Alam sent these poems in solidarity with the people of Iran

Alam sent the below poems to show her solidarity with the people of Iran:

Daddy Dear

Daddy Dear, where’s the love
In all your control
Quoting the Koran
While you’re living off the dole
Where’s the integrity
Of your soul?

Daddy dear, my mind is not yours
Let me go through
Those college doors
So what if I speak to some boys
Against what’s natural
Must you wage wars?
Don’t terrorise us with those
Medi-evil, sharia laws

Daddy dear, put down that knife
My brothers go to brothels
And cheat on gorees galore
Why must I be the sacrifice?
So you want my obedience
At any price?

Ah, daddy so you are judge, jury and
Executioner,
And if this is my last day
With my last breath I pray
May the British law punish you
Cos sharia law doesn’t.

In memory of all the brave people, fighting the shackles of torturing traditions everywhere.

Before they can dream any dreams

There was a time when men were kind
When their words were soft
And women were wooed
In the Meccan desert
And the Afghani mountains
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was such a time
And then it all went wrong

For a psychopath, he came along
He built up a gang an’ called them Believers
He changed the rules, he changed the rites
Our ancient goddesses he killed
And put his allah in their place
Love was outlawed and dowries installed
And rich old paedophiles could marry a child
No soft looks
No tender hugs

Now the Bearded Believers come at night
With their dreams of paradise
And they shoot to kill girls going to school
And bomb female doctors and strangle dancers
No woman’s allowed to live her dream
Oh Muslim men have you no shame

Muslim men are the guards,
Women and girls their prisoners
To be ploughed like a field
A clod of earth at his command
The mothers have suffered,
The same fate and
So the Stockholm syndrome rules their brain

Where is the love, where is the honour
Some degradations no soul can weather
Don’t look up, don’t laugh out,
Do not think, do not sing
So each generation of girls’ souls killed,
Their bodies covered up
Oh Muslim men have you no shame

You hypocrites, hiding behind
That psychopathic creed
Your youth are labelled apostates
If they want to leave
And them you kill
Before they can dream
Their own dreams.

Mad-Rassa Made

Oh my darlin little hungering Babe
Brought up in a mad-rassa where
Bearded old men, brainwashin you
With one hand they fed your belly
With the other they sought

Only to control
That was see, their only goal
And with blood-drenched ink
Drawn from their soul-less Koran….x2

…They wrote Jihad on your Forehead
As they scribbled accusations
‘Gainst all humans
They drew big-eyed houris
Above your lonesome bed,
And while you be sleep
They busy gluing your Feet
To the front lines of their battle
To them, your life’s just a passing death rattle
To be sacrified like a goat at Eid….x2

Oh My little darlin Orphan Child
Must you kill, when you haven’t even lived
Open your eyes to the blue skies inside
See how their words are, a hollow bribe
There really was no one Holy Scribe,

No Angel Gabriel
And no messenger of God,
Is asking you to kill any chance passersby
Their jihad, and jahunnam
Just tactics tricking you into, reasons to die…x2

But live, little 11 year old Child, Be Mine
Don’t let those power thirsty bearded old men
With sly tongues and dark hearts and hatred beyond ken
Steal your life for their power and pleasure
For your life is yours, a part of Nature’s treasure

Look out of your cell and study the stars,
Break out of those satanic bars
Coming out of that hypnotic trance, just blink
In Friendship you’ll find Universal Truths washing away their stink
Once washed free of that blood-drenched koranic ink.

You’ll be free to live, not live to kill,
You’ll be free to live, not forced to kill,
Child, Be Free, to Love and to Live.