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Hope Apr 1
I write because
I have to.
There is no rhythm or reason.
My poetry isn't for you
half the time
it isn't even for me.
It just is.

Once in a while
the hands from the "chosen" gods of
allpoetry.com
will deem me worthy
to grace the stage
of "front page"
Where all the big wigs of the site
get flowers
their proverbial ***** stroked
and told how pretty they are.

Poems like mine don't get chosen much.
I have to be
literally *******
the picker
to get one of my
mediocre writes
displaced for
a few hundred
or thousand views
some likes and of course
DMs from boys.

There are times such as today
where my writes get taken off of "pending picks"
The God of this land finds my words to be too offensive.
Asking what do certain metaphors mean
and my formating is wrong.
I make my own words "weak"
That the word *******, is
too strong.
To that
I light my nightly cigar
and the urge to burn
my page down
is fighting
with the cats and possums
clawing into each other's back
between the shed and old fence.

To hell with
modest clothes
that cover full breast.
**** the short skirts I wear
and the boots that I could very easily kick your teeth in with.

If you want poetry
about babbling brooks,
tall red wood trees
and metaphors you can
sing to your
small child at night
while her father
slams down
another empty can of beer
hoping to not wake
up in a bed of his own ****
in the morning.
That won't be misplaced here.


Dear reader
my poetry
isn't for you.
Neither is it
front page
"worthy"
I write about
depression
***
cheating
loneliness
being ******* over.
About being
Bi polar
and all the
******* pills I
have to take
to let me sit
near the "normal crowd"
and if that's not what you want to read.
then go **** yourself
*******.
I have an account on another poetry site. That is what I'm referring to here. I'm slowly bringing my writing here to see how it goes.
I want to write
a poem
so here I am
doing it
even though
I have nothing
to write about
My head's
a bit fuzzy
I woke up
around 4 pm.

My girl wants to
read me a poem
she thinks I'll
like it.
"Not now, I'm writing."
"Ok."
and as the world
burns to ashes
outside
losing weight
becomes
just as realistic
as going outside
and running
without someone
chasing me with a knife.

I tap my belly
twice.
I've decided—
I'll keep Steven.
He's a good boy
who has tantrums
but a couple
farts here and there
usually settle him.

My joints and my ***
hurt when I get up
I'm getting too heavy
for my knees
and the chairs
aren't comfortable
enough.

This poem has
an thing to it
I don't know what
it feels good
and right
it feels like Steven.

I can hear
my father arguing
with my little sister
over homework
and that doesn't.

There is
a pressure plate
pressing on my head
and I can hear
my skull crack
the more they argue
but it never
pops it
it just presses
and presses
never landing
the killing blow.

the homework
questions begin
"Is freedom
good or bad?"
"Good."
"is censorship's
something
present in
dictatorship
or democracy?"
"I don't know
what censorship is."
I get up
from my bed
my joints
don't hurt
I grab the door ****
and shut my
bedroom door.

There's your answer.
Malcolm Mar 12
https://youtu.be/7Nr5B_xcbMg

We need no intro

These ******* wanna act like they don’t see the game,
Blind to the system,
they livin’ inside of a chains,
They got you distracted with the money,
cars and the fame,
who ya blame ?
But I see the ones pullin’ strings in the back of the frame,
calling your name,
ain't that a shame.
They poison the food an water,
they be lacin’ the sky with the fumes,
Twistin’ the news so the truth is erased from the room, Kaboom
Tellin’ you lies while they tighten the noose on your neck,
ah ha the terrorist in your head ?
******* control you through fear and a check, check check one two then what you gonna do, while government putting the screws in you
History’s twisted, they shift it,
they bury the fact,
never lacking attacking ******* keep macking,
They censor the rebels with the decimal with the decibels and never let real ones react in fact,
They keep us divided, ignitin’ the fire of hate,
trying to make you brake,
sneering, what's fake
******* be smilin’ while sealin’ our fate, no debate
They taxin’ your breath,
got you workin’ from cradle to grave,
Promise you freedom but keep you a government slave.
They poison your mind,
while they shackle your body in chains,
******* in power just laughin’,
they playin’ these games.
They burn all the books, they been twistin’ the history page,
Drownin’ the facts in a system that’s built like a cage.
They tell you to trust in the rules that they break,
But ******* got secrets they never explain.
They start up the wars, then they send you to die in their name,
While they countin’ their money and watchin’ you drown in the flames.
Every election’s a trick,
it’s a show,
it’s a play,
Same ******* be smilin’ while diggin’ your graves
They keep you distracted with *******, with dollars and pills,
Hopin’ you never wake up, to the system they built.
They censor the voices who tell you the truth,
******* be scared when we step in the booth.
They own all the money, the banks, and the land,
They killin’ the culture and takin’ the brand.
They tell you it’s safe, but they lyin’ instead,
Feedin’ you cancer, then taxin’ the dead.
They floodin’ the hood with the dope and the guns,
Then fillin’ the prisons with daughters and sons.
They teachin’ you not to be strong or be bold,
They want you obedient, easy to mold.
These ******* be watchin’ your every **** move,
Tappin’ your phone,
got a bug in the room.
The drones, politicians,
they using’ machines,
They pushin’ the scripts and they sellin’ you dreams.
They trackin’ your steps through the chip in your hand,
Controllin’ the world with a digital scan.
They keepin’ you poor while they printin’ the cash,
Takin’ your house and they kickin’ your ***.
They tell you to follow,
to listen,
obey,
But real ******* ain’t livin’ that way.
We see through the smoke,
we can tell it’s a lie,

We ready for war—ain’t no fear in our eyes.
Copyright ©️ January 2025
Malcolm Gladwin
Song: Truth
Lyrics: Malcolm Gladwin
January 2025
Traveler Aug 2024
The algorithms didn’t like what I had to convey.
So I attempted to say it in a different place ..
Instagram, Twitter it’s all been done…
Activism gets eaten in the algorithms!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Lawrence Hall Jun 2024
Lawrence Hall HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                       Book Removal Training

                   The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and
                   print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn
                   from their sentences.

                                       -The Book Thief, p. 112

And now burning words must be torn from free people
For if people read they might think about things:
Why does the Party’s Jesus hate everyone
And why are weapons superior to ideas?

Can a hangperson’s noose teach us to love
Burning crosses comfort a frightened child
Why do the cult’s censors fly our flag upside down
While stealing books from our children’s hands?

A state that trains people to purge library books
Is a slave state



Florida revises school library book removal training after public outcry
Story by Douglas Soule, USA TODAY NETWORK

Florida revises school library book removal training after public outcry (msn.com)
Zywa Mar 2024
Stamps on the pages

of the letter to my dad:


Not To Be Censored.
Novel "Fury" (2001, Salman Rushdie), chapter 9

Collection "Low gear"
Strangerous Apr 2023
Relationships of divers nations
          crystallize in Terrible Times:
alliances divide along
          Terror/Anti-Terror lines.

The paradigm is surgical:
          eradicate the cancerous cells.
So privy nations operate
          on Terror's malignant network of Hells.

The human species balances
          upon the precipice of Fate:
voices clamor on Freedom's side;
          dogma grips the side of Hate.

And one God watches, knowing They
          have and will defeat the Beast.
But who's the Beast? "It's them!" points each.
          May the best team win, the other cease.
© 2001 by Jack Morris
Zywa Jan 2024
No one's listening,

so there is no censorship --


of the protesters.
Column "Je stem zal je niet beschermen" ("Your voice won't protect you", 2024, Ellen Deckwitz)

Collection "Actively Passive"
A problem with fiat centralized money
   Is that monetary accounts can be frozen
      Censoring people or nations who refuse
         To follow the narrative of those in control
            Monetary officials who decide who can use
               Money and who is not allowed to use money
                  Because of their beliefs or ideas or support
                     Therefore
                  Because people hold varying beliefs in life
               Let’s use a money that can’t be frozen at all
            Because this money remains private property
         Money that can be held and used by those
      On opposite sides of any issue or decision
   A bearer asset that is censorship resistant
This money exists - the solution is Bitcoin
This is Bitcoin Poem 038 and Problems and Solutions 3.  See more at BitcoinPoems.pro
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