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K E Cummins Dec 2020
Some spark brighter as days turn darker,
Lovely torches lit against gloaming.
You glow warm as a hearth in the rain,
A kind candle-heart in the window shining.

In Kitgan Zibi the massive drums sing,
While we march to the Hill in mourning.
Rose-gold sunset lights on our skin –
Our kindled hope brought to burning.

Hold, comrade. We are not alone!
The crowd is alight and roaring.
We spark bright as the days grow dark;
This tired old world is changing.
its a cat and mouse game
with a variety of circus acts to entertain me:

1. giggly, touchy, curly haired cutie
2. nonchalant, arrogant, nose pierced *******
3. bat **** crazy, rebellious leftist
4. jealous, overprotective teenage boy who likes giving black eyes

i know you care deep down
for more than just your friends
the one act i'd like to be in
is the one where i hold your hand through the smoke
and the one where i bandage you up,
by the end of the night

-λεγε τι εγινε;
-can i help βασικα;

-i just kinda want a hug y'know

-i'd give you one
a textual representation of how my thoughts look
ConnectHook Feb 2018
HEY HEY !   ** ** !
Worn-out chants have GOT to GO !

more Greatness U.$.A.  !

** ** !   HEY HEY !
Donald Trump has GOT to STAY!
Seriously, Lefties;
you need some less monotonous and more inspiring chants.  Sigh . . .
ConnectHook Aug 2017
The new ruse: presidential psychosis
an impartial and swift diagnosis
as you trump-up the charge
but the sign is writ large:
twenty-twenty TRUMP/PENCE the prognosis.

Corrupt psychiatric inspection
serves to further a facile detection:
presidential unfitness.
(But God is our witness;
you're mad 'cause you lost the election.)

As you slander the president's sanity
you exhibit your own inhumanity.
I would urge all you losers
and lying accusers
to listen to Savage and Hannity.

In your desperate drive to impeach
you would grasp what is out of your reach.
The infernal machine
steered by crazy Maxine
makes a nasty mechanical screech.

The Democrat narrative flounders
while our nation's own hateful confounders
promote red revolution
mob-rule as solution
insulting the faith of the Founders.

Though the state-sponsored media lie,
our beleaguered republic must try
to transcend inhumanity;
quell the insanity.
(Both wings are needed to fly.)
Light-hearted limericks for happy campers in the United **** States of Amerikkka ☺
Kowalski Aug 2017
Charlottesville, 8/12/2017

In the early moments,
we didn’t know who it was
behind the wheel
or who it was
that was dead.

So, for a half-hour,
it was just a death.


And it didn’t matter whose
it was.

And then I watched the video.

And then it mattered.
Scarlet McCall Aug 2017
Marching to the Left,
Marching to the Right,
You’re not marching for a cause;
You’re marching just for spite.
Your ***** is too small,
Your bank account is shrinking.
Throwing cans and squirting Mace
Is easier than thinking.
It’s all the fault of [insert group]
That your plans don’t work out right.
Funny how so many men
think like this--black and white.
Free speech is for the speech you like;
Others must be quiet.
And if your permit’s not approved,
You’ll cry and start a riot.
I don’t see “disagreements;”
I see entitlement and rage,
Hatred and self-righteousness,
Please someone, turn the page.
Pearson Bolt Apr 2017
this is not a dialogue.
tug the cotton
out of your ears.
free speech
is the banner
fascists wave
to propagate
their hate, hissing
with forked tongues,
spitting vitriolic venom.

speak in a language
they cannot fail
to comprehend:
kick a racist
in the teeth.
**** ****.
no pasaran!
they shall not pass.
we won't go meekly
into that dark night.
National Poetry Month, Day 15.

Solidarity with antifascists everywhere. No pasaran.
Pearson Bolt Apr 2017
when you only
see the world
through the prism
of an Instagram filter,
the spectrum's
by black and white

you build that wall
around yourself,
closed off to the plight
of every one else.
who needs borders
when you refuse to see
beyond the periphery
of your iPhone's screen?
refugees? border patrol?
endless war?

merely fragmentary
in off-kilter
casting grim light
on contemporary
outcasts, rebels
built to outlast
the vitriol leveled
at modern-day martyrs
by tyrants and overlords.

'cause when you neglect
to read the passages
of history, you scapegoat
the brave, can't see
the forest for the trees,
reduce the complex
to Manichean binaries
of Good vs. Evil,
Left vs. Right,
an infinite etcetera
of demagoguery.

noses glued
to illuminated screens,
ignoring the visionaries
for illusionary fantasies:
happiness, bread
and circus.
has us chasing
a feeling fleeting
as a riptide when we
ought to be rallying
on the front lines,
punching Nazis.
a black bloc
tossing bricks into
storefront windows.
There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists.
~ Roberto Bolaño, "The Secret Detectives"
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.
Pearson Bolt Feb 2017
the donkeys bray
and panic
when bricks
fly through
bank windows.
the ***** ogle
the trashed Starbucks
and ask,
"but...who will serve us

the elephants intone,
"violence is never the answer"
and neglect to add
that's why they pilot
predator drones:
you won't see those stomped
in the elephants' stampede.
their ***** wars are covert.
peace cannot interrupt
the cash-flow.

as pigs fit armor over
bellies buttressed
by doughnuts,
they stare down
the wolf pack—a bloc
awash in black—
and slap their sticks
in primitive percussion
shouting, "do not resist,"
punctuating the order
with concussion grenades
and tear gas.

the wolves howl back, "no cops,
no KKK, no fascist USA!"
equal parts bark and bite
in the fight for humanity,
solidarity with the least of these,
laughing in the face of the State.
each time the wolves show their teeth,
the pigs shrink back
and quiver in fear,
while the wolves roar,
"refugees are welcome here!"
we will make racists
afraid again.
antifa, here to stay
so long as there remain
Nazis to punch in the face.
Last night, a decentralized coalition of antifascists, anti-capitalists, and anarchists shut down the speech of an alt-***** **** at UC Berkeley. Courageous students refused to sit by idle while hate speech was given a stage on their campus. I wrote this poem in solidarity with all those who took to the streets to resist fascism.

— The End —