Joe Fathallah

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Original text in yellow, anagram in pink.

The Dog
Ivan Turgenev

Us two in the room; my dog and me.... Outside a fearful storm is howling.

The dog sits in front of me, and looks me straight in the face.

And I, too, look into his face.

He wants, it seems, to tell me something. He is dumb, he is without words, he does not understand himself -- but I understand him.

I understand that at this instant there is living in him and in me the same feeling, that there is no difference between us. We are the same; in each of us there burns and shines the same trembling spark.

Death sweeps down, with a wave of its chill broad wing....

And the end!

Who then can discern what was the spark that glowed in each of us?

No! We are not beast and man that glance at one another....

They are the eyes of equals, those eyes riveted on one another.

And in each of these, in the beast and in the man, the same life huddles up in fear close to the other.

If These Words Were Heard

If these words were heard,
Then animals dashing uninhibited might not be shot for fees
With the nonsense that we make up
Like that itís a light game, and the howls of anguish sound funny.

If these words were heard,
Then cousins of this innocent dog might not die nightly in laboratories
So that humans have face make-up
Whilst Snotty Pharmaceutical Bosses Inc. get even more con money.

Then these words
Send a question to Mankind
That if he were born a dog
Or insect, even
Then would he see himself as them, an insignificant cull?

We need to heed it
Before it is hours late
The deed to plead it
Before it is our fate

To be ashamed at the deaths of our damned teammates.
Whilst we, enmeshed in meanness, cannot then halt the desire for status
And a damn strong denial involved in the hate that ate us.

No more than a warning.

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Flying Without Wings
Westlife

Everybody's looking for that something
One thing that makes it all complete
You find it in the strangest places
Places you never knew it could be

Some find it in the face of their children
Some find it in their lover's eyes
Who can deny the joy it brings
When you've found that special thing
You're flying without wings

Some find it sharing every morning
Some in their solitary lives
You'll find it in the words of others
A simple line can make you laugh or cry

You'll find it in the deepest friendship
The kind you cherish all your life
And when you know how much that means
You've found that special thing
You're flying without wings

So, impossible as it may seem
You've got to fight for every dream
'Cause who's to know which one you let go
Would have made you complete

Well, for me it's waking up beside you
To watch the sunrise on your face
To know that I can say I love you
At any given time or place

It's little things that only I know
Those are the things that make you mine
And it's like flying without wings
'Cause you're my special thing
I'm flying without wings

And you're the place my life begins
And you'll be where it ends
I'm flying without wings
And that's the joy you bring
I'm flying without wings

Dying Without Things
Wet Flies

Since I'm with this voyaging band I fast find
All smooth possessions are what I need.
I've got no clue of how love works,
My wealth and money feed and please my greed.

Now whilst we peter out to nothing,
We glimpse the every joy left behind.
Though I'm searching for the One Ring,
I feel none more like the King,
I'm dying without things.

I'm lucky to meet this one nice-looking chick,
Most funny and pretty one I've seen.
"You.... you.... you fancy we meet for some drinks?"
Ditched though, because Iím screwy as well as mean.

Oh well, you, I'm not really worrying,
To Hell with you, youíre a stupid ass!
You or stuff, I choose fabulous stuff!
To all my stuff I cling,
I'm dying without things.

Unconditionally I could have
Viola, kiwi, koala toy,
Yahoo, Hawaii, guava, vulva!
Deprival, you annoy!

You're seeing the life before the present,
Iffy tramp with a joint in a tent.
The day is feeling blue and lonely,
Since I know not where my stuff went.

I think itís really totally no surprise,
Since my pop lyric is pathetic,
That I'm like dying without things,
'Cause we screech worse than Sting,
I'm dying without things.

You see through all the celebrity,
It's not very funny.
I'm dying without things,
And the poor wealth fame brings,
I'm dying without things.

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Updated: May 10, 2016


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