"arbeit" poems
Would you believe me to be death?
I guess it makes sense
For this reality, truly is hell
But I am a cheater of death
So here I stand;
Amidst the stink of burning corpses,
Dead eyes of starring, children and women,
Alive.
Oh, but how I wish I was dead.
Now, 80 years after,
The smell of burned carcass,
Still clings to everything I touch
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 1:49 PM UTC
My bed is a mass grave
My toilet is a mass grave
My kitchen sink is a mass grave
Stretched out in lines of chrysalis coke, choking the evanescent life that could have been. Straight into the empty Coca Cola can you go. A litany of atrocity in every bed, futon, desks, truck stop bathroom, camera lens, attempting to capture the genocide on film.
Alas, the lens is Covered with white, bioluminescent death.
Choking the unborn in the ****** drain.
Coffee mug refill, for but a single dime,
sweaty palms connected to strained veins on wrists,
connected to thrusting elbows.
Firing wrist rocket, V2, V1, buzz bomb.
Unsuspecting future citizens, blocks of thousands at a time.
Tadpoles, rotting in murky basement suits the world over.
The war is on.
Auschwitz, Dachau, Sachsenhausen.
Arbeit Macht Frei.
Swim for dear life
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
oh **** off...
migrant crisis my ***
what with Ukraine
happening?
East European...
how about western women?
Manchester mothers?
no?
oh well....
watch my face...
do i ******* look
like i, might, care?!
no... no?!
well...
thank you...
because?
i don't!
i'm thinking: let them
**** your harlots...
you managed to call my ethnicity,
vermin.... RATS....
whatever ally you
had... gone...
next time you ask, ask
a Pakistani to deal with your women...
i'll be most obliged...
to tell you:
**** OFF!
no... you told me once,
you do not assert the stature of telling me
twice...
i don't care whether it is
or whether it isn't your island...
you violated, or at least your
citizen, the rules of p4rivate property...
no...
nein nein nein!
for once i'll turn the volume
to a Reading Park volume:
**** you!
and your ambitions
of a mastering of the races...
claiming quasi Boar fixture;
******* capitalists...
with their made in china of
what used to be the manufacturing jobs...
arbeit macht frei...
arbeit macht frei...
arbeit ist frei...
mein, mein, herr...
made in china..
my *** my *** was made in china...
your argument for liberty?
hardly comprised in Monaco.
yes, those Eastern European
women...
pretty much as those ***** whip
Western European men...
the sort of men:
shy of death...
one you almost
wish to **** with a bludgeon
that might leave fingerprints;
lesson no. 1...
you come after Eastern European women...
lesson no. 2:
there are no Western European
"men" to come after...
sure... *******
little men...
something between
petting an in between
petting a panda and a koala;
totally castrato,
just the way Western Women like
their men to be...
obedient...
pussy-whipped...
leashed.
mind you...
what are the thoughts
of an Eastern European man
concerning Western women?
and, why,
would, i, heaven, and, hell,
on, earth, ever,
want, to, **** this,
exercise, in, making,
equivalent, raising,
a, ******* brat?!
i don't want these women,
no more than the women
want me...
apparently Pakistanis are
in higher demand.
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
Today these feelings are billowing
like a prevalent arbitrary
tension
of poets as elves
Is there any
thing new
to be proud of
a words structured in an order
peculiarly pleasant
refind enough
just and justified
as
the right chord
is
as a melody of a classical piano
to be laid down on a virtual array
of a poetry realm
over (( night I've danced
beautifully with you ))
laping erratically striking
harsh on hearing nerves system
embrace thy emptiness
to write is to discover
to arbeit machts mir frei
praying for minutes for a pasus that's not so
poignantly s l o w
after
hysterya of bumping crazy chords stampede
fades
hope that you are looking as nice as a well nurtured horse
horhe
hi **
four legged friends are a balsam
for our torn souls
wrecked emptyness is eating me alive
as a wicked
bewilderd beast
you are a honey jar
tilled with a bunch
of naughty
mischievous
sunny rays
tickle tickle
maroon and gold sweety
I need a bachelor
I needn't think unappropriate
I need to breathe I need to breathe
I needn't think about parasympathics
A n d D a m n I n e e d B a c h
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:21 AM UTC
We're all stuck
In this panopticon
They promise us
Work will make us free
But they've lied about everything
So far
In the ***** ghettoes
Death was a fickle friend
My mom held me tight
And told me that everything
Would be just fine
But her last intake of breath
Was a poison
That overtook her lungs
And everything
Is not fine
And I'm starting to wonder
What freedom are they promising
It's ironic that our work should not
Make us free from these camps
But make us free from life
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Lying in my bunk,
the chattering teeth
sound like hail stones
bouncing off a tin roof.
But it's not hailing here.
No, not here in Hell.
Here in Hell it's putting down
a hefty December snow.
*Since when does it snow
in Hell?*
It's summer in Hell.
*That must be when it snows
in Hell.*
Outside,
warm tangerine glow
and circling spotlights,
like blood-driven sharks,
illuminate the dead sky.
Two chimneys tower
over the grounds like
erupting brick volcanoes.
I open the window
to capture a snowflake.
One wobbles lethargically
into my palm and crumbles
into white ash...
*Arbeit Macht Frei...
Free as a snowflake
in the summer breeze*.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC
A pitiful heap
of emaciated bodies
Unceremoniously discarded
into a vast mass grave
Falling limp and lifeless
like marionettes with strings so brutally cut
I close my eyes to shut out the horror
but I can still see them
What seems an eternal nightmare
has lasted but a day
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 8:08 PM UTC
This is what comes of it, living abroad
you become used to programmes
talking about what it's like to shop
somewhere & the upkeep of capitalism
that very much has downsides
just as back home, communism had.
And now your prime minister is cutting
aid to the sick, disabled & the poor
& is almost shouting
' Arbeit macht frei'
from the Westminster rooftops
& calling in psychiatrists
to label those unwilling
to work as 'mentally ill'
e.g one step from ' undesirable',
which is, ironically, a similar thing
to what they did back home
while an aged Lord takes drugs
with prostitutes & an MP
claims hundreds of thousands in expenses
'Arbeit mach frei' ( germ) - a **** slogan, roughly translates as ' Work gives freedom'.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
I wake from sleep and I fear.
It’s like the years did not happen
And clapping my hands for light
Doesn’t dispel the long nights
When the fights still went on
And dawn didn’t erase the war
For the world is at it again
Men hating other men over skin
And ****** is no longer a sin
If it is done with flags waving.
The raving of insane rulers
Revelers in hate and genocide
Have again set aside the gods,
The ones they swear about
And shouted down all opposition
Taking the position it's fine to ****
And still claim the victims are godless
And the murderers are good.
Why don't they question any evil
That doesn’t cavil at hypocrisy
But jealously protects its power
And rains down hour after hour
Of lies and obvious obfuscations
To nations powerless to stop them?
Whims of evil men should be taken
As words to be shaken off, ignored
As if from bored, evil childish brats,
Not taking off of hats and bowing,
Plowing under civil rights like weeds
And laughing at the needs of the weak.
Speak up before it’s too late to deny
That kind of guy respectability!
We still have the ability, the right.
Fight so we don’t become **** Germany.
Don’t let that be our national destiny.
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC
the civil servant serves the sermon
servile to the party chairman
determined to deter the vermin
from scratching for the crumbs
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 11:46 PM UTC
the **** have you learned?
mierda madre!
there's a roll on the R...
rhasp...
marx learned
his dialectics from Hegel?
so....
everyone forgot about Kant?!
leave me drunk
singing
ah'oy'ah yo'y'ah...
i'll sniff the grounds,
take a dog to a tow...
and beg for relief...
the cull in tow
for all the security cricis..
syrian death toll..
children cripples...
when the sunni overshadow
the shiite....
prior to orthodox
islam splitting...
death in Damascus....
orthodoxy you leverage
cok-sucker...
squirt ah-Lisbon...
ich haben leben
vor morschfleisch...
schwachkopf ist alles gut?!
alles-gut!
ich bin
zu heben ein ursache...
mein kind...
mein herz...
ich bin kind...
ich bin herz...
du ein
schaudern
kommen sie:
willkommen...
ich haben
augen zu sehen
schatten.
die gott!
die gott!
vater-bergwerk!
auf ein selbst!
auf ein mann!
sein deutsche...
heil...
aye!
wert die arbeit!
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 10:28 PM UTC
/aus sie volk: sie kann nur verstehen schwab! schweinscheissedeutsche! gut! so es sein... origamikapitalismus... papierspeichelschimmel: nein papier! vor! die mumifizieren pharaosowjetisch! und die akt?! wer mein souffleur?!
lernen aber die wenig von
deutsche,
zu gewinnen
ein vater-herz aus ein, volk;
as the dynamic
of perceptions go about...
on, mythological grounding...
schattenarbeit...
größermühe:
für die:
"geringer"... arbeit:
diese menschen müssen
"geringer": arbeit!
zustand ist seele von mann!
or maybe...
i'm just ronin...
who has become too...
germanophilic...
perhaps just, that;
come to love the pleasures,
and the tortures,
of this, destined peoples.
don't worry...
like any capitalist...
i'm only in this affair
("dasein") one sided,
concerned with only
a mind's worth of a kept
hard-on to boot
away from writing
an epitaph!
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC
Arbeit spielen
Arbeit Arbeit Spiel
Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Spiel
Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Spiel
Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit
Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit
Arbeit hart genug
und
vielleicht eines Tages genug Geld sparen
und
dann können Sie sich einen kleinen Urlaub leisten und
dann zurück zur Arbeit Arbeit Arbeit
Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 2:33 AM UTC