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PiLomus Sep 2018
You should do this,
You should do that,
Why these diktats I do not understand.
Are we living our life to comply?
Are not we here to supply.
Why we are to be part of some creed,
When in reality we all are from the same seed.
We are stuck in a whirlpool of sanctions,
And I do not know how to come out of this expansion.

Expectations are defining our life more than existence do,
And the biggest question humanity is asking
what should I do?
We are blaming history for our misconceptions,
Naming presumptions as The inceptions.
How we are going to move ahead,
When we are becoming a body with just a head,
Shedding our humanity for a mere piece of bread.

We are the creation and creators of our world,
All of us is an existence a real thing,
Our creativity is our ability to think.
Then why should we be like someone,
When we could be anyone.
I want to holler out at the world with this answer
Yes, we can
Because we are not endowed with a taste
We have a whole Selection.
Expectations as a hope are a bliss but as a requirement a living hell.
Amitav Radiance May 2015
Forsaken identity
Distant nature
Deepening chasm
Between worlds
Tired minds
Clichéd diktats  
Concentrated power
High-handedness
Iron fists
Crushed rebellion
Tired souls
Unsavory history
Swelling disharmony
Point of no return
Given a chance
Missed opportunities
For many centuries
Time to wrap up
The hegemony
Lawrence Hall Mar 2017
The Revolution is a Corpse

The revolution is a stinking corpse
And spreading béarnaise sauce all over a corpse
While chanting “It’s alive!” doesn’t make it so
Because a revolution can never live

Artists are never revolutionaries
Because artists work up the good and true
From the foundation of creation
While revolutionaries obey diktats

Rearranging a corpse is never art
And revolution is always a corpse
Honest people say what is true
The iron law - true things prevail
And not the lies that often spew
From diktats which our rights curtail

Opinions and ideas abound
What are the signs of truth telltale?
Follow incentives - search around
What ideas will our freedoms derail?

Follow ideas to where they lead
Think of the results - in detail
Talk and discuss - think and read
Stand for freedom. Let truth prevail

Does an idea centralize power?
Central powers will always fail
Though dictators may gain the hour
In the end - true things prevail

Bitcoin keeps the ledger true
Decentralized - on worldwide scale
Better money for me and you
Come join and let the truth prevail
You can see this poem on a background here https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery055TrueThingsPrevail.html
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2019
~for my poet friends who will understand exactly
the nature of our ailment/adventure~

it begins when once poem titled,
which, a first clue, nothing more, a mumbled prophesy,
an arrow to duration & direction home but unknown,
a one-way stop sign neatly lettered in the
smallest sized letters with the disclaimer above

you sojourn to an uncultivated land, not sown.

you travel to places “finding out what you
don’t want to know, what you don’t want to find out,”
no guide, no well trodden path, no cultural prescribed woke diktats,
you are,
taken unwilling more than you lead, where endings
surprising, unforeseen, return tickets never offered for sale

pick words, more likely,
they pick you,
the only constant your rapid metabolism,
a winter snow blow, swirling churning, even midst
the most languid, sultry southern summer day

mind the mind.
mind the ground frozen until a tiny tickle trickle verse
becomes a full-on ground melt, wet and soggy,
******* you into a
rice-rock-hard pellet-poem thriving,
you observe your own drowning in a
6 inch deep wet paddy

the bottom line,
the net net, summary judgment
you commenced with urgent hesitancy for the
risks are great now, pen dagger chest pointed,
you, ******, in crosshairs, your own graven idol image

having found out what you
don’t want to know,
having found out what you
don’t want to find out

find myself weeping,
fists holding my head,
communing with floorboards oak hardened,
groaning acknowledging,
this, this, THIS


this discovering, uncovering,
this is
why I write,
this is
why I dare not write anymore!





12/13/2019
so-me-times the compulsion is greater than the fear
Dharmista Oct 2014
The world inflicts wounds
I don't react.
Follows old diktats
While I see them quiet.
Treads the wrong way
And the majority sway.
I don't have a word to say.
Encourages stupidity
Motivates ignorance.
Punishes you for being right.
Rescuing the truth despite.
Still I don't react.
Kills you, destroys you
Stifles your inner voice
Undeserving people taste success
While the intelligentsia demise.
And still I am a dumb witness.
Well.. I am quiet.
But you never knew.
An ongoing fight ensues
Within a chosen few.
We call them writers
We call them lyricists
The misfits and the poets.
Fight is on
As they write along.
Behind closed doors.
The moment you say
'Yea that's true.'
We know its gone through.
Their work they dont sell
They are a closed door rebel.
Swording with the pen.
They fight battles unknown.
Their work don't sell.
They are a closed door rebel.
Urmila Apr 2015
I'm lost,
In all the books I read,
In all the people I meet,
In all the songs I hear,
In all the quotes I save,
In all the pictures I take,
In all the efforts I make

I'm lost,
Desperately searching,
For an answer,
For a purpose,
For a life,
For myself

I'm lost,
Drowned by diktats,
And a disregard of them,
Drowned by the urge to please,
And by the conflict to not

I'm lost,
And until I find myself,
I'll remain lost,
In a variable you.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2018
The revolution is a stinking corpse
And spreading Walter Duranty all over a corpse
While chanting “It’s alive!” won’t make it so
Because a revolution is only death

Artists are never revolutionaries
Because artists work up the good and true
From the foundation of Creation
While revolutionaries obey diktats

Rearranging a corpse is never art
And revolution is always a corpse
Yenson Nov 2020
The backseat apparatchiks
in doctrinaire control
minds signed over to diktats unquestioned
the State puppets marching to order in vain weeps
losing power in subjugation and arrested free-wills
the reign of fear by the apparatus that owns them
the muzhiks baying in sleepwalks
scrambling in piteous droves to curry favours
look, we are Believers and comrades
we are from nothing and wear depravations with pride
we are obedient to all diktats and we do as told
we are flying monkeys
servants of the Politburo of east London
totally assimilated and loyal to this crusade of lying dummies
in fear we tremble at risk of disobedience
what becomes of us to be cancelled
without brains, inner core, *****, camaraderie
and that cheapest of entertainment for us muzhiks, ***
surely its SUICIDE
made depraved and then deprived what else is there
we are slave to the system and will do anything, anything please
yes, we serve you, we will show you how faithful we are
we will persecute any REFUSNIKS according to your words
ours is not to think or question WHY
ours is to do or die.....
Success is not measured by what you accomplish, but by the opposition you have encountered, and the courage with which you have maintained the struggle against overwhelming odds.
Sic semper tyrannis ad mortem
("Thus always I bring death to tyrants").

Ever since early forerunners
of twenty first century
mankind (sprinted
across trackless expanse extant
upon planet Earth),
modern **** Sapiens essentially
won out as coterie precursors
sans predominant
present day team of rivals.

The zigzag line,
whence our arboreal ancestors
skedaddled their way
toward capital one delineation
of diehard deadheads
******* disaster, and acquiring
dubious distinction
decreeing domain of oblate spheroid
as prime real estate,
(when Prometheus fire privy to proto
humans), the imperceptible
figurative ink did not dry
before hairy hooligans
edged out other prehensile primates.

Enfant Terrible employed
as an analogy for punctuated
equilibrium witnessing
boom rang amidst feral creatures
unpredictably crowing
with nirvana seeking
foo fighting fecundity
(inadvertently in sync
with Feng Shui)
to launch scrappy
posse of measly mensch
kinsmen/women into the realm.

This phenomena countless
thousands of years since
inception of brutal, nasty
and short present day troglodytes.
With the aid
of an imaginary crystal ball,
the seeds of White Lily got borne
via Aery windy gusts jet setting
most “advanced” pygmy beasts
as animalistic bellwether
per future adventure,
whence many anthropological
opposable thumbed volumes
yet written till present
deadly crossroads
announced ruthless Reichstag.

Credos, codas, diktats
governing infantile Messerschmitt
Sol Invictus yet unnamed role
as most dangerous living
beings known to exist
unwittingly usurped grandiose
nom de plume as Master
predicating their survival on
brawn and brains
to public enemy number one
to all other life forms.

As the fittest (at least
when accident found tendency
to crowdsource),
the mob mentality already evident as
hyena cackles quickly garnered
rubric of might equals
right), thus grabbing
by force of strong arms (fingers
clutching deadly lances)
top prize as sovereign
dictators of the Proletariat).

Over the course of millennia,
they became de
facto dominant species.

The evolutionary descendents
metamorphosed into bipedal hominids
of recent mankind did not monkey
around when competing in the Human Race.

They elbowed, jostled,
and ousted competitors eventually
to ascend inexorably their way
to top tier of totalitarianism.

Great indomitable naked apes
of early simian evolution,
would not settle for any role
except top banana in
hierarchical schema
of biota extant throughout nascent
dawn of civilization.

Violence with whatever
material at hand vanquished any
threat to world wide webbed *******
sans existence at dawn of civilization.

Closer to late morning
and high noon tall tale ushered
vanity viz venal, vicious,
vocal Tarzans, 10,000 Maniacs,
and voodoo worshippers
blitzed like banshees.

Literal face saving
each manikin for himself
(gnome hatter
whether blood pact swore)
bludgeoned, hoodwinked,
and whipped warriors wary warlocks
fought tooth nail to death.

One instant found a bald
(ah that explains receding heir line)
bandied legged ******* macho tree
swinging sportsman
brazenly boasting bona fide.

Well guess what ma friend?

That sure-footed
geico hunter met ****** death
on an empty stomach
without the aid
of fast food restaurants.

His purported blood brothers abandoned him
(at dropped née hurled clump of offal)
as dependent and reliable brethren.

No such thing
as gentlemen’s agreement ruled ******
terra firmae.

Amidst warren of primates,
a promise quickly broached
instantaneously after pledging allegiance
to a pseudo fraternity.
Yenson Jul 2023
And in the scant arenas of ungracious limited
they mill and cavort in talentless skits
frailing adornments in the fineries of nothing
it is as always to do what they do best
for in foggy mists blazes the inherent rituals
of overcompensating moribund minds

And age old fears embraces the samenesses
tasting damp salts in unison breeds
red diktats snaps out ingloriously force fed
overeact overseason overcompensate
herds free will and actions die to commands
and in fear weak heads acquiesce

Like sheep like cattles like leemings et all
overcompensating as wont
dare yo talk smile befriend or show kinship
to the regal fellow in crosshairs
all go and batter thine inferiority complexes
be base be crude be rude

And in the scant arenas of ungracious limited
coralled in fear of expulsion
fragile egos crave mass invite and acceptance
in dread to be thought kowtowing
they quake and flip overcompensating for show
yet just cowards showing calling cards
Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect. Mark Twain

Sometimes the majority just means all the fools are on the same side. John Kennedy

It is not worth an intelligent man's time to be in the majority. By definition, there are already enough people to do that. G. H. Hardy
Lawrence Hall Aug 23
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                Our Children Will Ask Us What We Did in 2024


                                            Thus was th’ applause they meant,
                           Turned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame
                           Cast on themselves from thir own mouths.

                                   Milton, Paradise Lost, X.545-547


Have we not learned?

The Zeppelinfield, the Kroll Opera House
The Great Hall of 10,000 People
The Hippodrome, the Piazza Venetia
Red Square, and the Quicken Loans Arena

Weak beings subsumed within one commanding Will
Adoring with glistening eyes and beating hearts
A strident oligarchy of destiny
Chanting obscurities and pumping fists

But when the chanting stops and foul diktats roll –
Will you - will I? - be a defiant soul?
I speak of both dominant political parties and their neo-Nuremberg rallies.

— The End —