The greatest trick the devil plays on man is to make him believe he is free.
Far away in the hills, there lived this big, proud old man, with his wife and many young children. This man was larger than life, extremely generous and caring to his dependants, but at times he could be cruel and tyrannical. Consequently his children would flee when rage filled him and his wife would weep when anger swelled in his eyes. This old man led his family the way he saw fit, and for many a year lived like a king of his own little world.
By Novid Shaid, 2011
The chairman stood upon the podium, grinning at the seated gentlemen, who sat around their tables which were arranged in their ceremonial shape, and began:
“My dear colleagues and friends! I would like to welcome you to this historic, inaugural Greedlibb conference, which I am confident will develop through the future at great progress. I as the chairman am utterly honoured to be addressing you in this opening speech, before we split into our respective groups for the strategic planning sessions.
Let me inform you of the story of Tariq Azizee
And the life of terrible cruelty he had to bear
Take heed of the tragic tale of Tariq Azizee
Let it balance your hope with some sobriety and fear.
By Novid Shaid, May, 2011
Presenting events like a melodrama or soap
Rousing the masses against an abominable terror
Offloading opinions disguised as facts and info
Promoting a world view pervasively, drip by drip
Anchoring key words with an infamous persona
Generating a narrative against a villain so big
Alarming the populace with growing hysteria
Nurturing nationalism, dissension frowned upon
Dividing the world for a self-serving dividend
A closed group persists and prevails through media.
by Novid Shaid, April, 2011
preparing the ground for
a ground breaking
By Robert Warrenjehad Denser and Anna Arabaiter Cooltar
If the man on the moon were a Mozlem!
Why, I sure wouldn’t be so surprised.
Coz everywhere you step in our nation
There be mosques and their holy cries!
We let them into our blessed borders,
Gave em chances that they never woulda got.
Coz they come from the land of the A Rabs!
From their sultanic satanic despots!
Musty fumes belch out
of Kabul’s downtown sprawling mass
of rambling rickshaws, tooting Toyotas,
trotting horse drawn carts,
heaving and straining
with the weight of rotting carcasses
and the salvaged wreckages of time.
by Novid Shaid, 2006
The screaming of my child,
As she dies of hunger and thirst,
Has destroyed my taste for life
And stuffed me full of emptiness.
Novid Shaid, September, 2010
Once there was a man, who yearned to burn a book,
which millions loved; it was their special book,
its verses had some of them completely hooked;
they were delighted by just a momentary look.
A warm shower of dignified applause
Echoes down the winding road,
As hearses bearing the fallen one,
Glide through, leaving copious tears
And stoic faces in their wake.