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"dien" poems
(for Nietzche, who cowers behind art.) The world calls the conquered ****** to remember that the sun every night yearns to rise, to rise, to rise when there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing. Yet still it yearns to rise, to rise, to rise. The world called Canaanites ****** while they traded and toiled along the shores of land promised to the aged heretic of Sumer, whose wife could give only love. The world called Hebrews ****** while they raised Pharoah tombs Provided respite from the eastern chariots Stubborn in refusal of the living gods Drinking only Eloheim's bitter grape That provides brief respite from his decrees When delving deep in one's cups. The world called Britons ****** When flogged Boudicea fought and fought and finally fell To Roman spear and gladius When Angles and Saxons raided then stayed When Cromwell climbed the pale cliffs The world called the Iberians, Gauls and Teutons ****** when Caesar crossed the Rubicon Pax Romana for Citizens born Land for the wealthy, voting rights too Taxes and tithes from their toil. The world called the Khoikhoi of South Africa ****** From the VOC to fatal Apartheid Up rose a man The heart of the land A man named Nelson Mandela. The world called the Viet Minh ****** from Can Vong to Dien Bien Phu 'till they slogged howitzers above to reign Napoleonic terror below. And to them it was just The American War After the world called them Vietnamese. The world calls the conquered ****** to remember that the sun every day yearns to rise, to rise, to rise When there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing yet still it yearns to rise, to rise, to rise 'though it never watches its own rising undoing raiment of fading embers swimming naked in the royal blue bathing all with daily newborn naked glory chasing the celestial tidal tease that seems to wander where it please reminding that all are born free but can grow into ignorance and be called ****** Seek truths that hold in unity; that provide nourishment beneath the lash allowing one to rise, to rise, to rise.
0
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 9:01 AM UTC
The World Calls the Conquered ******
(for Nietzche, who cowers behind art.) The world calls the conquered ****** to remember that the sun every night yearns to rise, to rise, to rise when there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing. Yet still it yearns to rise, to rise, to rise. The world called Canaanites ****** while they traded and toiled along the shores of land promised to the aged heretic of Sumer, whose wife could give only love. The world called Hebrews ****** while they raised Pharoah tombs Provided respite from the eastern chariots Stubborn in refusal of the living gods Drinking only Eloheim's bitter grape That provides brief respite from his decrees When delving deep in one's cups. The world called Britons ****** When flogged Boudicea fought and fought and finally fell To Roman spear and gladius When Angles and Saxons raided then stayed When Cromwell climbed the pale cliffs The world called the Iberians, Gauls and Teutons ****** when Caesar crossed the Rubicon Pax Romana for Citizens born Land for the wealthy, voting rights too Taxes and tithes from their toil. The world called the Khoikhoi of South Africa ****** From the VOC to fatal Apartheid Up rose a man The heart of the land A man named Nelson Mandela. The world called the Viet Minh ****** from Can Vong to Dien Bien Phu 'till they slogged howitzers above to reign Napoleonic terror below. And to them it was just The American War After the world called them Vietnamese. The world calls the conquered ****** to remember that the sun every day yearns to rise, to rise, to rise When there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing yet still it yearns to rise, to rise, to rise 'though it never watches its own rising undoing raiment of fading embers swimming naked in the royal blue bathing all with daily newborn naked glory chasing the celestial tidal tease that seems to wander where it please reminding that all are born free but can grow into ignorance and be called ****** Seek truths that hold in unity; that provide nourishment beneath the lash allowing one to rise, to rise, to rise.
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62
it became a perpetual motion a dance someone hands the card, another lights the amount of aching discolored grazed fingers was immense put your finger on the flint wheel press it down karen thought we should make a sign the scrambles of bruised fingers for a piece of cardboard my fingers throbbed as i scratched our message on the board i kept the pink flower locked in the crease of my hand and threw them in air “draft card burning here” it was 7 00 in the morning october 21 1967 i was only 17 my brother jeffrey was flying a plane over dien bien phu a friend richard was screaming in the trenches of xuan loc a lover michael treading through a swamp in mui bai **** i stepped up to The Police. The. Men. In. Suits. Stared. At. Me Blank. Faces. And. No. Expression. I picked up my Pink Daisy, and brought it up to their bayonets this is for Jeffrey, for Richard, and for Michael the men in suits stared at me in a world of chaos and confusion all I heard was Silence.
0
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
for the 882,000
Chillin Feelin Growin Killin Time As I can't even tell You how we are dien Everyday we dien An no one is tryin To do a dam thing To fix the madness That is happenin And if they are More people need to listen Even me cause I can't hear a dam thing Speak louder With some feelin Cause we only have 80yrs Till our corpse is chillin.
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
Chillin
ah really hope mah words done fall on deff ears ah really hope dey hit home and squash all mah fears   ah really hope mah actions done land on blind eyes ah really hope dey too hit home an silance all mah cries   ah really hope mah love done fall on a broken hart ah really hope it hits home and keaps meh from fallin apart   ah really hope mah faith done find a fallin soul ah really hope it his home and leads mah to dah final gole      ah really hope ahm lisnin when dey speak ta meh ah reall hope wah dey say gets through an saves meh   ah really hope ahm ready when ahm called to prove ah really hope dey prove ahm worthy of her too   ah really hope ahm not da broken hart ah really hope da pieces can na be taken back apart   ah really hope ahm faithful when da sole come callin ah really hope dat sole done do meh in to da dien
0
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 3:14 AM UTC
In To Da Dien
This life has 2 get better Eye StaYup all night for nothing Close my Eyes and hope to see you Soon Cops pulling up homieZ dien slowly All Eye think about is the future and how great it will be Eye think about it all Won't stop Missing that weekend
0
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
miss
I´m nothing but a common man never graced a table fit for kings nor have I worn the finest cloth... I do not speak with learned tongue; But when I see the troops parading and when the band begins to play my soul steps out to join them... because that is the soldiers way; For many years I served my country and many years I served my queen for these two things I´d fight and die... a soldiers heart the reason why; I may have come from humble stock but the values I have learned of comradeship, esprit de corps... and undying love for my homeland.
0
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
Ich dien
Old women dien young baby cryn is there any rest for the weary tonite yes brought by the moonlight my head is poundn my tears are moundn shoutn to heaven as i hold back the lightn strike wheres the rest for the weary tonite preacher may say shes headn the other way if thats the case then make a place for my withered soul theres no denyn so stop your testifin the old lady is dien 309's comin on line i can hear the whistle whine we see the mothers worry as the daughters hurry line my nest grow your roots as time will pass love is all that last as i shout to heaven why me why me the crazy answer came so clear why not why not so go and let it be the end
0
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
aunt D
Tongues of fire stab the sky;                 fiery discharge from the mouths of serried bells                               Thunder rumbles through still air;                 death’s express trained on someone’s nowhere.                             Dark clouds roil in the distance;                                 destruction’s twisted smoke.                                        A shrill bird sings.                          The pockmarked face of mother earth                          recoils at the touch of invading ghosts.                     Foot follows foot through mud and tall grass.                                      Torment is a green maze.                             Turn, twist, walk in paranoid silence;                                          nightmare topiary.                                                 No exit,                                          only a door to Hell                               Lives rush past terror-filled eyes;                                        spirits leak into the earth.                                            There is no requiem—                                only keening women to pipe us on.
0
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
Dien Cai Dau (Crazy in the Head)
Tongues of fire stab the sky;                 fiery discharge from the mouths of serried bells                               Thunder rumbles through still air;                 death’s express trained on someone’s nowhere.                             Dark clouds roil in the distance;                                 destruction’s twisted smoke.                                        A shrill bird sings.                          The pockmarked face of mother earth                          recoils at the touch of invading ghosts.                     Foot follows foot through mud and tall grass.                                      Torment is a green maze.                             Turn, twist, walk in paranoid silence;                                          nightmare topiary.                                                 No exit,                                          only a door to Hell                               Lives rush past terror-filled eyes;                                        spirits leak into the earth.                                            There is no requiem—                                only keening women to pipe us on.
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19
I drowned my soul in Coke and *** Just ‘cause I cant stand what the hell I’ve Done. Ya see mother ******* like me are just plain Crazy, Kinda like a German **** or Japanese Kamikaze. ***** dudes don’t understand what kinda **** im On, But by the time they find out I havem’ hung in a tree at the crack of Dawn. Then the next night I pullem’ down, Choppem’ up from there neck to the ground, Then I feast on there body like a Cannibal, And I release the power of Mr. Hannibal. It feels so good to let this Out, Never forget to live life to the fullest and never leave any Dought. ‘Cause once a mother ****** calls you Out, Grab them by the neck and snap it in two, Before you turn around and he does it to you.. And I’m not lien… I’ll burry you 6feet deep and alive But slowly Dien, with your whole family Cryin’.. I’m gonna slow it down right here, ‘Cause I know ya ears can barely stand to hear, What I’m Sayin. But by the time I hit the end of this verse, You’ll think my **** name is Satan! And don’t test me boy ‘Cause you already know I’m not Playin'
0
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 1:49 AM UTC
dark intensity
I feel, my insides a churning I know, there's something on the way Looks like, that chili is still burning All I can do right now is pray Don't spew it out tonight You, know you'll be alright There's a bathroom on the right I know, it's gastroenteritis I know, my end is coming soon It looks like, I got some on your sweater Oh Hell, better get the mop and broom Don't lose it all tonight You, know it'll be alright There's a bathroom on the right I think, I may be shortly dien I can't, control this train I'm on I better, get my *** in motion Even though, I'm already gone Don't erupt tonight You, know you'll be alright There's a bathroom on the right
0
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 7:54 AM UTC
Bad Chili Rising (to the tune of CCR's "Bad Moon Rising")