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lila 3h
writing words of revolutions
with the real stories
scribbled out between the lines
encased in beautiful metaphors
hidden in plain sight
I was on the run
Heart beating to the sound of drums
seeing nothing but dark ahead
and the past chasing me down
When I fell
they played their wretched fanfare
then threw me into a wall
shooting me until they felt it was fair
Now, as I bleed to my death
drawing the last of my breaths
I smile with you in my mind
'cause they can break my body
but never my soul
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 60

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Oh My Beloved! Oh The Master!
Oh The Verity of All Creation

Thou, mercifully spared me from.
The revolution theory of polytheism.

That seemingly promotes the possible existence;
Of the prolific creator more than one.

Thous promptly relieved me from the mental illness, That the prolific creation and;
The divine creator is different entities.

I humbly bow to the Divine Alone The Creator,
And we circumambulate the luminous Throne!

Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
The left find themselves
caught in between socialism
and a rebellion.
On one hand,
they wish to grant their government
more power,
when on the other,
they claim they cannot be trusted.
Which one is it?
Time is ticking.
Bailey 6d
Isn't it funny
How things come and go?
The world's still spinning
Whether you like it or not.
I'm so sorry the world
Doesn't revolve around you.
Now run along child
And complain to someone new.
Bruce Demos Feb 11
A bird perched on my chest last night.
You should have seen me jolt awake,
How it remained so near my face!

I stared at its gem blue, stained red.
Yet when I touched its bloodied plume,
A storm of black consumed my room.

With lightning’s strike I could perceive
Sweet-scented subversive coffee
Among French dreams of Liberty

Followed by sounds of clashing arms
Between brothers of blue and gray
Over the fate of the enslaved.

At once I felt the long struggle of
Tenant farmers now freed from lords,
Working mothers who dream of more.

My child ached from days of work.
His stomach starved because the Board
Deemed him something they can’t afford.

Too much! Too sad! I couldn’t last
A second more, and so I seized
The beast as my new centerpiece.

Such bright feathers but such a bore,
Now gawk with me and wine some more.
How will we progress today?

Will we risk life attending Mosque,
Or have an affair with our spouse's boss?

Will we take the dog out for a walk,
Step on a landmine, use plastic straws?

Perhaps we'll play with our kids today,
Or call Amber Alert, wait scared, and pray?

Will we defy authority with a righteous tone,
Or leave our tail tucked, like a dog with his bone?

Will we gauge goods today for our Vegan menu,
Or show a distention as millions today do?

Will we drive around town for cheaper gas,
Or choose our pickings from picked-over trash?

Do you sling eggs and sausage for sub-minimum wages,
Or attend a visitation in a tortured MADD rage?

Will you tee off at eight, or do a spin class,
Or sit solitary watching the hourglass?

Did we place our script at the shiny drugstore,
Or wade across water to Jordan's fair shore?

Will we question the teacher at our kid's school,
Or play Avatar falling off our bar stool?

Did you set a reminder on your AI phone
For chicken delivery to your suburban home?

Will you lift copper tubing from construction sites,
Proclaiming your station in life gives you right?

Do I recline in my La-Z-Boy for a nap with a book,
Or teach someone to live with a line and a hook?

Will you take out your family,
Are you last on your list,
Will you reciprocate a handshake
Or raise a gloved fist?

Our words can't bind all our wounds,
Few are born with silver spoons,
We're not wrapped in silk cocoons.
A metamorphosis is coming
To this world of gloom,
A rousing group flight,
And it can't come too soon.
And I never even mentioned diseases.
anotherken Jan 22
Call it the most vile evil thing,
Call it what you want, it's still waiting,
Waiting to be put up once again.

The red flag of worker utopia,
The change for a capitalist dystopia.
What we need: a permanent revolution.

Where the term of rich and poor are free;
Here, we share our rewards equally!
Is it not the most ideal thing?

Coal is shovelled all as one,
Laziness is easily frowned upon.
Where people unite and work hard.

No more rich; no more poor.
Where we live by shovel and lure,
Where we die equal and pure.

In practice, yes, it may fail.
But in due time, we'll all follow the trail
To a utopia, filled with red and yellow.

Call me a fool, I may be a dull tool.
But I stand by my dreams, we'll start anew.
A permanent revolution for us all.
I believe in a permanent revolution.
Vera Jan 7
To wake up
against the rallying chains
of the unwilling,
who keep us captive and weak.
Lies become so cheap
you can buy a seat at parliament’s feet

But the price sleeps
In that house of white.

We as the people,
have a right-
to wake up
yet it is not enough,
awakening only works with
ten thousand fists in the air
in protest

Not to stand proud
but for firmness
denying weakness

We as the people,
are not a guest to democracy.

Democracy is a home for all

Those taller,
should use their fingertips
to reach toward the sun
rather than standing in the way  

Let that light no longer be difficult to obtain—
let it reign
over abuse of power
temperature rising on the corrupt

our brightness
   must be a force
to drive out darkness

Humanity standing tall for everyone
no worries of divinity
when the land we live on
wouldn’t be blessed by any god
soil planted by frauds
and the hate spread
grows nothing
from this earth

To rise-
Everyone can survive
Only with the courage
And ending of lost lives

Power depends on the downfall,
for someone to die

but revolution only requires
to rise,
to rise,
to rise.
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