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Yenson Mar 2019
With the magical banner held high
invoking the crocodile rain of oppression by elites
of greed by leeches and bacteria, amoebas and suckers
oh come all come one, join our revolution against dark powers

Oh.. who in rightful mind could refuse
off she went to hear hot propaganda of those high and mighty folks
who took food from baby's mouth  and live likes kings in our homes
fed in Le Cordon Bleu a'la Rouge with lashings of aspic fabrications

Without hesitation she swallowed all up,
I'm in and I am an Activist show me the culprit, what can I do
all for one, one for all, that parasite deserves miseries and doom
Easy comrade sister, get to know him and help us do his head in  

It's a sport for us that elitist blood sucker
just get under his skin for us, let's play his mind and infest his head
report back to us, inner knowledge is power and we're fighting a war
comrade sister, our hot Activist marched forth on with vim and vigor

comrade sister wholly followed her brief
though soon saw things weren't as the revolutionaries  presented
conflicted and confused she felt pity for a rare icon held in gallows
but the majority carries the vote and all is fair in love and red war

At her cost and with a wretched heart she gave her all
did as she was told and played her part as a true comrade in line
Solidarity she give to the fight, was mean and nasty as demanded
It's them or us they say and see comrades I give my services to you
all

No medals for Comrade sister, no epaulette yet earned
rather at her cost her privacy invaded and smears throws at her
tales of dark deeds and loose morals hung on her in dark corners
yet that poor heroine fought and gave so much blood for the cause

where is the honour amongst thieves and knaves
she did all that was required of her
told the lies she was made to tell and played the game as taught
stood at the barricades and ****** her guilt and conscience
yet they still don't trust her for paranoia rules them all
Sharon Talbot Mar 2019
Custom cannot wither, nor age enslave
My infinite array of memories.
I came of age upon a wave
Of ideals that anchored
Changes and elders outraged,
Appalling them into rage.
They often responded
With violence, yet we endured.
Even when comrades were shot down,
And protesters run to ground,
The promise of a new world grew in secret,
In the impromptu families in hill towns,
Or the remnants of Haight-Ashbury
And the minds of Lost Boys and Girls unbound,
In the survivors of Kent and Jackson State;
Our dream died not but elected to wait,
And In the choices of all
Not to succumb to servility
Nor women to proscribed maternity.
Equality stayed the rule instead of resignation.
Now, age has slowed but not stopped us
And we reach out across the air,
Teaching young ones, as passionate as we,
To distrust despots, ever serve the cause of liberty.
the disease of despair
gambling
suicide
hate
sadism

symptoms, not causes
of the brown blood
drained from swines'
pockets

gather up your coat
and your hat
for the primetime
event
inspired by Émile Durkheim

for peace in solidarity

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojleMU9rZ4k
Derrick Jones Nov 2018
Our Commander in Chief
A liar and thief
Less poise than Cheef Keef
Poisons the coral reefs
Turns over the same leaf
Covers it with new beef
A new outrageous tweet
Wash, rinse, repeat

With every action he divides our nation into factions
Giving a fraction of the truth, he replaces fact with distraction
Selling manufactured satisfaction
In fact we are living ration to ration
Press releases become trash compaction
Gluing facets to fit the latest fashion
While hiding his utter lack of compassion

Tragedy and calamity
Total lack of humanity
A far shot from sanity
Blinded by his vanity
Mesmerized by Sean Hannity
Our orange head of state
Ignores what’s at stake
As he takes and takes
Makes dire mistakes
Poisons rivers and lakes
I wake in shivers and shakes

Executive orders
Walled off borders
Photoshopped reporters
Narcissistic personality disorder
The bloated wealth hoarder
The great divider, the sorter

Total disregard for the truth
Fools gold or real gold
Both break your tooth
So believe what you are told
Believe the one who’s most bold
Watch the country be sold for profit
The fortune of a false prophet
For the pocketbook of a liar
The potato is on fire
It’s too late to drop it
The world will soon burn
If we don’t rise up to stop it
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
Zoe Walsh Sep 2018
i've always been angry
it has been a burning in my bones
an acid in my stomach
a restless warrior in my head.
some may say
i came into this world
looking for a fight.
but i'd argue that when i was born
the fight found me.
it was passed down
from generations of women
with hands branded into their bodies
and tongues cut out of their bloodied mouths.
i yearn for rest
but their stories push me back into the ring.
there is work to be done
fights to be won
ANH Sep 2018
Plummeting shots
cross the Earth
petrifying
all who stand naked
in its rein
as the sky continues to ricochet
and seep poison into their bones.
They writhe in scarring agony on
the cracked ground
being beaten down
endlessly.
You‒ just stand
and‒ stare
‒ willingly numb yourself and
throw their fervent cries across that suffocating sky.
Shut out all the systematic pain that
isn’t yours and
walk swiftly on.
as if nothing
is wrong.
Incredulously, you mockingly criticize
any imaginable effort of retaliation.
To think, you have what it takes
to vacillate
the lives you’ve never
fought for.
Act as if you’re
Midas-touched
standing high above
on some false sanguine cliff
overlooking that
warring, raging,
monster-mouthed sea
and expect it to cease
without a finger lifted.
The blazing storm
will only
continue on
while you strut your
privileged ignorance
on a flashing parade.
Life and death is
On the line
and now,
you’ve voluntarily gone
blind.
Only hope
they can
Die  
before you decide that
it’s a crime.
Yet you still ask
Why
when you don’t
live in their skins,
walk their miles
or bear their scars
‒you don’t even attempt
to try.
Try to see the reasons they continue to
Fight.
Fight for what precious life
they can call theirs.
Fight for morality,
Justice,
Passion.
Fight for the hope
a shining day will come that
all the years of
torture and shame
Will melt away to
a better reality.
...and you still
choose to ignore their
Humanity.
Harry Roberts Aug 2018
Molten Innards Out Flow & We Burn,
Destruction & Chaos Is Natures Return,
Gaia Turned Stern As We Humans Don't Learn,
Our Ashes Together Won't Fill Up An Urn.

Written In The Skies,
Shown Throughout The Seas,
People Like The Lies,
"'Cause We Won't Pay The Fees."

Climate Change Is A Fact,
But Business Has Tact,
More Money Than Brains &
In Smarts They Have Lacked.
All Good In Our Towers Till The Earths Crust Has Cracked.

Concerned For Our Health,
Our Prosperity Not Wealth,
People Rise Up We Must Do It Ourself,
If We All Stand Up Then We'll Topple The Shelf.

If We All Stay Seated,
We Deserve To Be Cheated,
Pardon Me If I'm Heated,
Climate Change Can We Beat It.
Harry Robert - Climate Change © 29/08/18
Autmn T Aug 2018
I am a feminist
Feeling fenced in
in a gender binary
fenced in a ****** binary
so people dismiss my Bi
No ally can stop that without listening
Listen with your ears and if you can't hear
listen with your eyes. Know that I don't need to prove my Bi
Yemen child brides, committing homicide
building graveyards inside of themselves
Acid attacks, police and blacks
**** is asked for
Jews are gassed more
Conversion therapy
People can't see through the Trans*parency
Gender roles wrapped up into us
Making us feel trapped making us adapt
A is not for Allys
A is for Ace or Aro
Thrown with a bow I miss the target
cast into the shadow
Lesbians are loved stripped down
but not in the gown
appreciated more with their mouths shut
and no ones mind open
They chose to be blind not see with their eyes
hear with your ears
hear the gunshot or the scream from the queer kid
who is bleeding, smiles were misleading
thought they were happy
Thats because we stigmatize mental illness
I feel the stillness of progress
My anxiety is as bad as the start
I've been told that l'm not being smart
but I know my voice is a work of art
We whitewash the shadow
using bleach to whiten skin
drinking bleach when that skin isn't light to begin
I am a feminist
My first spoken word I ever wrote for a school project
There is time
always
to take a walk, to see the beautiful things.
Store fronts in the spring time
wheelbarrows painted pink,
the soil left alone has grown little white flowers.
To be delicate is to be brave
in this world of boots on the ground
marching in the streets of the innocent.
There are so many blessed paths to take,
looping and dodging the chaos.
They are lined with roses and watering cans.
May you contribute to the beauty you find and seek.
Leave it for those who follow.
If so inclined, water the sweet smelling rose,
it will encourage others
to walk.
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