Isam Hussain

Rookie - 33 Points (8-12-1938 / Iraq)

Isam Hussain Poems

1. A Game Of Bridge 5/16/2013
2. A Momement To Remember 5/16/2013
3. A Painting Of Modern Art 5/16/2013
4. A Play Called 'The Coming Of Day' 5/16/2013
5. A Silly Poem 5/16/2013
6. All Will Be Well 5/16/2013
7. Answered Prayer 6/10/2013
8. Autumn 5/16/2013
9. Autumn Leaves 5/16/2013
10. Backwards To The Future 5/17/2013
11. Belief And Unbelief 5/17/2013
12. Breaking Free Is Hard To Do 5/17/2013
13. Caged 5/17/2013
14. Calvi In Corsica 5/17/2013
15. Changing Places 5/17/2013
16. Christmas - The Lost Hope 5/17/2013
17. Christmas Day 5/17/2013
18. Colours And Shades 5/17/2013
19. Dalliance 5/17/2013
20. Desiderata (Desired Things) 3/16/2015
21. Even Angels Grow Old And Forgetful 5/17/2013
22. Faewell My Brother-In-Law 5/19/2013
23. Faith 5/19/2013
24. Farewell Hilda Simon 5/17/2013
25. Farewell Joe 5/19/2013
26. Forlorn Hope 5/19/2013
27. Friends At A Distance 5/19/2013
28. From A Jack To A King 5/19/2013
29. Frozen In Time 5/19/2013
30. Gaddafi 5/19/2013
31. Genesis, Then And Now 5/19/2013
32. God Confesses 5/19/2013
33. God's Oversight 5/19/2013
34. Gold-Silver-Bronze 5/19/2013
35. Good Friday 5/19/2013
36. Happiness Second Time Round 5/20/2013
37. Happiness Will Not Pass Me By 4/1/2010
38. History Is Bunkum 5/20/2013
39. Holy Week - I Was There 5/20/2013
40. Hypocracy 5/21/2013
Best Poem of Isam Hussain

Belief And Unbelief

Sceptics say God is an illusion,
a figment of human imagination,
a sure sign of self-delusion;
they deride the contradiction
that pervades our diction
as we speak of our conviction.

Sceptics make accusations,
hastily raise objections,
they sow the seed of confusion;
weave a web of deception
to avoid giving us their solution
to the mystery of Life and Creation.

They present their case plausibly,
quoting Hawking and Darwin readily:
the Big Bang is the origin of Creation,
and Life is rooted in Evolution;
they urge us to ...

Read the full of Belief And Unbelief

A Game Of Bridge

The pack is shuffled and cut,
the dealer gives each his lot.
I sense Hope welling up within,
whispering, “It is your turn to win”.

I pick up my allotted share,
expecting a set good and fair;
a hand I can play with flair.
My Hope is dashed, I despair.

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