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Pearson Bolt May 2017
even if you had a single thought
beneath that golden toupée,
i wouldn't pay a penny
to hear you stumble
through a sentence.

you're grasping at straws
as you spew your vitriol,
peddling snake-oil—
a reality TV show host
floundering amidst the shipwreck
of a failed state.

impotent
bottom-feeder,
you have no power.
you're digging a deeper grave
with every single syllable.

another salacious scandal
to bury you alive.
fascist, your days
are numbered.
no pasaran.

we will rise like lions
after slumber,
unvanquishable.
you're bound to lose.
cower, racist coward.
if only your ignorance
would die with you.
your days are numbered.
**** Donald Trump.
David Flemister Mar 2017
this world is doomed and we're all going with it.
you're on a giant rock hurtling through space.
you live in constant fear of death, yet that's the only thing you can be sure about.
you have a job you don't want so you can buy things you don't need,
to impress and satisfy people you don't like.
this world is doomed and we're all going with it.
why? no reason. its a joke. and your death is the punchline.
you've been put here to fail.
the meaning of life is its fragility.
that it can all be ripped away so fast.
its funny, isn't it?

hahaha

so what? now you've got nothing to live for?
wrong.
now you're free.
no fear of failure.
no fear of death.
no fear.
free.
the world is your chaotic, lawless playground.
no rules.
no leaders.
no consequences.
you're afraid of living because you're afraid of dying.
you fear the inevitable.
stop being a ******* coward, stop being afraid.
there are no concequences.
this world is doomed and we're all going with it.
Pearson Bolt Feb 2017
Seraphine wields her dagger like a torch
to illuminate her path—a figure at once
youthful and monolithic. Mother Earth
caresses her as flowers bloom amidst
the bloodbath. the old skulls of dead
fascists rest in silver platters. three arrows
plunged into the hearts of charlatans,
an Iron Front, disrupting decorum.
the celosia petals burn like a bonfire
around Seraphine as her nāgī coils
like an ouroboros, slyly smirking.
Seraphine works the blade back and forth,
sawing through the ****'s neck, smiling
while decapitating the demagogue.
This poem was inspired by the cover art and content of "Against the Fascist Creep." I intentionally chose a Hebrew name for the poem's protagonist.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/287421267/against-the-fascist-creep-poster?ref=pr_shop#
Kagey Sage Feb 2017
Is it the human condition to be swayed by morons
whose only talent is to talk big and vague?
They get paid in bribes
cannot turn on empathy
toward those harmed
"What's best for me is best"
narrow-mindedness
Cannot see past
Cannot see:
"What harms another, harms me"
always
Polluted the air
to make some dough, now
you're breathing the cancerous soot
Lower the workers' pay
live in a world of hungry thieves
Vierra Feb 2017
There is a chaos theory that is dominate in my mind,
one of proper thought that has gone array,
visions of violations to our fellow man,
and whispers amongst the thieves.

If there is no honor,
then the point will be to survive in anarchy,
groveling and scrounging in the night,
to feed the pains in our bellies,

In my eyes, I will **** to feed,
but there is others who will not allow it,
and the storyline will be "I will need to be fulfilled before you'
maybe I will commit another act of treason.

After the rapture, those who live will be wasted,
like it was since ever since,
there will be title fights for structure and hierarchy
but it will still be life after Armageddon.

What will hope do to mankind?

its remains to be seen.
thoughts of anarchy and rapture.
Just Melz Feb 2017
Catastrophic calamity
Souls made of blasphemy
On the down low
The World as a whole
Had turned to anarchy
And it's a shame there's no name
For all this antirelgious hate
Spreading across the world
Like a facebook game
Everyone looking for a high score
All in the name of fame
Pearson Bolt Feb 2017
who holds the leash
of the pigs in the streets?  
follow the paper trail:
dead presidents
never fail to be the culprit.

it's not who
but what.
the police always
serve and protect
capital and property.
why else would they block
off a jewel store
during a peaceful rally?

they may not be
our enemy,
but they
certainly
aren't our friends.

they are the strong-arm
of the State,
fodder on a frontline
devised by fascist elite.
the boys in blue
with low IQs
are oligarchs' favorite tools
for bludgeoning
dissent and pummeling
free expression.
useful idiots—
truncheons designed
with punishing dissidents
in mind.

we may well be
the 99%, but they have badges,
guns, and a license to ****
emblazoned on the blue shield
slapped on their chests,
stoking overzealous
racists to respond violently,
a cacophony of bloodshed
seems to be the only language
they know how to speak.

smash the fraternity
that acquiesces to criminality.
white men in pressed suits—
who's speculative spending
lead to economic catastrophe—
get off scott-free
while black men are imprisoned
for possessing an ounce of ****.
not even the blind would fail to see
the "just us" system excludes
the majority of humanity.

all lives matter?
only ignorance could present
such a fictitious narrative,
a self-congratulatory hyperbole
disregarding contemporary reality.
private prisons designed for profit,
institutionalized bigotry instigating
a new form of slavery.
when mass incarceration
lacerates our communities
and exacerbates the conditions
of the working class,
the only dignified response
is to stand up, fight back.

we no longer
have a need
for this blatant idiocracy.
if we truly want to call this country
"the land of the free,"
then we must say,
loudly and clearly:
abolish the police.
https://www.thenation.com/article/abolish-police-instead-lets-have-full-social-economic-and-political-equality/
Pearson Bolt Feb 2017
left to right,
all looks the same to me.
as far as the eye can see,
a cadre of thieves
waiting for their chance.
when our vigilance slips
they'll kick the chair beneath our feet
and leave us hanging
from the bows of a willow tree.

if ever there was a time
to smash windows, burn limos,
and punch Nazis, the moment is here.
you fancy yourself progressive
yet here you sit on your hands, regressing,
playing the hand you've been dealt.
did you forget the deck is stacked?
the House always wins.

it's time to flip the table over.

toss their rule-book in the gutter.
a clenched fist is not just an image
you stick on a protest sign
to appear edgy. the movement
for gender equality is not an opportunity
for you to get laid. fighting the State
is not a weekend getaway.
carve the reality into your thick skull:
people are dying.

don't you see? they want us divided.
we're easier prey that way.
if they demonize the anarchists
and socialists then they can make
the liberals feel safe. "don't be violent,"
they say. "comply. obey. and we'll mete out
just enough concessions to keep
your guilty conscience assuaged."

if we fail to hold their feet to the fire
they'll throw us in the ovens.
the fascists will drag us out
behind the chemical sheds,
pull a burlap sack over our heads,
and won't stop the firing squad
'till we're long dead.

will you sit idle and watch
them drag us away? or will you
get aggressive, stand up to the State
and say, "not today."
don't be a passive participant
in your own arrest. the human mind
is omnipotent, an emancipatory instrument.
we have to begin
imagining a world without gods and masters,
envisioning what it means to be truly free.
resist the corpulence of false democracy
and make the prefigurative dream
our new reality.
A plea for unity. A call to arms.
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