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A man, who never believed in Gods,
Refused to acknowledge the supremacy of the imperialist British Lords,
Challenged imperialist world empire with stubbornness,
Wished to build a peaceful superpower country, with farsightedness.

Through his reading, kept himself on evolution,
Sowed in the hearts of Indian youth, the seeds of revolution,
Raising and threatening administrative tones,
Stood fearful and could only break his bones.

From, soviet World misunderstood,
Revolution a product of blood & bullet,
He approached and transformed revolution,
A product of inspiring pen and booklet.

Never limited himself to fight for boundaries of administrative right,
Expanded himself in the jail to throw away human plight,
Fought a death-nearing battle to regain the human right,
To finally set all things for his jail mates completely right.

Pen is mightier than sword,
His life bore testimony to prove that record,
When others attempted for freedom movement to nurture,
He dreamt and worked for building his country a beautiful future.

Born an ordinary Sikh man,
Misinterpreted a lunatic gunman,

Lived a life of comrades,
Hated in every step, caste, religious and gender retrogrades,
Wanted to save his country from blood-******* renegades,
Decided to break all the youth-distorting barricades,
And put his life to a mortgaging death trade.

Lived a life of an unselfish tree,
Decided to give his life to witness the country free,
Evolved his life, a chapter of sacrifice,
Offered overprice to fight the imposed injustice & cowardice.


His physical life remained short-lived and temporary,
Lived for the country to set an example for ideal revolutionary,
Beaten by humanimal imperialists, black and blue,
Opened the youths towards fight for freedom, on a new avenue.

Imperialist empire remained pathetically cruel,
His thoughts & phenomenon inspired a never ending fuel,
For the youths, to sacrifice themselves for liberation of the soil,
Through revolutionary paths, filled with constant sufferings and toil.

The world personified, revolution is,
Red, blood, blood and blood,
He defied and responded, revolution is,
Think, evolve, unite, and change, by the act of read, read, read and read.

He proclaimed a desperate need,
To get ourselves away from disturbing ****,
Sowed the fire of revolutionary seed,
Thus stated to read, read and read.

Imperialist empires killed people like blood-******* vampires,
He fought and responded, with the shot of a demonstrative gunfire,
When ordinary humans aimed to save their family,
Every millisecond, lived a life, personifying whole country his family.

Like a wood that offers light, and burns itself in fire,
Gave freedom a ray of light, submitted himself happily into the death wire,
For revolution, turned the court his Centre of propaganda,
Responded the ruthless imperialist, a warning memoranda.

On the imperialist death rope, he was killed
The batons he passed for the youths of next generations,
His final dream for India, still unfulfilled,
On the presence of present blood-******* politicians,

A baby that never cries on starvation,
A child that never starves for education,
A youth who never roams around to get dignified occupation,
Let’s at least work and fight towards, fulfilling this mission.
This poem is about the Indian revolutionary named Bhagat Singh. He was a Sikh youth born in India. He is wrongly misinterpreted with bullets and blood. But his approach towards freedom, worthiness of human life and knowledge, shows him distinct from violent loving extremists. He was not a terrorist. He was the most non-violent person, who valued human life than everything. The bomb he threw never had any harmful chemicals, it was thrown on an empty place of assembly to get the world to hear him. He killed a police, who deliberately lathi-charged and killed people involved in a peaceful protest. He sacrificed his life for Indian freedom movement. He was the highly-read and the best intellectual reader during his life short-lived (1907-1931). At the age of 24, the then imperialist British executed him by hanging him to death. His vision and clarity for India and his predictions are happening today. His vision and thoughts still ignite youths of India when we think of him. In short, he is an icon of the Indian youth and revolutionary.
annh Apr 2022
Marge retrogrades lazily towards the hills;
Her name, printed the width of her cab-over dinette
In crinkled cobalt cursive,
Totters eccentrically as her handbrake fails.

SNAP-AP

Oblivious to errant camper vans (and centripetal forces in general),
Barney speeds maniacally along a deserted city street;
Golden coated and joyously poochie,
His tongue flabbers as fast as his bicycle courier dad can pedal.

SNAP-AP-AP

Mr Blue buys buckets at Bunnings
To match his cerulean suit and shinier-than-shiney satin shirt;
Periwinkle rhinestone shoes carry him unabashedly passed the second glances and sideways looks;
There goes the best dressed DIY-er in town…don’t ya know.

SNAP-AP-AP-AP
Oh, and that’s Antigua Street photography not Antigua street photography. :)

‘I only know how to approach a place by walking. For what does a street photographer do but walk and watch and wait and talk, and then watch and wait some more, trying to remain confident that the unexpected, the unknown, or the secret heart of the known awaits just around the corner?’
- Alex Webb
Billie Marie Jan 2022
Venus is retrograding back into darkness,
right along with Mercury.
All the good vibes and smart thought
gone out the back for a smoke
and some fresher air.
We tire of the same-old-same of life
and think up different scenarios
retrofitting our changing flight.
No tears come for left-behind dreams
not serving up the crème-de-la-crème
at the top of the crop. And really
for you and for I, all this backstepping
is only a piece of the step to this
hilarious dance that is life. We see
our intro through doors of inspecting
all we see; and we see our way to
adjusting a slightly altered version of
each varied moment in our reality.
Be kind in your retreat and respite
from the steady movement and marching feet
following the wheeled-in ruts
imprinting the road behind. Yeah sure,
they got us here, but that doesn’t
grant them right-away passage
further onward into that dreamland
we see but can never quite reach.
Venus turns direct on Jan 29 and Mercury follows a few days later on Feb 3. Hang in there!
power lives in the sticks of the youthful retrogrades
peddling away at toy cars and glass bombs
So much potential weakened by the seduction of mediocrity

called to the middle by pigs in suits of glamor
dancing to hollow songs in a crater of mistaken humanoids
all prying for the final meat Popsicle

and it  belongs to him with all his shady remarks
and sincere disregard for the gravitational potential energy of your existence

He WILL break you
morph your limbs into callous claws to weak to open the locks
which chain you to the village whipping pole

He along with his mutiness will laugh as he warps your brain
into a dough shaped plato carving barely resembling an *****
His thievery is not a simple repercussion of his damaged limping stare

it is clear he does not want to be fixed as suffering is his favorite playmate, he waits in the faces of all those that swing  alone

injecting shots of mind numbing cubicle anti-rage into his neck veins
this is his piece

as you dry heave the blood of your loyalty onto parchment for his inspection you must learn to swim
paddle that canoe out of the iridescent concrete showering of his affection
for this is not your jigsaw
Nicole  Feb 2021
Elios
Nicole Feb 2021
You, a celestial
that never retrogrades
Bold and fiery, never ceases
Carry on

Billion of stars
but nothing compares to—
you are remarkable
an epitome of vitality and strength

And you go back to chaos
for you were born from it
A resurrection of dust
Carry on.
Chris D Aechtner Nov 2021
Empire caused "Meek" and "Warden"
to become lost for the people divided.

The ancient etymological root intent and
definition of Meek: A person who is trained
and experienced in wielding the sword
who attempts to keep the sword sheathed for
as much as logically possible.

State and Church are cut from
the same cloth, designed to divide,
denature, and disarm on many levels.

State, Corporation, and Church (snot to be mistaken with sacred Vedas and source
codes. King David's and King Solomon's
writing is lush and powerful, and following
the lessons of Isa KRST can cause a more
peaceful, sustainable world),
close your inner eye.

Empire wants the peasants to believe
in "Meek" in a specific way for obvious reasons.
"Warden" is meant to be defined as not ever technically owning anything on Earth, including our children, and that it's our duty to natural Earth laws and Mother womb to stand against perpetrators who goose-step through the gardens and creeks.

"Warden" became inverted, turned on its
head to empty people's heads and pockets.

There are those who need to be dark for the
others. There are good dark fallen petals that
have their own light to survive the darkness.
The dark fallen petals lean towards the
divine feminine to bring balance and
harmony to the universal laws when toxic
male Jinn fire energy grows and spreads
into unbalance and unsustainability.

There are those of us who carry fangs
For Earth Womb, are willing supplicant cubs For Mother Huntress—sacred arrows
Notched in watery bow-spring.

Never Surrender to that which offers worse than death.

Surrender only to that which offers the water of life.

The Greatest Deception within the
Grand Illusion is to make people believe
that fire resembles false water:
Multifaceted, modified bait and switch.

The dark fallen petals fill their bowls
with water, then place the flame upon the water.

Filling your bowl first with fire, burns your mind and spirit into a husk. Attempting to extinguish a burning bowl with water, causes a polluted, murky brain and mind.

Always fill your pond with water,
let the water lilies and lotus grow
into wide open bloom. Always fill your chalice with water, then add the flame
upon the water. Mind as water, fluid,
able to flow alongside universal change
while adhering to universal constants.

State and Church are parasitic templates.
I'm snot suggesting that most people are bad and corrupted. You know the proverbial cliché: The road to hell is paved in good intentions. Prolonged saturation of negative entrenchment causes most every product to be negatively toxic regardless of initial intent going in.

Church and State are designed to close the inner eye and burn down the bowl permanently, leaving the hollow host with a jughead to fill with remote control leash and halter.

Church and State are designed to offer fire gift-wrapped in false water: The deceptive light that's obsessed with lighting candles in
an attempt to compensate for a burned down inner bowl that bathes the host in artificial light.

The nexus point between Church and State is the most insidious force that I've ever faced.

People who haven't already learned to do so, need to learn how to shield their minds from here on in. The next 15 years or so are gonna include some extraordinarily weird and intense moments and happenings across the world.

Learning to place the flame upon the water saved my body, mind, and spirit; It's the cleanest process and advice that I can offer.
It isn't an ultimate universal cure-all, as that is a wolf in sheep's clothing; It's a process that people can use to find their answers.

Empire always offers the ultimate answers, the psychopath that opportunistically builds traps as supposed solutions that lead to freedom and safety. Offered via State or Church, the answers are fire god traps disguised as water.

Nevermind conspiracy theory too, perceive it from various angles and scopes of objective perspective: please consider: trillions upon trillions of particles and particulates that range between organic and xenobiotic, natural and artificial, genetic and non-genetic: variables within trillions of natural and artificial rays, waves, pulses, beams, X, strings, that are emitted from trillions of organic and inorganic sources, such as uranium belts, stars, billions of wires, antennae, coils, tubes, on and on, BLASTED
into our bodies 24/7, awake, while asleep. While we dream.

Tinfoil (lol) can refract X negatively onto other reflective and refractive surfaces, cause amplification of ocular reception. Also, a wave/beam that might've passed through the skull and brain only once, can be bounced around the skull due to a tinfoil hat placed upon the crown.

Our bodies get hit within inevitability. The mix includes multifaceted physiological and psychological levels. And, images—trillions of images expressed in various states and forms.

Fire disguised as water causes hyper-inner conflict, shame, guilt, and fear that, when prolonged, eventually breaks the mind. A mind can break only however many times that it takes to bring specific minds to unfixable state.

Empire attempts to trick you into placing fire into your chalice first, it's that clean, base, simple, and primary.

Water religions/psychology/projections
produce more peaceful, accepting societies
that range in every possible mix of melanin and spice. Whenever a society retrogrades back to fire god worship and Sun sacrifice psychology and belief systems, the people and land become poisoned and dry, divided, cleaved under the weight of the cloven hoof

after having built another Tower of Babel.

Water cools the tempered sword
Glowing freshly from the forge.

Blossoming open in one way
Protects in many ways
That can't happen without acceptance.

When the dove sparks, stirs, drinks
From your chalice, and unfolds her wings into golden light inside your brain,
Empire's messaging no longer
Makes sense in a good way.
Ongoing rough blah blah blah, 11 15 2021
Jayce Aug 2018
It's easy to blame the way the planets are moving
When you've lost your faith in a god who only seems to neglect you
And so your fingers trace the outlines of constellations and track retrogrades
In order to understand why your life has never been in sync
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2022
hmm. bewildering little me...
little me bewildering me...
i walked into the supermarket...
pumped up from a bicycle ride...
no... i will not buy a Lucozade Sports
drink: high in...
whatever it takes to rehydrate...
salts, potassium... etc.
electrolytes...
  i need something to bite...
please: god no... no fruits... it's still borderline
winter...
i need some nourishment...
something primordial was woken in me
today...
            the usual bottle of pepsi max
and Whyte & Mackay whiskey... a litre
of which i'm about to finish...
i need something to bite into...
hmm...
          no... not a carrot...
i eat plenty of onions: that's almost similar...
ah!
    a swede! perfect!
and i stood in the car park...
contemplating if there might be some
Monet in the sky.... none...
hmm... all that's missing is...
some tatties and some haggis...
   raw swede... eating it... i felt...
primordial... eternal even...
             having a look around...
UBER drivers coming and going with...
orders of processed beef... burgers...
while i'm here... eating a raw root of swede...
mmm.. almost reminds me of eating
a radish... there's a spiciness associated with
it... ancient Europeans didn't have access to
the spice that's chilly... ergo?
horseradish... so i'm chewing at this root...
trying to look as if i'm thinking:
only with the tender night do i know...
the sad reality... i'm sort of heartbroken...
the girl's dog would lick my knuckle wounds...
but she rejected me...
now i know... in group girl *****-fights...
one single mother fighting another single mother...
what a sad affair...
       come to me when i'm 60 and no longer
"available"... by then i'll have all the assets...
oh **** me: by then... it's going to be a proper
Hopper circus...
      the one i had stomach cramps over...
was ushered out of my life by...
another woman... who else?
           girls competing... what an ugly affair...
mind you... when i die...
i'll miss my personal library...
             i don't need to upfront my language
like some Erasmus... all formal etc.,
the basic deeds...
               a return to something humane...
so i just stood there...
biting into this raw bulb of swede... trying to think...
no thought came... lightning could have arrived
sooner... well... much better...
enough juice in the root... to have to resort
to something labelled... bottled...
in plastic... i felt content... primitive...
even the cashier gave me the look of...
you're buying... a bottle of whiskey...
a bottle of pepsi... and... a head of a swede?!
confused... i too found myself slightly confused...
i hate fruit...
i ******* hate fruit...
oranges, apples... pears...
they're not for me... all the gifts of Hades...
the minerals... gold, iron... carrot...
swede... parsley...
           so i'm chewing... and chewing...
working out the details of my jaw-line...
oh... wow... an imagining of a ******* from
ex_machina...
          that's nice... but still no Monet...
               fair enough... the grey grit...
the ******* *******... random... the raw swede...
it was a most welcome moment...
i could hear the crunch through my earphones...
a few children scuttled past...
i just heard the inquiry: what's that crunch?
oh... the argument against this supposed
"patriarchy"? imagine... if...
a patriarchy wasn't in place...
   imagine... if: MOTHER nature had her sway...
i wouldn't be arguing with certain people...
they'd, be, DEAD...
i'd juggernaut them to the sweet, sweet sleep
of death... man tried to overcome nature...
sure... he failed with containing earthquakes...
tsunamis... etc.
            but... that's a matter for the Titans to discuss...
for the elemental pentagram...
but... what the feminists spew?
you, really think? the people talking....
would be alive... if i had my... NATURAL SWAY?!
i don't think so... look at my restraints...
look at them... they are invisible...
they are constrained by patriarchy...
man trying to overcome the cruelty of nature...
oddly enough... oops...
what arrived with Darwinism?
the insurrection of nature into the dynamic of
man's attempt to overcome nature...
someone more sober and more worried
than me has to take over... this narrative...
but if patriarchy wasn't in place...
i'd run a riot...
          these little people cushioned by a hierarchy
would stand no... defence for me to bypass!
it's a losers' game... after all...
if nature had its proper sway...
               all these... patriarchal defense mechanisms...
would be... wait... dissolved...
if the primordial man were to be unleashed...
you'd be basically unleashing the Mongol
from the 13th century...
      lucky me: for my chains...
               **** these women, these modern...
whatever(s)... leftovers...
              if the man in me was allowed to recirprocate
the man of old... but then again...
for that to happen... the modern woman would
have to be as good a **** as the the woman of old...
but i hardly think... that's about to happen...
lazy *****... i have to visit prostitutes
to get something worthwhile....
******* Aaron Copland Appalachian Spring Suite...
strange gifts?
       eh... or... by the looks of it...
by the smell of it... i'm boozing... drinking to excesses
yet to be matched...
ergo? i'm ******* out... a streak of *******
ammoniac lemonade!
                 good... between Aaron Copland's strange
gifts... Beethoven's ode to joy...
Rammstein's Zeit... and Thomas Newman's
any other beauty... and... eating a head of a swede raw...
you're joking... it will have to take me eating an
onion, to prove a point?
how about we bypass the onion...
let's  start off with teeth of garlic... how about that?
what a strange way to live:
with a longing... life so incomplete...
                 it's a life that doesn't even allow sadness...
to make it into a culprit...
something equivalent to a blink...
             tonight's tonight...
                     black is black...
                                     if "these" people lived uinder
the dictum of nature... they'd ne dead....
sane... counter nature counter god man... tried...
these people... if they were exposed
to the totality of nature...
        *****, please...
                           you're ******* dead!
patriarchy is the only thing keeping you alive...
if... go... defend... the necrophilic retrogrades
of Egypt... it's Africa, after all...
if nature... had its proper sway...
mouth-offs of the current climate of "conversation"
would be... dead,,,
by the structure of the Wehrmacht...
               dead...           dead...              dead:
sie sind nichts!
                                         sie sind alle!
jetzt... fühlen was ich fühlen!
    das ist die nur-Wwhrheit!             ah...
Deutsche bla bla...
                        erste... zuletzt...
                             ich denken deshalb...
deshalb.. oh sweet melancholy.

— The End —