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And who shall care for that o'er which you weep
Or share the burden of this world's foredoom
Seen starkly? Behold, a haunting specter creeps
Among the binding fates spun on life's loom.
You’ll wake them not to that great misery
Which emptiness of pride has reckless wove
But pluck the web for loss and trembling
Of idols in the soul for which they strove.
Put off your glossy youth and early oaths
Devout nativity; raise up your cup
To ***** Lethe and thunder with the strokes
Of fury, treading out the ripened sup!
They will not bear to flay their sacred cows
But shades of death endure and prostrate bow.

Ages in their veins, more raging, whirl
As titanic potentials’ dreadful might
Turns girl to boy, conversely boy to girl
Unlimbing reason for unreason's fright.
That once gone right, here deftly ventures left
As self-conception staggers to its doom
Bursting the bonds of day and night, distressed
With desperate grasping measures, late and soon.
So set on generation's awesome curve
Of ageless heart and mind, how shall they bear
The die they cast at first when madly swerved
Into contesting congresses of care?
Dividing parts, dissolving in the same
The common wealth, no part the whole maintains.

Boast of the times and gilded privilege
Are these pretended guardians of State
Whose politics of power have sought to bank
Their future 'gainst dissenting arguments.
With rhetoric to foist a brave new age
They come as chaos mages on the brink
Of all disposing will, all ends betrayed
To serve their corporations’ nod and wink.
Auctioning the world, their goods are sold
Commercially with avaricious might
That sanctions lust, in quest of pyrite gold
And pirate earnings, staked upon deceit.
At last, the men of mock integrity
Luring the world to covert slavery!

Hurrah, the master men and lords of time-
From time brought forth, they are the world's latest
Whose overweening strut is in the best
Of culminating age, the mind refined!
Now to and fro they go, their lists increased
With every tally; line for line computes
Their beads of enterprise, the while relieved
Of tribulation, fate of hapless dupes.
Learning is theirs, precepts are theirs to bend;
Lawyers, clerics, politicians rest
Upon this pillar; they can split or mend
The finest lines; no guile their thoughts distress.
Step by step they round the universe
And finite lies to infinite converse!

What pride of theirs that strains for fleeting fame
Seeking to wrest from time the wasting plaque
Of recognition, host to every hack
That postures on the stage of the obscene!
Pretending worth, their practiced scripts dispose
In mocking light an empty dignity
While darkening intents; witless disclosed
On lips and brow their self-important glee.
As if full-wrought by truth's heroic wing
Their pride aspires; on vain conceits they soar
Up through the mist while private songs they sing
In self-made praise for deeds of phantom lore.
From belfries of the schools, in broken flight
They shriek away, hell's banshees of the night!

These timely wise, entranced of mind, decree-
Hear all you simple what we shall disclose
Which craft of our discernment is repose
Of wealth in understanding mastery.
A gift to all, these rich-invested beings
Pretending to resolve profundities
Decoct the world with learned fluency
Of torture ways, all gnostic knots untied.
A flair for comedy, their gelded self
Mounts every snorting bore of certainty
Then armchair resting, pants to yet indulge
Another ******* idol’s reckless scheme.
Some stowaways upon the open seas
And polished sextants of academe!

Here is their derogation, born from creeds
Of judgment in self-righteous confidence
That proves for nothing to the innocent
But swamps life's refugees with cruel conceit.
With ages they have built the edifice
Of dogma; every pit and lion’s maw
Is their contraption, set in consciousness
Of the condemning letter of their laws.
Cunning serpents, masquerading doves
They fashion argument, more vicious wrought
With rationales to blacklist those who strove
To flee their institutions’ heinous plot.
Enamored with a fascist benefit
The systems of the world they implement!

Fanatic men, how bold they tempt the fates
That meet to each the fruits of brutish will
Redoubled, which they’ve spent in kind to date
Upon their brothers, sisters…other self.
They make an estimation, rule the span
Between men; lord over equity
With zero tolerance and brazen hand
To smash upon their consanguinity.
Such is the wicked priesthood’s confidence
In its own judgment, ever owning not
The wrong condemned in others, deep dispensed
To every heart, from roots of life begot.
More wretched they, and haunted with the shame
Of hypocrites, bedeviled by the same!

O law of learning, sum of thinkers' best
Now magnified, ensconced upon the power
Of natal worth and privileged social dower;
Once ruled by you, the Earth pleads for redress.
No scruple sought, no reservation found
To staunch against your certifying will
Which point of iron stylus now furrows
The world at large as object for the ****.
So cart away your pleading victim, mired
In ****** wallows of concupiscence
And grace deny, self-dubbed the doubtless squire-
Errant usurper of the human quest.
How dignified, the rake of your ambition
That promises continual division!
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Snorers all
scattered world-wide
in offices and homes
in boardrooms
and bedrooms;
O Snorers all
loud and clear
low and shrill -
listen ye
to the loud wake-up call
as from Rip Van Winkle's Snore

stand up united
and drown the howl of protests
against snoring that is surely no less divine
than the Chorus of Angels in Heaven -
for the great God who made the Aurora
no doubt also conceived of the Divine Snore!


and so, stand up, ye sonorous Snorers!
unite! I call unto ye!
unite against the detractors
and the critics
and the complainants
and those of low culture
who cannot
lie still and listen to Snoring
as one rightly would at a concert hall
listening to the delightful play
of a quartet of violins


O how long will you take it lying down,
ye blessed Snorers of the World?
let the world know
the first divine music was indeed the Snore;
and the very height of human communication
is the unabashed snore
for all other modes of communication
lead to mis-communication
but the language of the snore is always exact and crisp!
the message of the Snore always precise!
the meaning always loud and clear!
and the very height of the snore
(let us declare to the world)
is the couple in bed
snoring away together
beside each other
making such divine music
making love with the rolling thunder of snores
so that one might say:
do we have a couple of wild boars
copulating in the next room?




stand up, O Snorers of the World -
and defy the mockers
and those who seek divorce
on grounds of insufferable Snoring;
stand up against those who sue
for loss of sleep from
friendly, neighborly Snorers;
stand up now
against these losers, these whingeing nags
uncouth and untutored
in the mysteries of the art of the Snore!
stand up and with one loud blast of
a universal Snore,
with one melodious Snore
let us
drown their dissenting voices,
their unprovoked cacophonous complaints!
stand up, Snorers young and old!
unite, Snorers black, white and gold!
defy the world! O ye Snorers
of quite nights and of lazy days:
let us overwhelm the world
with the pleasing symphony of Snores;
let us bless the ears of the world
with the dulcet streams of varied notes and arias!
stand up! unite! - O much-maligned Snorers of the World!
with one voice raised
in a triumphant Snore
let us declare:
*No longer will we be silent!
Our voices will be heard!
Devin Weaver Feb 2013
Juxt

Easy bucks
Market flux
The democratic peace
Imperial caprice
Praise be to lord and Savior
Sacrament, scandal-flavored
Legion of dissenting voice
Treason in the use of choice
Give me your teeming tired, your huddled poor
Bones with to festoon the corporate door

And if you could turn to me, adoring
I’ll check my busted magic billiard ball
All signs point toward what I’m ignoring
Burnt the bridge to your heart, land, deed and all

When time is right, we secretly confide
What should have lain bare in our first report
Our ideal homes of mental cards collide
Seems, in comparison, we all fall short

Glory in history contiguous
Gory details, a bit ambiguous
The equality of man
Neo-****, Ku Klux ****
Only with the best intent
Rubber bullet malcontents
Perpetual motion
Toward backward notions
Money flows
Deathly throes

Oppose
James M Vines Nov 2016
Hate and ridicule comes to the forefront. Anyone who disagrees is a bigot you see. Differing opinions must be silenced, that is just how it has to be. Hiding behind children used as human shields, to deflect attention from the problems that are all too real. Spreading lies and fomenting dissent, that is the mantra they live by everyday. Dissenting at the ideas of cutting a budget or project, that uselessly gives tax dollars away. Individualism is overrated, on government you must depend. If you dare to move off of the grid, you must be insane. A disease for the unwashed masses who walk around like a heard of Lemmings. Liberalism, the modern incarnation of Marxist communism.
1490

The Face in evanescence lain
Is more distinct than ours—
And ours surrendered for its sake
As Capsules are for Flower’s—
Or is it the confiding sheen
Dissenting to enamor us
Of Detriment divine?
martin challis Sep 2013
With the first awareness of morning
I sense the kind of clarity elusive
at other times of day.

She is a singular breath, formless,
offering insight into the endlessness
of something pure.

Yet she moves away as thoughts come:
those dissenting armies that ***** in
to involve me in the containment of opposites.

She will not be held in place by argument.

I long for her when she leaves.

My intention is to attend to her when I’m able.
To be the gardener who loves the flower.

That she might touch me when she will
That she might find me, often

In the gentleness of contemplation.
Alexa Sep 2012
Arcane rumblings bellow out from the infrastructure.
The secrets swell out from the wealthy infidels. Their water has broken.
The top-hat henchmen gather their whiskers.
Stuttering shock and leaking their whispers,
vulcan-loud.

The wise old casualties know all of what’s to come,
    so they pack their sacks with their old guns
    to fortify their army of one.
The news skips the billions of ignorant families
    condemning daughters and sons to an army of none.

The first bullets abandon their barrels,
    the kick-off to pain, from poise.
Eager to byte flesh, fur, faith,
    eager to make some godawful noise.
The following blasts are a metallic symphony
Quickly looming, swooning,
    booming into cacophony
                                                      in shrill-major.

Blood spatters pavement, under marching feet,
is dragged, looped about the streets in a homicide calligraphy,
paralyzing the squinting mercenaries.

Out come the canons,
              dancing on their wheels,
           silencing the gunfire,
         spinning on their heels,
     dissenting the sonata with rifle-explosion accompaniment.

Warrior sighs greet the late auxiliary:
     armadas sing in baritone
     while civilians scream soprano.
         Children cry in alto.
         Blood flows in legato.
Today some of us will die
so that the rest will open their eyes
to an oversky, cloud-bloated with lies.

While down below we blaze away our requiem.
And by the hand of this same melody we die.
Here lies humanity,
       fashioning,
       always,
    a bellicose smile.
Yenson Sep 2018
Stinking Thieves and Degenerates thus proudly declared
We will drive you paranoid, give you ******* brain cancer
We will put hot things in your head, head lice they blared
We will plant dissenting seeds in your mind by our passers
Chatter and natter with toxic germination brain  furrowed

With poisons, fears and doubts we'll polluted your mind
We are the majority and we'll recruit followers in numbers
Build a pyramid of lies and hassles to hound and down grind
One tell ten and onwards, chinese whispers makes you to wonder
Peck like vultures at your life  with harassments that's unkind

In our putrid pond, caves and gutters a Grass is what you are
Goody shiny two shoes who stays aloof thinks he's better than us
Whistle clean, no crime or stains, how pompous, how you dare
Evil and destruction is our wont, purity is anathema go you suss
We'll sling mud, blacken you, weaken you and lay you bare

Go call your Jesus to save you, see if he dares tussle with the pack
The ******* cemetery is full of Saints who we've offered free rides
Showed them the Hell we make for good people before we wack
We'll get in your head and mind and trounce your soul with hide
We are knaves, criminals and reprobates and we have the knack

Yes, we burgled and stole from you, that's our trade, what we do
We are criminals not ******* Mother Teresa saving the poor
You work hard to acquire, we work hard to acquire, isn't it so
Then you chose to grass us up, ruin our trade and shut our doors
see what happens to upright and legit, jobless, lonely and broken too.


Hahaha....hahaha.....hahaha.....next!
Brother watch out, it could be you..............
Do unto others as you want them do unto you............
Austin Heath Jun 2014
With no money in your pockets,
and a desire for a smooth ride.
Yeah, **** it... something simple.
Lust for something easy.
You speak like
anything matters;
I complain in
the opposing
direction.
Bleeding, and everyone would care
if you'd just ******* show them.
Overdriven in lifestyle,
by design without purpose.
Wearing black, but not poignantly.
Cursing because ****,
it feels so good.
Smashing whatever since
you don't own anything.
Dissenting because you can.
Maybe you'll steal **** tomorrow,
maybe you'll tell a lie.
Breathe in.
Cough, choke, turn indigo.
You're gonna do just fine.
Aaron LaLux Feb 2018
The underbelly of our collective psyche,
has been cut open from the gut and gun pokin’,
now the sadness runs rampant,
in the flooded streets of these American dreams,

see in this scene things aren’t always what they seem,
especially when viewed on a screen that’s green,

she says her father doesn’t bother to call her,
says he lives in Vegas where he lost his job,
just another unemployed American off the assembly line,
now he takes care of his mom who’s lost her mind,

gone senile from years of denial that her son is an alcoholic *******,

meanwhile resistance is still futile,

and this son of this mom is the father of the girl I’m with now,
as we lay in bed talking about trivial things instead,
of what really matters which is what we’re doing with this life,
just passing time until we’re all dead I guess,

feeling like an abstract painting of American Commentary,
a dissenting dissertation of this perverse dystopia,
don’t mention most things that are worth mentioning,
which is part of the problem that keeps repeating in amounts that’re copious,

and I’d continue with these verses and get more in depth,
but I’m being rude to the nervous girl in my bed,
so I better get off this laptop and back to that jackpot,
or rather Jill *** whatever that means I’d rather be misunderstood instead,

and that’s why I don’t mind if they don’t understand what I said,

or rather don’t understand the words that I wrote when they’re read,

because,

the underbelly of our collective psyche,
has been cut open from the gut pokin’,
now the sadness runs rampant,
in the flooded streets of this American dream,

see in this scene things aren’t always what they seem,
especially when viewed on a screen that’s green…

∆ LaLux ∆

Free link for new book: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Sean Murray Mar 2019
Only the passive, those who despise passion
To which pain needs a pillow, not an old school-yard bashing
Just feed them—with self-serving, comfort food prose
(mouths filled up, with luck, they choke or explode)
If life begs no questions, no longing—not any
You’re happy with safety? Stop reading already!

Holy hell, the stuff you chumps bring to the table
A thought
thought out loud
from someone else
you thought
you’d talk
about--

Please.

Keep your thoughts in your skull,
I hate you and your stupid quotes!
Full to the top, with no pressure to release
I can see you are struggling to even know what you need

Take You... the late—night, snuggled tight, clown of the culture
Ya’ got a whole lot of no freehand thoughts in your holster

They want to keep flaccid, your words and your soul
Every whoa that need tending to, an ace in their hole
Sht-preaching slaves, preaching sht to their slaves
They want nothing more than for you to obey

If that kind of life—if that comfort, it suits
you should stop reading this now
My sarcasm might bruise you


But if you want some dissenting words let’s let ‘em out!

Hell to the white man! Your power, your privilege is corrupt
Hell to the black lady! Loud & rude, we’ve had enough
Hell to Jew! Shrewd, cruel as you are
Hell to the hijab! Your religion is evil for sure
Hell to the rich lady! You spit on the poor
Hell to the homeless man! You’re rotten to the core
Hell to the conservative! Stupid and racist
Hell to the democrat! Naive, never complacent
Hell to the meanies!
Hell to the weak!
...hell with it…

HELL TO ALL WHO DON’T THINK LIKE I THINK!



Now if I’ve hurt your feelings, if you’re just that shook up
Don’t tattle—tell me personally
We can talk about it
Seriously, if you are offended, don't hesitate to message me.
I'm actually quite reasonable.
But first note that none of this is to be taken literally. I hold no hate for any group of people. I believe everyone has the right to speak their mind.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
These are voodoo days
When monsters have their way
With the good people alive
So the evil people can thrive.
This is a time when madness
Roams the land to pillage
And rename the boundaries
Of our fine global village.

Children once went to school
And we made sure they learned
What had happened to us all
When dissenting books were burned.
Then too many scary people
Got by with lying to us a lot.
They didn’t have us in mind,
And didn’t care what we thought.

So, their Halloween costumes seem
To only be visible to the eye
When you listen to their chants
Instead of just passing by.
If you listen closely to the words
And not just campaign speech,
You quickly see dictatorship
Is not far out of their reach.

When your friendly candidate
Starts sounding like a Mussolini
Standing up and calling them out
Does not make you a ******.
No, it makes you more of true
Patriot caring for your country
Than guys in expensive suits
Who only care about their money.
Joseph C Ogbonna Jan 2018
Africa's venerated literary
icon with words of eloquence
esoteric to the blind.
Distinguished in letters
for ages infinite.
Unparalleled in intellect,
and a gadfly of constructive
dissenting views.
Soyinka,
You are indeed a priceless
asset to the black race.
The wise grey-haired doyen
of literary geniuses,
whose ingenuity is in a century
once seen,
and in a Millennium, ten times.
Wole Soyinka, Nobel prize winner for literature(1987)
the oppressor's law
muzzles a dissenting voice
lest it speak of truth
Maxx Oct 2017
White whispers represent chains
Preventing change.
The action of
Inaction,
Perpetuating that which we
Deny.
The sun of sin shining
Dimly through
The smog of society
Seen
By the few,
Not nearly enough.
“All lives matter”
Conveniently,
Fictitious feelings for a ‘flag’
Feigning support for
Social inequalities.
Politically correct where it
Counts –
Beyond the front door,
Not behind.
News headlines turn
Silent dissenting into
Violent lamenting.
Willful ignorance is
Deliberate destruction.
The true tragedy,
Behind.
Closed.
Doors.
My experience with racism as a white male living in a gentrifying North Philadelphia neighborhood
My problem is
I want to hear what everybody thinks
And am easily swayed
By each new point of view.

All it has taken
Is one dissenting voice
And now everything seems different
And what if this view, is the right view?
I want it to be.
I want it to be.

I wish to be secure enough
To come to my own conclusions
To make my own decisions
Not to NEED these perspectives.

I must stop telling people my secrets.
Starting here
Oh.

No.
Reynard Nov 2014
Caught between dissenting polarities
Nothing written in clarity
Out of fuel
Out of thoughts
Out of luck
She was nowhere to be seen.

But I had stepped awhile aside
For a moment to myself
From the crowd jostling the railway station
And here she is gone
With the platform empty!

In that briefest time
I remember arguing with two guys
That we need to remember not everything
And they were dissenting.

Where could she have gone
My mind yelled
what if the train had arrived and left!

We were supposed to board it.

As I looked frantically around
There wasn’t a ticket counter
There was no train
There was no trace of her

When a shiver told me
The station couldn’t be this empty!

Then my fingers fell on my cell.

Oh I forgot
She was just a speed dial away.

Enveloped me a cold sweating

The platform was bare
She wasn’t there
And her cell returned no ring!


It was then two women I saw
Pulling a cart
Of trash and the station’s dirt.

Where’s the ticket room?

They smiled

I froze in fear

Ten miles from here...

my cries traveled far
woke her

*why I keep losing her!
M Mar 2014
Do not call me teacher.
Do not call me light.
I am merely a reflecting glass-
showing a broken truth, not exactly right.

Do not call me preacher.
Do not call me uptight.
I'm only a Christian,
saying gently, "Come closer, it'll be alright."

Do not call me deeper.
Do not call me inspiring.
I'm just a poor lonely girl,
this gets kind of tiring- so

Do call me loving,
Do call me trying,
call me not enough, fine, that's true
but I'm reaching towards the sky-

I really do care for You,
I gasp for You every day
but I'm limited by my ego and lack of servitude,
my God, show me Your way.

Do not call me teacher-
that's the big guy, up there
He's the magnificent beautiful creature
with magnificent beautiful hair

Who unites with the world in harmony
and knows exactly how to love
my heart aches for having forgotten Him
but He saved me with His holy dove

My world is falling in place around me
My God is tracing the path
they've tried and failed to drown me
while I was sleeping- in my own bath.

Do not call me teacher,
I might speak His words, or try
but I **** up every day.
I'm dangling to this basic, dissenting concept of 'I'.

So I'm broken and lonely
and hurting, just like y'all.
Please don't call me teacher.
That's not who I am. I'm not worthy at all.
Biviano Cortinas Jul 2016
When all art is dead,
When dissenting opinion is all but extinct,
When all the crazy people you marginalize are healed,

Who will tell you that you've died inside?
Who will shine a light in the dark corners of your mind?

Who will make you ask yourself if maybe, just maybe,
Things are not as they really are?
Israel the Failed state
It pains me to say this once I loved Israel
When she was declared a state, we're jubilant
And as Zionist said on radio the Palestinians
Can go and live in Jordan
There were few dissenting voices back then
We called them communists we call dissenters now
Then pictures of Jewish brutal repression of
The Palestine population and slowly it dawned
On us, they too needed a homeland Israel has  
Denied them and thousands have been killed
resisting this illegal occupying force.
The world is not naïve we see what is happening
this was not the survivor's dream to become oppressors.
To augment the population Israel let in Russian of
dubious Semitic origin, but they are useful in the army
killing is their second name.
Mind there are many Jews in Ethiopia, but they are black.
Poor Israel they stole a state they could live in without
insisting on Judaism as the only faith
It is all too sad it could have been a place of olive trees
and goats with the sun in their eyes.
Michael Marchese Jun 2022
But what’s there to be
In this ruinous Union
Delusional dreaming
Condition subhuman
Expected to serve
Undeserving
Indulgence
And deify wealth
In submissive exultance
Repulsed by its decadence
Still can’t resist
The acquisitive urge
To of status consist
When I move into
Home ownership
And foreclose
On the anti-establishment
Questions I pose
For convenience secured
And insured
Is the move
That they want you to take
To consent
And approve
To whoever they put
On the stage’s
Charade
To persuade us
To trust
Fund another crusade
Writing down the names 
of the silence-breakers in the class, 
I got them lashed well; 
Never failed to put my hand on my mouth 
Wherever I saw the instruction ‘Keep Silence'; 
Learned to be disciplined on the admonition ‘don't make noise'; 
Heard many a time the talk ‘Chatterers and Patriotism'; 
Hung on the wall the pictures of those 
who ordered ‘hold your tongue and do work'; 
Practiced regularly special yoga for taming the tongue, 
And got habituated to vow of silence. 
Now my tongue owns the endurance of saying nothing 
On seeing or hearing anything. 
I haven't wasted even a single opportunity to escape 
With the adornment of silence. 
I live in total silence excelling the dumb 
Now life is perfectly happy. 
The fear of assaulting those with dissenting voices 
No longer affects me. 
The only discomfort is this: 
An uncooked piece of flesh lies across my mouth, 
Unable to spit out or swallow. 

Poem by Veerankutty mhfil
Translated from Malayalam.
Io Dec 2020
Burn those feelings
Burn them in fire
Yet my dissenting voices
Grow only louder on the pyre
Moonsocket Mar 2017
You mimic a monstrosity
Your disposition runs like ink

These ticks become habitual
These prisons become virtual
These masks become complete

Images designated for dissection

New found suits for dissenting

Legends in lethargy and memory high hysterics

Neatly astute for the sake of navigation

They mingle like limbo inside brickwork bunkers

The embodiment of human discernment

Madness makes moves

I see the eyes reassemble for nonsense

You steal my time for a story we have already forgotten

I brace because my jaws are acutely inclined for folly

I try to resemble accommodation but fall short like the gods intended

I hear their laughter

but its my own obscure orchestration

Yours are not mine but I shatter with the rest

My favorite parasite
My favorite sanctuary

I love you all inside this room soaked sickly

Indifferent and discarded

Now and again we find the time for creation

Spring loaded sky stuck symptoms

Trampoline tactics for these less buoyant patrons

We figure the fabrications come complete

Declare another dysfunction
Society breaks the hesitant

Hold the moments hostage like so much decoration

Happier times splattered while a perfect storm swells

Satirical strings attached for an elusive heaven

I now know the we that became you
Austin Bauer Jun 2016
His lawn must've held back its lunch
When he drove those signs
Deep into the soil;
Crushing little blades, 
Cutting roots, and displacing 
Perfectly placed earth.
Likewise, I had to hold back 
My breakfast this morning 
When I had dissenting opinions 
Driven into me;
Cutting through my skin into
My heart, making my palms sweat
And my stomach drop.
Megan Sherman Nov 2016
My friend you are a feral angel
A rebellion on wings
Instead of staying square in rank
You'd rather go rioting round Saturn’s rings
For lack of God you are nonetheless guide
By love’s sweet, simple philosophy
By its exquisite ethos you abide
You live most impossibly
Once an evangelist for heaven
You one day peered beyond
On Earth you saw so much potential
Of Earth you grew quite fond
So you exit God’s jurisdiction
Dissenting from one law divine
The disapproval might thunder
But you’ve long already transgressed the line
Teach me how to disobey
To fathom love and soar angelic
I’m convinced you have a better way
May forever feral angels frolic
Bob B Oct 2016
"We’d like you to join our amazing group.
Though some might call us a cult, we're not.
We don't resort to brainwashing. No,
We don't try to control each thought.
 
"We just teach you the right way to think;
We teach you how to "choose" your words,
How to act, and how to feel.
Critical thinking is for the birds.
 
"Therefore, you won't have to wonder
What is right and what is wrong here.
Since questioning, doubting, and dissenting confuse you,
Let's just say that they don't belong here.
 
"Our way, you'll find, is the ONLY path
To free you from a world of grief.
Once you cut ties with skeptics, your
Zealous commitment will give you relief.
 
"People out there curse and belittle us.
That doesn’t faze us, for they don’t see
That we are right and they are lost.
It’s all so clear. Don’t you agree?
 
"The blessed teachings that we employ
Have nothing at all to do with guilt.
Instead, we call it 'forming your conscience.'
Obey and we’ll back you to the hilt.
 
"Fear is a focus for cults out there.
Their tactics frighten, coerce, and demean.
With us you will find safety and security--
At least if you can prove you've come clean.
 
"If your friends and family don't join you,
Don't worry: you've got family with us.
Forget the others; you don't need them.
Lamenting their loss is not worth the fuss.
 
"Imagine how much honor you'll have
Recruiting new members to join our community.
You'll jump at the chance to share your path
To salvation at every opportunity.
 
"Your total allegiance, of course, is expected.
We can't imagine you'd try to deceive us.
One thing we can guarantee:
You'll never--EVER--want to leave us."

- by Bob B
Sound familiar?
Prathipa Nair Oct 2016
Tears rolling down when my beloved,the sun in red disappearing leaving me in solitude
Languidly peeping through windows where I am being kept in house arrest
Clouds with dissenting voice being a hindrance protesting against our love
Conversing through eyes with a last look broke my heart into thousand pieces of sparks
My love taken to the cage of clouds filling my life with darkness
Oh Moon! By no means can conquer my heart to love
Let darkness drown me to death I am immortally my love's light !
Tony Luxton Jan 2017
They say you should own change,
one of our few possessions,
having to pay for the past,
though changes never last.

It's said its as good as a rest,
but don't we fear some changes.
Who benefits is the test,
and who looses history erases.

So they're always taking away.
We're ren ting, repenting the present,
dissenting form changes and loss,
for loss is a change, as we pay.
If your preconceived notions were always absolutely correct,
without any chance for debate or dissenting views,
you'd be God; and God doesn't exist.
So: get over yourself.
Andrew Duggan Aug 2017
Can you save me from the man I tend to be?
The spirit of the Thälmann Battalion is in my soul
Reading the radical poets
And having conversations with myself.

Can you save me from the man I tend to be?
I listen to Billy Bragg and dream of  a ‘New England’
Dennis Skinner is a hero.
All that is left of the English radical dissenting left.

Can you save me from the man I tend to be?
Fear provokes anxiety and silence.
Never can I do without thinking.
Or creating intuitive minds

Can you save me from the man I tend to be?
Seeing consent manufactured day-by-day
Conversations with Noam Chomsky
On violations of authority.

Do I need saving from the man I tend to be?’
I wish you all
most pleasant days
   no matter what the virus says

and thank you
for your kind support
     now over several years
of my assorted verse
which can at times be very terse
and maybe disappoint your expectations

it's just that recently more often
    instead that politicians soften
    their people's usual competing claims
there come these guy who obviously aim
to sow divisiveness for their own good
      something no politician should
and then blame others for their oversights

such blatant attitude my ire lights
I then may harshly
     maybe unpoetically
let my opinion on the topic fly
'cause I believe
that poets should be anything but shy
and throw the power of their words
behind good causes

so far, dissenting voices have been few
discussions I enjoy  and always do
engage in them if the exchange of views
strolls not too far from fact-based arguments

And between all the daily politics
I often try to stop the ticks
that measure calculable time
try to find words for things sublime
that go beyond the noises of the day
find meaning not in what
     but how they speak
in vivid images try to present
     life's clearing moments
that may lead readers to some peaks
     of insight  provoke comments
or make them think outside
     their usual frame of mind  
reflect upon their role within mankind

if I can work such wonders with my words
I am content and know
my lines are not just for the birds

I wish for us
the year twothousandtwentyone
fulfill at least some of the expectations
we all have  
           secretly or not
  after the lousiest year of our life
           to put it mildly

as a colleague from India
recently put it in his Christmas greetings

      think positive, test negative

A better New Year to you all
reach to the skies, avoid to fall !!
Ikimi Festus Jan 2023
Have you ever noticed the shifting of words?
Greetings, what say you from yonder place?
Our words seem tainted, decaying, toxic to me.
Curiously, they still gleam and resonate on the surface,
Yet do you fathom their quandary?
"They lack all significance, meaning naught.
Witness it for yourself.

From a scientific stance,
Humans fashioned words to expand the realm of knowledge,
Now known as information, a shared bounty.
But behold the transformation...

As darkness fell, and men slumbered beneath shared stars,
War erupted, coercing us to buy dubious wares,
In exchange for a false promise of peace, Hughes deemed a friend,
To escape condemnation, death or prison, for dissenting views,
Once taboo in bygone days.

Generations passed, civilizations rose and crumbled,
Yet one truth remains amidst this eternal dance,
Forgotten is the words' power to inspire fear,
Instead, they become mute pages, hushing silence.

Do you remember consuming those ceaseless warnings?
How could I forget the myriad of prohibitions?
Reiterated by parents, society, teachers, priests,
Till their words turned meaningless babble,
Thankfully coated in apologies, "I'll never do it again,"
Though never intending to in the first place,
Yet they sowed seeds of sinister thoughts within my shadows.

We all proclaimed, "In five minutes," or "Tomorrow I'll start," or
"This time, I'll never be late for..."
Mere piles of reeking ******* they truly are.
How did we reach a juncture where words lost their essence?
Reducing the world to a brothel, a circus, bereft of meaning.

Alas, the mightiest declarations endure the test of time.
Honesty, Justice, and the Truth.
"That all may honor the Son as they do the Father.
He who disrespects the Son, disrespects the Father who sent him."
Ironically, such words have unsettled men for centuries,
Though once uttered with genuine intent.
And who rendered them void?
Politicians, lawyers, professionals, advertisers,
All who employ words as tools, and we with our posts and likes,
Craving more likes,
Fueling the fire with greater fervor,
More love, more laughter, more, more, more,
On the obnoxious host, like...

Do you grasp the meaning of "fast"?
Similar to "pray and fast,"
Fast!
To seal, confine, shut away, that is its core.
To observe weeks of silence, refraining from speech.
Sadly, our oral sphincter shall not comply,
Yet closure is within reach.

Do you truly seek to infuse your life with new purpose?
Fresh words?
Then embrace silence for seven, or better yet, twenty-one days,
Abstaining from discourse entirely,
Not even a whisper, eschewing
Social media, tranquil and attuned to self,
Embracing the vast expanse of emotions when the month remains unsoiled.
Only then shall wonders befall... and
Unlock the tapestry of thoughts and mysteries within your mind.
Rajib Ahmed Mar 2019
Heads, Heads,
I want Heads,
Smiling Heads, handshaking Heads,
Heads full of dung,
Heads hiding tons
Heads that are scheming
Always overseeing
Heads that love licking
Otherwise it's aching
Heads making deals
After the kills
Heads who think sharp
Their sycophants clap
Heads making tails
Heads growing nails
Heads, Heads,
I want...

often you see them
Making headlines
'working' for people
and killing at night
they are all smiling
but covertly thriving
apt in hard-quashing
any dissenting voices!

they speak of rights,
they talk of justice
they air confidence
they paint rosy future
you think 'His excellence,
is irreplaceably nice.'
that's exactly the thing
they'd like to spread
while they conspire and devise

Heads, Heads...
Smiling Heads,
Heads with headgears
Heads with less hair
Heads with a cap
Heads full of crap
they come in varieties
in suits or saris
all of them are honey-tongued
with daggers under their arms
they are the looters
they fear no other
except the roars
of united men.

when the men assemble
their thorns tremble
and finally they pay
with heads that were gay
I want those Heads
it's time for Heads
enough of waiting
it's so frustrating
it's time for Heads

We need to chop
        those
                heads
                         off

chopped Heads
Head chops
chopped heads
Head chops

I want heads
warring Heads
plotting Heads
lying Heads
looting Heads
corrupting Heads

Heads, Heads,
those rotten Heads
I want them chopped
I want them Heads.
Tony Luxton Apr 2020
Competing for chores, staying indoors,
rationing fresh air, the lonely despair,
managing the food stocks, watching the clocks,
we're in it together, inhumane tether.

News depressiing, rigid rules,
people are dying, NHS trying,
carting them off, telltale dry cough,
too many dangerous, dissenting fools.
Good luck and best wishes to everyone.

Tont Luxton
Norbert Tasev Sep 2020
Leaves tremble in the wind. Autumn carries its golden chains as leaf scales: Who else knows for how long? hawthorns also tremble in the evergreen shelters of mosses. Even the round cheese continent is freezing in the sky. Dogs are courting howling, poisoning - the summer glow disappeared suddenly! The nose, like a chimney vomiting crimson rhinitis, is swollen and is still dripping with its still unpleasant, killer juices!

An entire week of bed exercise was in vain once the smelt of immunity had weakened. The unbridled wind brings its October heifers with a rebellious whiplash, and in a thickening, milky white mist it is placed on unknown faces in a large arc and firmly despair! "A horse chestnut ponders alone in the craters of forgotten puddles!"

I cherished tears and spike pains in my heart while others betrayed me! And like something secretly raging Goliath, who had never digested it once to be defeated, demands with impatient thirst for revenge and shakes the falling skirts of the trees of the season!

Even the kind UVB sun gets sick so he doesn’t have to heal, handing over his terrain to twilight flashes. As the net proliferates tendrils patiently nail my nails at night! And as the play of the clouds is unruly and amazed, I am sure that the number of troubles and dissenting opinions is multiplied, that while someone else is given a happy, family life:

To me: Why wasn't it good, happy, honest, and true ?! “Tired, I leaned on the heart-hill of my pillow, imagining the Truth even the real one — that we couldn’t be side by side how simple and unstable!

— The End —