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Harry Roberts Nov 2017
Parasites and their schemes,
Gaia shaking with innocents screams.

How they set up society,
So they could get more
While you become emaciated.

Because if your Black or of ethinic
Backgrounds,
If your disabled
And let's not forget
Poor...

You'll reap more poverty at
The hands of these parasites.
These politicians &
This monarchy.

But you're to short sighted to See.
Weight of reality presses like
The pressure of the sea.

These people born to poverty,
Did not decide it,
Just in the same way
You didn't pick a womb to reside in.

Yet you have the media
Inciting Anger and misplaced Rage.

Against those that can't afford a pen,
Let alone a page.

Because if your Black or of Ethnic descent, disabled and poor,
You're the parasites these
Fat Cats scheme about.
Class Genocide, there'll only
Be more.
There will only be more
Adele Nov 2017
I can hear them. There is not one, but might be hundreds of them lurking behind these rickety wood walls.

He is watching. The party has always been watching. I can control my thoughts. Cogito ergo sum. This is my world, no one can touch me. These are my thoughts, my heart beats for what is good for me. My hands scrawling, my brain is just scribbling.

Yet, I’ve known from the start that I am a dead man.

I didn’t commit adultery, I followed them. I am alive, I can feel my heart racing. My blood all over my body... reminds me why I’m here. To survive and live, yet I am still a dead man.

I am no mute, but I can’t speak. While writing this I can picture my hands and feet with shackles, wounds of torture. I’ve been always a dead man.

The prole doesn’t know. They need to know. They should stop listening or watching the telescreen. They should strive to dig the Oldspeak.

Oh, right. Who dares to doublethink against a totalitarian regime anyway?

The guns are always on their hands. The war is always going. It’s always here. The past... is always here. We don’t see it, but it’s here! There’s nowhere to run or hide, the world tried.

I will be the next unperson, vaporising in the history of Oceania. They won’t remember. They’ll try not to remember. We are a nobody. Winston was right. I can feel the boot stamping on my face. This is the future.

My voice... is a thought crime, will never be accepted in this society.

I am a dead man.

I am ready... the Thought Police has been always watching me. The INGSOC. Big Brother. I will never love him!

But I am ready to be trap in the place where there is no darkness. I am ready... for the Ministry of Love.

I won’t ever, ever love Big Brother!

I do not care, for I am already a dead man!
GLOSSARY OF TERMS

• Big Brother- the face of the Party, the leader behind the great power. The best part is that we never come to confirm his actual existence. He might not even be real. Maybe the Party just hired an intimidating-looking male model to make those posters. The face of the Party, Big Brother acts as reassurance and a trustworthy entity for many (his name is warm and fuzzywarm and fuzzy and easy to embrace). Yet, he is also your biggest enemy and threat – if you are one of the criminals (he is watching your every move).

• Cogito ergo sum- Renee Descartes, the famous philosopher, used that to prove his own existence. It literally means, "I think; therefore, I am." He claimed that his ability to form thoughts made him a real, living, human being.


• Doublethink- the acceptance of two contradictory ideas or beliefs at the same time.

• INGSOC- "Ingsoc" means "English Socialism." The "Ing-" is based on the pronunciation of "English" and "-soc" on "socialism."


• Oceania - The super state in which protagonist Winston Smith dwells. It is believed to be composed of the Americas, the British Isles (called "Airstrip One" in the novel), Iceland, Australia, New Zealand, Polynesia, and Southern Africa below the River Congo.

• Ministry of Love- The Ministry of Love (or Miniluv in Newspeak) serves as Oceania's interior ministry. It enforces loyalty to Big Brother through fear, buttressed through a massive apparatus of security and repression, as well as systematic brainwashing


• Oldspeak- normal English usage as opposed to technical or propagandist language


• Prole- a shortening of the word proletarian, a term for the working class.

• Telescreen- a wall-mounted electronic device that doubles as a television and a surveillance camera. Used by the Thought Police to monitor the citizens.


• Thoughtcrime- even more serious offense than committing an actual crime: It's the act of thinking about committing a crime. You have thoughts that conflict with the Party line, like thinking "Big Brother is ungood.”

• Thought Police- a group of people with totalitarian views on a given subject, who constantly monitor others for any deviation from prescribed thinking

• Unperson- someone who has been vaporized. Vaporization is when a person is secretly murdered and erased from society, the present, the universe, and existence. Such a person would be taken out of books, photographs, and articles so that no trace of them is found in the present anywhere – no record of them would be found.


• Winston Smith- a fictional character and the protagonist of George Orwell's 1949 novel Nineteen Eighty-Four.

-INSPIRED BY GEORGE ORWELL’s 1984-

(a life-changing recommended read)
Ashley Moor Nov 2017
It’s 1:02 p.m.
on a Wednesday
I am waiting to take a test
1:03 p.m.
and I am willing
to test my willingness
to stay here
in a town that moves
on the back
of a razorblade.
They never say
what we are waiting for
here
in the quiet
resistance
like the eye of the storm
on the softest sheets.
I have become an antique,
a collectible,
a hollow instrument
used for my city’s defense.
I have begun
to move backwards,
erasing time
in a land where
clocks don’t tick
and lights don’t blink.
Love
here
always moves like the weather –
moving
churning
spilling
breathing
forcing
uncompromising
is the love of Mother Nature.
If I had met you
before the government won
or after my mind
became a gun
I would love you
I would love you
I would love you
better.
Missing you.
Ace Sargent Oct 2017
In the case of the 8-year-old little boy
The child who said he wanted to see
I am sorry I could not stop you, angel
From becoming part of this machine
To pull you from those cogs and screws
And cover your innocent ears
From the churning and turning of politics
Of old white men’s right-wing fears
In the case of the 8-year-old little boy
I know you want to fix the worlds scrapes
But the earth is not like your boo boo
And mommy’s desk doesn’t have enough tape
I am sorry I could not stop them, baby
From taking away your dreams
They would not listen to my screaming
They couldn’t hear mommy over the machine
In the case of the 8-year-old little boy
Don’t let that light die in your eyes    
I know the world can be a bully
But there was a time so was your mind  
I am sorry I could not stop them, sweetie
From saying all those bad things
An 8-year-old shouldn’t be hearing how
The government tears off angel wings.
for the raising of little ones
Steve Page Oct 2017
(With a nod to Michael Rosen's poem, Chocolate Cake)

I love money.
I loved it as a boy
and now I love it even more.

Sometimes we used to have it
all spread out on the table
and I would sort it
and stack it.
And dad would say,
"keep the coppers away from the silver"
and laugh at his private joke.

We'd count it all,
bag it
and weigh it.
And then dad would give me a little for myself:
2 shillings, 8 thrupenny bits.

I'd stack them,
and count them again.
I'd put 3 aside for my tin
and count out 5 for school.

I'd take one thrupenny bit to school each day
and at morning break I'd take my thrupenny bit
and wait in the queue at the tuck shop.

But some days,
when standing in the queue
with my thrupenny bit in my hand,
I'd think again and wrap it up in my handkerchief
and I'd push it to the bottom of my grey trouser pocket
for my secret box in my wardrobe.
-
-
Anyway,
once, when dad was sick
he asked me to do the count
- alone.

To spread it on the table,
sort it,
stack it,
keep the coppers away from the silver,
count it
and weigh it.
And then take my share,
2 shillings,  8 thrupenny bits.

I sat in the kitchen
in the silence,
looking down at the spread before me,
full of fear and pride.

I sorted
and I sorted again.

I stacked
and rearrange the stacks.

I saw with a smile
that I had kept the coppers away from the silver.

I counted
and counted again
And for the sheer pleasure of it,
I counted again.

Satisfied,
I took my share
3 shillings, 12 thrupenny bits.

4 bits for my secret box,
3 bits for my tin
and 5 put aside for the week's tuck money.

I love money.
I loved it as a boy
and now sitting in my kitchen
with my red box here in SW1,
full of fear and pride,
I love it even more.
I needed to write a poem about an object or collection for a local event.  I chose money as the ultimate object of our love.
Svode Oct 2017
Oldspeak:
Save me from this government,
which envelops the land.
Which doesn't give me freedom,
or help my weary hand.

Newspeak:
I'm saved in Oceania,
which is doublegood; much nonwasted land.
BB unstruggles workers,
BB helps unwear hands.
A group of friends and I wanted to know how a short poem might be impacted by being translated into Newspeak from 1984. This was mostly for fun
quintin sinclair Oct 2017
quicK
                                       before you click too mucH
                for they can disturb with slightest toucH
                 for they can see everything you thinK
                 and they control anything you drinK
                     they need you to “try your besT”
              so they can make you pass the tesT
               the test that leads you to your lifE
               the test behind you with a knifE
                       so you can finally be freE
                   listen to these simple threE
ruleS
                                       number onE
                                       stay in linE
             listen to their selfish crimE
            listen to the way they saY
                   it’ll be a happy daY

                                         number twO
                                  don’t complaiN
        or it just might cause you paiN
             or it just might be the daY
        you would never see agaiN

                                      number threE
                                     pass the tesT
        so you can finally be the besT
       based upon the way that yoU
                          pay attention tO
these lieS
Seema Sep 2017
Rivers flow
Humans grow
Stars glow
Humans blow

Toxic waste
Air pollution
Humans haste
Perfect solution

Beggars hungry
Homeless ****
Humans angry
Robbing wills

Bullets fired
Tanks raged
Juveniles hired
Humans tagged

Terrorists warns
Lives lost
Families torn
Priceless cost

Lust gains
Humans pained
No brains
Love insaned

Lots learnt
Media zooms
Orders sent
Countries doomed

Hunger peaks
Children sick
Humans weak
Diseases leak

Money priority
Humans exported
Marking territory
Guns imported

Humans kidnapped
Women rapped
Lives begged
All taped

Tears lack
Government slack
Manics back
Terrorist attack!!!


©sim
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