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ConnectHook Sep 2015
[Infernal Dialectic of Ongoing Struggle]

Spoke Mao Zedong to Kim Jong Ill:
We languish here in deep red hell—
Let us confer and analyze
What factors revolutionize
The contradictions still.


Replied Lil’ Kim: The running dogs
Beguiled by class and capital
Have overdrawn and overspent.
They bank on debt, and make lament
And flounder in their fogs…


Kim chee does stink, but tastes so good
Do have some more, oh comrade Mao.
Fermented cabbage goes so well
With Hennessey and blondes (in hell)
when
Juche’s in da hood!

The Fearless Leader (now a shade)
Responded thus: Just give them time.
Our doctrines spread, their God is dead
Their sons shall sing ‘The East is Red’
Our party’s got it made.


Ill Kim displayed a wicked grin:
Our rocket-launches make them fear
They scold and cluck, and then they duck
While Hillary tries to pass the buck
I think we still could win…


The Chairman thought and sipped some fire
in communistic reverie, and feeling very clever, he
Replied to Ill: This place we’ll fill
with dead reactionaries still—
fifth columns to inspire.

Now let the thousand flowers bloom
And let one thousand thoughts contend.
Remember **? Remember ‘Nam?
We triumphed over Uncle Sam—
He’s limping toward his doom.


A wizened ghost now drifted in
Because his name had been proclaimed
A wispy beard (as yet unseared)
Revealed the mastermind once feared:
Old Uncle ** Chi Minh !

** **—old friend! Draw near! Draw near,
Spoke Mao: In solidarity
We hail your work upon the earth
You showed them what a war is worth
You’re always welcome here.


Ill Kim and I were wondering
How best to make the forward leap—
conspiring ******* their cow
and smoke their duck and drain their sow
while they are buying bling.

** Chi, old warrior, why the frown?
Upon your wisdom now we wait.
The forces red you bravely led
You staked your claim until they bled
And brought their nation down.


Old uncle **, the sage revered,
did smolder with his cigarette.
Viet Cong thought is hard to grasp
It slithers like a jungle asp…
** paused and stroked his beard:

You speak without the people’s light!
I criticize in strongest terms
Your revolutionary thought.
We need to ask our friend Pol ***
How best to steer this fight.

Such gradual change, a halfway measure
stalls the Bourgeoisie’s demise.
Our true Khmer Rouge was not a stooge
of Kapital. His fame was huge
for plundering their treasure.

True, he had to purge his nation
such is revolution, gents…
The traitor classes see the masses,
through reactionary  glasses.
Death or re-education!

We ought to sow his rural seed
for pure agrarian reform.
The bodies in the rice can rot
to fertilize the harvest plot—
the people’s mouths to feed.


When Pol *** heard his tactics lauded
he flew in to join the jabber:
Take a tip from Kampuchea!
Listen well and I will teach ya!

Kim and Mao applauded.

City folk are useless eaters
glasses-wearing foes and cheaters!
let them slave – and always save
their corpses for the fertile grave
Until they love their leaders.

From the barrel power grows—
(I don’t mean kim chee barrel, boys).
Now learn my way.We’ll have our say
Their weakened states will wither away.

The Red dictator rose.

Prepared to ramble on for hours
(the way Fidel so loves to do)
Pol ***’s harangue now fired the gang
like rockets falling on Da Nang
emitting sparks in showers.

Hell is known for lack of stasis—
Sudden throes of quaking fire;
fitful flares from from Satan’s lairs
and constant similar affairs
the population faces…

Thus Saint Pol ***, still naming names
along with Mao and Kim-Jong Il
while ** Chi screamed, and then blasphemed
were swept en masse, and unredeemed
into the surging flames.

Yet still they plotted in the blaze
with dialectic deviousness.
Philosophizing, strategizing
stinking sulphur brimstone rising;
ghosts in the yellow haze . . .

        ☭ END ☭
http://tinyurl.com/q6uyx34

Julie Grenness Oct 2016
An ode from a peaceful visionary.....
If Trump gets the Presidency,
He'll control nuclear weaponry,
Bombs for that reactionary,
Should we be nuking he?
All that negativity and misogyny,
Yes, let's nuke some reactionaries!
Imagine the peace there'd be,
There'd be nothing left on Earth, you see,
So much for democracy,
Let's nuke all those reactionaries!!!
But, hey, then we'd be the reactionaries!!!!!!
Feedback welcome.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
what could possibly be a logical joke,
akin to: 1 + 1 = 2... ha ha! type?
i can't think of logical joke,
comedy is beyond being calculated,
it can be properly
  executed within the realm
of punctuation a drop-line...
  but that's about as far as logic
centers around comedy...
   only recently i revealed
that i am arachnophobic...
   (rob zombie - the girl who loved
the monsters)...
           i am... i see a spider
the size of a thumb...
     i'm like: jeez! get that thing
away from me!
you know how comedy exists
in logic?
             it exists in phobias...
given that phobias are illogical...
well... that's still the antonym of
logic...
  yes... i know the spider
is only the size of my thumb...
but phobias... ha ha!
there's something obvious about
the joke of phobias,
as there's also an ontology binding
them...
  arachnophobia? is spontaneous,
it's a reflex reaction...
  and that's the logical joke...
the illogical fear...
   funny... really funny...
this progressive term...
what is it... hmm...
oh!
    right!
     - this really comes as a reiteration...
how can i be, "islamophobic"?
where's the reflexive reaction
upon seeing a Muslim in full
religious attire?
where's the principle of phobia
being acted on?
the reflex reaction?
where is...
phobias are the jokes of logic,
and the comedy of logic is:
that they summon illogical
reactions to the altar of relativism...
ergo... if i'm scared of
a thumb sized spider in the shed,
i should be scared of my thumbs...
islamophobia is such a made-up
word...
what logic is logic to me,
behind the spider?
            em... i'm trying to tickle
& trickle god into all of this...
but i can't...
what sort of logic is behind
the spider?
   a spider, like all animate beings...
well... even trees are animate...
in slow-motion (phototropism)...
what logic is there?
there is no logic to them...
they are purely empirical reactionaries...
there's no logic,
because there's no consciousness
of thought,
the senses are too inclusive
of themselves,
to allow an exclusivity that
might make their being
impregnated with thinking,
fertile with thought...
ah... i see the joke...
my phobia is funny...
  but...
   ha ha...
    you want to experience
a fear of god?
          find your phobia...
sure, the spider has no knowledge
of logic, but whatever "created"
the spider has placed an irrational
fear of the spider, and lodged
it into my general standard
of logic...
i see the fear of god in a spider,
as i also see the comedy...
phobias are categorized by
irrational reflexes,
   they are a set of cognitive reflexes...
so... why is the term islamophobia
so bogus?
what... you think that when
i see a woman in a burqa
my "natural" reaction is:
a reflex, 'kin to the words:
  oh ****! a suicide bomber!
NO!
     this term is what the ancient
Greeks would call:
what the **** are you talking about?!
(said really quickly).
- but that's the nature
of phobias... and the nature
of the comedy of logic...
it is derived from phobias...
i can acknowledge the comedy
of being "afraid" of spiders...
not all...
   it's not exactly a fear...
it's not a disgust...
it's a reflex reaction i have
inherited...
       from god knows where...
  you can't associate Islam with
an attache of: phobia...
like i said... a phobia is the joke
of my own logical conclusion...
i'm laughing at the illogical
premise... my cognitive reflex
and subsequent ****** reaction...
since there is no logic
behind a spider,
only the illogical pure empirical
functioning of the being...
and... past the "illogical"
nature of the spider -
the logic of a "god"...
    **** contemplating god
using the spider,
and, "the architect" reflected
in the spiderweb...
i'm going after the joke...
but... Islam as a phobia?
last time i heard...
Islam wasn't illogical...
it was just a logic different
to my own...
so... where's the joke?
where's the grand phobic
reflexive stand?
   i'm like the ancient Greeks...
what the **** are you talking
about
   (said really quickly)...
it's no phobia to be apprehensive,
precautionary,
anticipatory...
        a bit like...
ha!
          heating up oil in a frying
pan... and the moment
just before you drop in the potato
chips one by one...
wondering...
   has the water been properly
drained from them?
or hasn't it...
and the oil will go crazy?
that's not a phobia...
   a phobia is the comedy of logic;
but Islam is a logic
of its own kind...
  a phobia is trans-national /
  trans-ethnic, trans-gender, trans per se,
universal...
     so why do i not retract
with a reflex upon seeing a Muslim
in his religious attire?
like i would with a spider
in a shed the size of my thumb?
so... what Islamo-phobia?
Jared A Washburn Jun 2015
Up went the roar of the crowd,
Ascending, volumes above, beyond
The everyday murmur of pestering silence.
A futile struggle to withstand its force,
Like a vast wave, rogue and raging,
Slamming nature, a slap in the face of feebleness,
This crowd roars…

Not anger, not anguish, or grief,
But a prideful scream of declaration;
The masses make it known, and known again,
Fists raised, pulverizing the air to a beat
Of human design, of togetherness, of solidarity
In the fight for those like us, a howl,
This crowd roars…

Stampeding feet berate the beaten earth,
Invigorated legs supporting pounding hearts,
To a beat, rolling with the flow,
Energy infusing the soul, encased in flesh, bone, and blood;
Marching onward, forward, processional strides
Declaring and making it known with battle cries,
This crowd roars…

Shouts of proclamation echo the strident resistance
With thunder, earth-quaking, walls crumbling, chains shattering
With thunder, dancing against the discordant system;
Proud warriors raising flags of protest
Amidst the roar, roister, and riots, rising reactionaries
Refusing submission, declining resignation,
This crowd roars…

Bounded together, by blood, by common cause,
Mingling masses of forgotten arise with a vocal
Outcry, intense, pulsing from the core (of us)
Like an infestation, infuriated, a torrent swarm (of us)
Flowing upwards, eroding all obstructions.
Declare, proclaim, announce, request, demand,
**This crowd roars…
ogdiddynash Jul 2019
twenteesventh.
you write of dismembered leaves,
enhaloed lust(***)
pains too sweet because they’re youthfully incomplete,
using incontrovertible idiocies like
dry rain droplets shining like sunlight,
edible goodbye cheerios,
edible didactics, teaching “frosted flakys”
poetic methadone methodology,
poems hats with rhyming lyrics  
that taste like that burnt eyelids colored
a blood stained mustard yellow, (yum),
beyond burger veggie based satyrs,
the happy gladness of sadness,
reversible rivers flowing heavenwards,
***** *******, you want an
infernal cataclysm...

really?

dechambered hearts, ventricular mysteries,
brains wearing wooly sport jacket helmets
and other Olsonian beauties,
like I write with succinct passion,
me, who gets eaten alive by buggers saying
“too long,” “too long,” “needed a mid-poem napt”

non-lexical non-commonsensical ecumenical hysterical
chemical verbal reactionaries
and then you wonder why

PEOPLE ******* HATE POETRY?

jes kiddin’ a leetle
if you don’t follow https://hellopoetry.com/s-olson/
you’re an idiot, one of the best on this site says O.N.
sourced from: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3224387/a-thousand-poems-stronger-130/
Aztec Warrior  Nov 2015
POEM 89
Aztec Warrior Nov 2015
Walking With Basho**

Note: These haiku (hokku) were written after
reading a book of Basho’s ‘travel logs’. It contained
many of his best and well known poems and prose.

#92
under the old oak
I watch squirrels
chasing their tails.
the oak ignores them.

#93
A breeze ruffles green leaves
as Wrens sing a symphony-
perfect harmony.

#94
I travel in the
company of red guard youth-
we want the whole world.(1)

#95
rushing rivers and
deep gorges block our advance-
great challenges ahead.

#96
Spring blossoms beckon
we smell their sweet aroma-
birds chirp approval.

#97
traveling this road
strewn with shadow and hard ship,
we dare scale great heights.
#98
rain and wind harass
the rabbits fur and spirit-
he sits stoically.

#99
scared of its shadow,
a frog leaps from its lily-
silence is broken.

#100
a burning man looks
at the desert’s dry land scape-
he paints large cacti. (2)

redzone/Aztec Warrior 8.20.12

(1) Red Guard were youth during the Cultural Revolution in China
under the leadership of Mao Tsetung and the genuine revolutionaries
in the Chinese Communist Party. They made revolution within the revolution
inspiring millions world-wide and preventing capitalist-roaders from
seizing power for 10 years. When Mao died, these reactionaries seized power and today we can see the ugly horrific exploitation and oppression the masses of Chinese face again today.

(2) Burning Man is an art festival in the desert of Nevada that began as an expression of creativity and defiance of the prevailing American culture.
But like everything in this society, it has been corrupted into a festival
where buying and selling once again contaminates. There are though still some aspects of the open art and creativity that remains.
Love this notebook....
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2016
and i'm the dumb one that said
you weren't dumb
and you were the intelligent
one that said hello,
may as well enjoy the rocky
mountains with mt. rushmore
shave; to keep it all under wraps
of a hollywood movie that
never made it from scripts.
yeah you asked to be treated as dumb,
and i asked to be treated as a wizard,
evidently both of us became middle class
debates on parenting:
white man's neck muscles became
black girl's hypnotic celluloid hip arsenal,
and i faked a combo of each in comparison:
while rolling a wine barrel
up a steep hill for a laughing horse
in exchange for three magic kidneys
that were categorised
as baked bean & ******, oh lawd the giant
came from the heights,
with the magic goose ******* out golden
swastikas rather than eggs of date printed 1933,
holocaust unknown khaki shirts prior the schwarzhemd
recycled for marble marrow statues,
like gold carat plating of statues with beneath
only cheap metal... but then the atomic authenticity
measuring cylinder in u-turn to provoke
such animate extension into theory of inanimate things
that animate things provoked inanimate things to ask
whether the one promise be worth blind acceptance
or eyed destruction via logic itemising in coupling
of two base words - after all neither psyche or logic are
acidic words... they're base words... but coupling two
base words leaves an aftermath of acidic reactionaries
more prone than the singleton word **** that's acidic.
Dustin Dean  Jul 2016
Orgasm
Dustin Dean Jul 2016
The auspices of a divided column seep
Into lengthy karmic powders so deep
Met again with the reactionaries of life
Bringing them home in their state of strife
How they danced and bled eternity
Vaguely colorful trails soon followed their glee
Which divided into that same column
Ceremoniously bringing all of the sum
To explode and transform
Reinventing the wonder of yesteryear
Seeping out of the creator's tear
In asylums
we know them's not mental
they're not playing the game
just working the system.

and the street is a shill
plodding uphill,

the homeless,
why should we house them?
and the needy
why bother to feed them?

Greed then?

Let's all be the pigswill
the shill
plod uphill,
take what is there
because
we do not care.

Talk about polarisation,
It's not the ice caps,
it's
not space exploration,
this is the
Great British nation, but
turned out in new clothes
as
a giant corporation.

There are reactors that breed
self sustaining,
that's greed and
reactionaries in
missions with missions
to feed those on
the edges
those with real need

systems were meant to be hacked
codes to be cracked
fracking's not allowed.

what happened?
to fair play
was that only played by
people yesterday?

what about the tomorrow that
never comes?

guess what?
it's here now.
Someone said this doesn't make sense, I agreed.
Julie Grenness Feb 2017
What is a reactionary?
They seem out of place to me,
Some people are reactionaries,
Their beliefs are futile isms, you see,
Out of place, out of time,
Anachronisms spring to mind.......
Feedback welcome.

— The End —