TWO SHOES

How could M. al-Zaidi throw two shoes
At Bush before anybody got to him?
How could he bend down twice
Picking a shoe each time he did
Without anybody getting to him?

It’s not like taking two pistol shots
Just draw once and pull the trigger twice

It’s bending to pick a shoe and unleashing it
Then bending again for another and unleashing it
How did M. al-Zaidi manage that at Bush
Before anyone got to him to unleash a push
With what we know of US Secret Service?

M. al-Zaidi, an Iraqi journalist,
In the heart of the Middle East
The citadel of ruthless suicide bombers
Thought Bush a sitting duck for shoe-shots
On that last surprise visit
But to M. al-Zaidi's surprise,
Bush ducked both shots
Before any could get to him

How could M. al-Zaidi throw two shoes
At Bush before anybody got to him?
How could he bend down twice
Picking a shoe each time he did
Without anybody getting to him?

Someone should have got to either the shoes
Before they overflew Bush's headspace
Or to M. al-Zaidi before he even unleashed them
Better still, before the idea was even mooted

What if he was another shoe bomber?
With abundant chance to try it twice
Those shoes could have exploded in Bush's vicinity
Worse still, Bush was still there
When both shoes landed, one after another

What if the shoes were meant to explode on impact?
M. al-Zaidi would have claimed a US President's life
As he stood there with Nuri al-Malikki
The Prime Minister of Iraq
Within the vicinity of the two shoes

like Manhattan's Twin Towers
targets of two planes of 9/11
Seven years later
Bush and al- Malikki,
targets of two shoes of 14/12

An Iraqi would have scored a first
Assasinating a US President on Iraqi soil
At the tail end of Bush's Presidency

M. al Zaidi, that Iraqi, stole the spotlight
Off G.W.B’s last visit in the Middle East

Joburg SA
On GWB's visit to Zambia Dec 02, 2011

Not Lived in Vain

Emptiness creeps into the heart every now and again,
A feeling of Loss for a life lived in vain,
Skipping the gaps and Cherishing the scarce Cherries,
Connecting the few Sparks on a Dark Path
And Counting them as Blessings,
For nothing is worth the Gain
Without mourning with Anguish and Pain
The Darks and Brights lost on this Journey
Holding Dear the Lessons Learnt and Dues Paid
To give the Breath ahead a Worthy Stay
Otherwise, I trudge in Vain With Utter Dismay
'Tis why I love You Still,
Come what may, how ever you feel!