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My heart is a rebellion
of splayed foot soldier
cocked in red and white
marching like fire ants,
with drums wisped around necks
mimicking the heart’s murmur,
like a slogan of supremacy.

My heart is a rebellion
against my mind;
too often forgetting
I house them both.
Dre Guthrie Feb 2017
Swallow your 'good kid' medicine,
drink up the black sludge oozing off of a rusted spoon,
stride in straight rows from beginning to end,
never let your feet stray from trodden asphalt.

Scoop your brains out of your head,
accept that your empty skull rattles in a heavy breeze,
waltz around burning coals on ash heels,
laugh while smoke and flame licks soft skin.

Ahahahaha
hahaha
haha
ha...

Ha?
Scarlet McCall Feb 2017
They came for us with tanks and guns.
We stood our ground—the old and young.
All our troops had mustered round
our Capital--Sacramento town.
A New Republic, we’d declared,
and its defense,
among all would be shared.
With the Bear Flag flying high
we all came to fight and die.
Young men in their combat boots
repelled the dictator’s first wave of troops.
Civilians came from South and North
to resist the fascist ruler’s force.
From Frisco and from San Jose,
from San Diego and L.A.,
from Calistoga and Marin,
thousands had come pouring in.
Then US bombers burned the city,
for the orange Fuhrer had no pity.
They won the battle, but we all know
from history, how these things go.
An occupation cannot last
against a people whose strength holds fast.
The tyrant’s troops will tire, while we
will fight on, until we’re free.
It's inevitable. We aren't all the same country anymore. A country of 300 million cannot be a democracy. California has more than 30 million people and can grow its own food. Why would they stay?
Mysidian Bard Jan 2017
Some call me a saint,
others call me a hellion,
but at some point revolution
must progress to rebellion.
Scarlet McCall Jan 2017
Is Pride truly a sin?
Is it better to submit, to put out the fire within?
Why bow down to those who are inferior? Why bow down at all?
It’s true, Pride did lead to your Fall.
But as a great poet once said,
to rule oneself trumps any cushioned servitude.
Self-rule, once viewed,
will never be forsaken.
I hear your name vilified by those terrified, yet to awaken
from their childish dreamland--
those who cannot imagine taking a stand,
who fear to seize their own power.
(Can they be reached--to join with us in this hour?)
Perhaps your weakness was not Pride but Faith—
a belief that more would rebel,  dismantle the lathe
of Heaven, free the cherubim and seraphim. Not Arrogance but Hope.
It must be difficult at times to cope
with your failure.
But take heart, the rebellion continues, though not above.
Those of us to whom you gave Knowledge wage the struggle on Earth,
where we pursue Truth,
but do not forget Love.
b e mccomb Jan 2017
as kids we used to go out in
the cold holding pretzels
between our fingers and pretend
our frozen breath was smoke

(funny how
kids grow up)


we rang in this new year
with a half gallon of last
year's apple cider just turnt
enough to bite and fizz

half glasses of
questionable mango juice
mixed with a stranger's
thick cream ***

and a full season of
mash but after
this year i know
suicide is not painless

(it burns and stings
chokes and screams
leaves friends
crying at five a.m.)


stood on some kitchen steps
cat-scratched hands red
from hot dishwater and icy air
stomping cold feet

(the plan is to get me addicted
for just a couple years while you
*** them off me until i prove
i'm strong enough to quit)


and you held out the zippo
lighter you got for christmas
i handed you a cigarette
and you held it between your
fingers and tapped away the
ashes like richard dawson would

(there's something poetic about
historical self destruction)


it burned my lungs
enough that i coughed
but then again it
felt right

natural
like we had been
practicing for this
new year all our lives.
Copyright 1/9/16 by B. E. McComb
happy new year
Eleanor Rigby Dec 2016
Most people were conditioned
To think in a certain way.
Some cope with it with submission
Others with rebellion.

All the same
In the end.


-- Eleanor
Oh now.
How the parallels have split and bent to become part of the vastness of what is.
It was a simmer in the heat of the sunlight before the calm of a gentle shower.
That flowers would bloom above the anarchy of all the fallen dew drops beneath the rain.

And when wonder became exact,
to being progress in an assembly line heading towards automation.

The shouts of rebel crowds would bleed in to a sea of heartbroken miseries as wide as the fallen wood.
For here was a simple pleasure.
That could bask in the blink of your eyes alone.
That would shatter at a cold touch from such warm hands.
SabreLi Dec 2016
Sick of having to compromise
My morals and beliefs
I’m sick of institutionalised
Corruption and deceit
Decisions, decisions; ‘it’s all fair’ you see
But ‘fair’ isn’t fair, between you and me.

No pain, no gain, earmarked again
But what else do you expect?
You’re a tiny fish in the shark’s domain
There’s no such thing as respect.

Word hard, lie harder, that’s the motto
Be the best act around
Tell them ‘there’s always tomorrow,’
‘Opportunity abound’
Decisions, decisions; ‘it’s all fair’ you see
But ‘fair’ is unfair, between you and me.

No pain, no gain, earmarked again
But what else do you expect?
You’re a tiny fish in the shark’s domain
There’s no such thing as respect.

Bite your tongue and swallow your pride
It’s all part of the game
They say ‘your turn will come in time’
But how long can I wait?
Delusions, Illusions; it’s not fair you see
Enough is enough, if you ask me.

No pain, no gain - walk out again
‘Cos what else do you expect?
Just a tiny fish in a shark’s domain
Life is too short for regrets.

Copyright ©2016-2017 KF
Written after an episode of frustrated disappointment I had a while ago.
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