullet. The overall tone of How to behead offers a clue to the poet’s identity. She could be a halal butcher. They are familiar with twitching, screaming and donkey butts. But onward with the poem:

“About now you should feel the knife vibrate.
You can feel the warm heat being given off.

But this is due to the friction being caused.”

Vibrate? Heat? Friction? There one has it—proof positive that the poet is a halal butcher! Of course, by joining jihad to the slaughterhouse one is sure to create an excessive amount of tripe. And that is clearly the case with The Lyrical One. But no died-in-the-wool poet can leave that much tripe lying around unattended, something must be done with it and what better place to dispose of it than on You Tube. They take all kinds of tripe. There are people who would call How to behead rubbish, but not to worry, You Tube handles rubbish as well as tripe and it is also a good place to store three-day-old possum innards and the unsalted sowbelly that winds up behind the Clampett cabin after the Annual Possum Day Parade.

The Lyrical One finishes with a bleeding ulcer:

“Kafirs, your time will come soon,

and no one will save you from your doom.”

The poet should—sha na na na na Get a job.

The video was posted by barbarindian

To The Lyrical One: “Here come the chopper to chop off your head.” Now that’s poetry!

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(The Lyrical One, Samina Malik, was sentenced to 9 months in jail for violating the 2000 Terror Act. She was found guilty of scrawling extremist thoughts on till receipts at the shop where she worked in Heathrow. The sentence was suspended.)