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Äŧül Sep 2018
I shall be the August Landmesser.

Low I shall keep my arm en masse,
Of course I shall not hail the Führer,
Viewing my parents as the dictators,
Expect me they do to forget love of yours.

Yet I shall not comply with their orders,
Of course I shall always love only you,
Until I am successful, rest I shall not.
My HP Poem #1716
©Atul Kaushal
veritas Jul 2018
push and pull like a tug of war dance
on dissident minds speak
in twisted tongues refuse
the cards you are dealt this is not wonderland.
you left your home to wake up to black horsemen and
sleep to a warm darkness
it's a house of cards
you live in
by tattered shreds hangs your reality torn up bits
flying because this is not paradise.
this is a door blown open this is a scream ringing
clear as night
it’s the midwife of death
bearing a basket of wilting roses and a glass of
vice it’s
deteriorating in the touch of dissipation
melting away like the fabric of a net of
lies lies snakes slithering from mouths it's an evil
nobody could have seen
birthed from the depths of your heart but
it's the truth.
hidden underneath your skin oh dear
wake! for the ground misses your kisses
and the public seems to just adore you so
arise! for your redemption rests in the hands of a
forsaken god, and he has left judgement
in the eyes of a juryless court;
for you are the king
and you must do what a king does—
the fascist anathema.
Francie Lynch Dec 2015
Donald has a comb-over.
******, a funny moustache.
Hair Donald?
Heil ******!
I despise mentioning ******'s name in a poem.
I despise mentioning Donald's name in a poem.
Peter Balkus Apr 2018
He believes in equality.
He kills his people
SangAndTranen Mar 2018
Evacuate the cockpit,
Give me the joystick,
I am the one in control.

Enough of your decisions,
Enjoy my dominion,
This is what you deserve.

You don’t need to speak,
Go join with the weak,
I am not listening.

Don’t give me your emotion,
My plan is in motion,
There is nothing you can do.

How does it feel?
Your fate is sealed.
Helpless just like me.

See, I am weakest upon this ship,
My esteem drains drip by drip.
But you don’t know that.
Because I am in control.

Divide and conquer,
Narcissistic, off my rocker,
I am your ruler now.

Don’t look me in the eye,
Shut up and stand in line,
I. Am in. Control.
Dunno what this is about. What do you reckon? Could be literal, could be a metaphor...
nick armbrister Feb 2018
“Hello, my name is Rodriguez the tinpot dictator of South American country A. I came to power and made everyone a communist whether they liked it or not.
Those who disagreed disappeared. You see, I ain’t a bad man but as I’m in power I have to be firm and they’re no more.
Some call me Steel ***** as I go up against my country’s insurgents, in the pay of the Yanks, and tie down their capitalist forces in a futile war they can never win and I send the traitors’ families the bill for the bullets – pay up or die!
Everything went well till the Americans sent the Marines in and we beat them at first but now we are losing, so I’ll soon be out of a home and a job. I’ll find another country and take my cause to them, overthrow their government and be a dictator again.
Ill teach the Zionists a lesson and show them how a communist can fight.”
Death’s Dictator Rendered

   Countries and leaders

    They coexist in a paradox of “one needs another.”

     Power is alike a potent drink

     To power’s heads, such intoxicates and corrupts a brother.

    Shielding one self through words that justify a blood bath

     Words handed over

     to the trusting populations……

     in order to capture a ticket to power’s seat

     with such, promises and trustful actions never do they meet….

    A push of a button….

     A jab with a verbal knife…..

     Strikes another nation.

     Through corruptions and anger

     derived from ill faded and egocentric power bursts…

      Destruction rains over

     those that they consider a “rival”.

       Walls cutting off roads  

      to the needless spread of targeting those  “others”

      defined as  the obstruction to  their greedy targets of expression

      of joyful power intoxication through war and money absorbing actions.

      in which a job…

       people are recruited from the populous.

      Whom  the dictator  loves to employ…

       Soldiers in their “war to their just cause”

       the population is brainwashed to oblivion.

      Without a true view of who and what they are fighting for….

      until the world is shaken and almost rendered “extinct.”

      Through these pig headed wars….

      A show of strength…..

       to hide their weaknesses…

      the purge of adversaries…..    

      ensures their hold to their sword of power.

      As memories of those fallen

      on their forgotten grave sites….


      who remembers a forgotten and misunderstood heart….

       on their tombstone…

they place upon it a beautiful flower.
ICN Jul 2017
What happened?
Oh wait I remember
A president was elected
But we didn't get him
Instead we a got a dictatorial regime.

Freedom of speech was the first right to go
Slowly but surely
Prisoners of war
Accumulated in the prisons.

College kids and Activists
Beaten, *****, shot, ridiculed.
They might as well have been tarred and feathered

How sick do you have to be to shoot at a girl
With her eyes closed
Crying for her country?

How sick do you have to be to paralyze a 15 year old boy
With the rest of us
For his future?

And don't get me started on the grandpa
Who was marching
with his grandchildren

Or the violinist
Dedicating a tune to his country

All trying
To escape from this country
Plagued by insecurity, inflation, and corruption.

The only thing we have left
Is a small scrap of hope.
i don't usually write about Venezuela, because it is a very touchy subject for me but i couldn't help it after yesterday
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