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Lucy Tonic Nov 2012
I am money changing hands-
Insignificant and ubiquitous
Imbibed as oxygen
Spit out like old chewing gum
I am the tree that never grows leaves-
Alone but surrounded
Decrepit states of being
Amid tiny sparks of youth
I am a child’s heart-
Intelligent and delicate
Fathoming the depths
Of the outside world
I am detached-
Bought and sold
Young and old
A victim of doublethink
False prophets, you dig our graves with sinister divinations,
Bestow unrepentant indignation, and neglect to hide your shallowness.
Cast condescending shadows from high upon your sanctimonious mount, but
We wear our pride; our faith and love, our shrouds, and we will not be buried in the night.
Oh, I say woe unto them that call evil good and substitute darkness for light.
Oh, weary we may be, but forsaken we are not. Tread lightly when with lust and greed you choose to cast your lots.
Written for First Baptist Church of Worcester Poetry Fest Challenge 1: Acrostic – FBCWOO.
Bob B Aug 2018
THEY will have the final word.
Believe what the PARTY says is true.
Even Facecrime gives you away,
For BIG BROTHER is watching you.

Honesty? Bah, such nonsense!
Loyalty is what must sell.
State-spread rumors incite the mob
In your bleak, dystopian hell.

Reject evidence of eyes and ears.
That's what THEY say. Watch how hate
Turns the unquestioning supporter
Against the enemies of the state.

The Goodthinkful, unaware
How language affects their thoughts and behavior,
Show how ignorance is strength
And lavish praise upon their savior.

Manipulating public opinion,
THEY know well-spread lies will last,
For that's how THEY'LL control the future,
And that's how THEY control the past.

Doublethink is what THEY call it:
The clever art of reality control.
Ignorance is strength, THEY tell you.
Controlled insanity is THEIR goal.

The more powerful THEY become,
The less THEY prove to be your friend.
It's NOT about what's good for the people.
Power is NOT a means but an end.

War is declared on language and memory.
Inconvenient facts are rejected.
Science is reviled, and THEY
Discredit people once respected.

Doublespeak narrows the range of thought.
By caving in you might survive.
Two and two make four, but sometimes
THEY'LL say that two and two make five.

Opinions are not tolerated.
Protective stupidity: that's THEIR plan.
You think THEY can't control your thoughts,
But, oh, THEY can. THEY really can.

Do you look at your screen, or does
Your screen look at you? Or Both?
Do you know how much THEY know
Or if THEY know you've kept your oath?

Who's the next to be vaporized?
Who's the next to become an unperson?
As long as THEY control your "thinking,"
Everything can only worsen.

If only to awaken from the nightmare
Where truth becomes a likelihood
And we retain humanity!
Wouldn't that be "doubleplusgood"?

-by Bob B (8-30-18)
John H Maloney May 2013
But then again, it's hard to tell.
It might, but maybe not. Oh well.
I think it could be ... tough to say.
Just too many shades of gray
and far too much uncertainty
in any possibility
that I just don't know what to do.
I think I'll have to think it through.
Karl Oct 2014
I wanted a metamorphosis
To accumulate until my meager brightness
Became supergiant

I wanted to burn brightest and biggest
Subduing galaxies with my gravity

I wanted reflections of my light
To echo through the void

I wanted to grow in blindness
Of my monstrosity until
After millions of years
I could collapse
Into the blackness of singularity
That I might wait patiently for the day
I would be scattered throughout eternity
In a moment of unfathomable
Destruction
Aeolis Est Mar 2013
we repeat the past
a false future forged anew
1984
Adele Nov 2017
I can hear them. There is not one, but might be hundreds of them lurking behind these rickety wood walls.

He is watching. The party has always been watching. I can control my thoughts. Cogito ergo sum. This is my world, no one can touch me. These are my thoughts, my heart beats for what is good for me. My hands scrawling, my brain is just scribbling.

Yet, I’ve known from the start that I am a dead man.

I didn’t commit adultery, I followed them. I am alive, I can feel my heart racing. My blood all over my body... reminds me why I’m here. To survive and live, yet I am still a dead man.

I am no mute, but I can’t speak. While writing this I can picture my hands and feet with shackles, wounds of torture. I’ve been always a dead man.

The prole doesn’t know. They need to know. They should stop listening or watching the telescreen. They should strive to dig the Oldspeak.

Oh, right. Who dares to doublethink against a totalitarian regime anyway?

The guns are always on their hands. The war is always going. It’s always here. The past... is always here. We don’t see it, but it’s here! There’s nowhere to run or hide, the world tried.

I will be the next unperson, vaporising in the history of Oceania. They won’t remember. They’ll try not to remember. We are a nobody. Winston was right. I can feel the boot stamping on my face. This is the future.

My voice... is a thought crime, will never be accepted in this society.

I am a dead man.

I am ready... the Thought Police has been always watching me. The INGSOC. Big Brother. I will never love him!

But I am ready to be trap in the place where there is no darkness. I am ready... for the Ministry of Love.

I won’t ever, ever love Big Brother!

I do not care, for I am already a dead man!
GLOSSARY OF TERMS

• Big Brother- the face of the Party, the leader behind the great power. The best part is that we never come to confirm his actual existence. He might not even be real. Maybe the Party just hired an intimidating-looking male model to make those posters. The face of the Party, Big Brother acts as reassurance and a trustworthy entity for many (his name is warm and fuzzywarm and fuzzy and easy to embrace). Yet, he is also your biggest enemy and threat – if you are one of the criminals (he is watching your every move).

• Cogito ergo sum- Renee Descartes, the famous philosopher, used that to prove his own existence. It literally means, "I think; therefore, I am." He claimed that his ability to form thoughts made him a real, living, human being.


• Doublethink- the acceptance of two contradictory ideas or beliefs at the same time.

• INGSOC- "Ingsoc" means "English Socialism." The "Ing-" is based on the pronunciation of "English" and "-soc" on "socialism."


• Oceania - The super state in which protagonist Winston Smith dwells. It is believed to be composed of the Americas, the British Isles (called "Airstrip One" in the novel), Iceland, Australia, New Zealand, Polynesia, and Southern Africa below the River Congo.

• Ministry of Love- The Ministry of Love (or Miniluv in Newspeak) serves as Oceania's interior ministry. It enforces loyalty to Big Brother through fear, buttressed through a massive apparatus of security and repression, as well as systematic brainwashing


• Oldspeak- normal English usage as opposed to technical or propagandist language


• Prole- a shortening of the word proletarian, a term for the working class.

• Telescreen- a wall-mounted electronic device that doubles as a television and a surveillance camera. Used by the Thought Police to monitor the citizens.


• Thoughtcrime- even more serious offense than committing an actual crime: It's the act of thinking about committing a crime. You have thoughts that conflict with the Party line, like thinking "Big Brother is ungood.”

• Thought Police- a group of people with totalitarian views on a given subject, who constantly monitor others for any deviation from prescribed thinking

• Unperson- someone who has been vaporized. Vaporization is when a person is secretly murdered and erased from society, the present, the universe, and existence. Such a person would be taken out of books, photographs, and articles so that no trace of them is found in the present anywhere – no record of them would be found.


• Winston Smith- a fictional character and the protagonist of George Orwell's 1949 novel Nineteen Eighty-Four.

-INSPIRED BY GEORGE ORWELL’s 1984-

(a life-changing recommended read)
Andre Baez Feb 2014
Today I woke up and saw blood run down my nose,
The wetness shocked me like water from a hose,
As I searched myself I came across many lines,
Far more than a person my age should have designed,
Upon my canvas also lies a bit of weight,
Not enough for muscles just enough to be in shape,
My entire body is covered in a throw of fur,
Mentally I could never give into shaving, it's absurd,
Why should I change the Lords work?
My moms work, my pops work, it's what I'm worth,
Physically, I'm far from a perfect being,
But, who can seriously claim to be perfect, see
A crease from furrowed brows and tough thoughts,
Is what's needed for many to eventually get across,
The bridge that holds our destiny,
If we're true to ourselves then soon we'll see,
That each one of us is one of the worlds instruments,
A tool to be used in whatever way to represent,
The total collectiveness of our spirit,
The human spirit and the lives that go near it,
Social justifications for monstrous actions,
Aren't enough to give any sense of satisfaction,
The mind is only of a single individual,
As such the thoughts of others and their ridicule,
Is not enough to influence a movement or a truth,
An idea can spread contagions to the youth,
Through them and so on the ways get passed on,
Thrown out are false ideas and politicians who were lax on,
The middle and under man and their predicaments,
**** their lack of care, we are Gods fingerprints,
For whom the bells toll, hands fly up and grab,
Our faces by the cheeks and together we will laugh,
Because a world of unity comes after the stage fright,
Look at the anonymous who fight each day and each night,
The wordless texts written on marketing magazines,
The muted audio coming from blanketed screens,
A voiceless march on solders of love,
A war on peace will flare out in blood,
The thin red line that traces arches outside of my nose,
It works it's way left then right, to and fro,
A painting on the working canvas of my soul,
Colors swirling and mixing just outside the window,
Lies potential waiting to be tapped,
Along with my own, it's the wane to be attacked,
Through ambivalent works we are attached,
Malevolent words are weakness in the face of intelligence, wrath.

Wrath is the enemy of the dreams we have earned,
The dreams that have been worked for, burned for and yearned for,
Oh Lord, the chore is hard to absorb,
Which is why more is to be given,
For more are willing, to lend themselves to the cause of children,
And old men and women, trapped in prisons and similar buildings, Westboro baptist churches and terrorist organizations,
Government agents, with Wes Craven woven situations,
A nightmare is on Elm street, and your street and my street,
Even if you don't see it, you can hear it,
The gunshots may not ring off near your house,
But the ambulance goes past your house to the ER in clouds,
And out of your mouth comes "I hope they're fine, wow."
But in truth it's a passing moment in your own life, wow.

Just like that, it's the fragility of things,
A bird of Hermes eating it's own wings,
Reality based upon countless simplicities,
Recipes are made from human soliloquies,
Stories passed down ****** and through ink,
Written tales of woe and tales of victory,
Strategies to make the mind seek peace,
In mournful situations where bodies reek,
Media slavery and private prison sceneries,
Are overbearing distortions of American Dreams,
Big Brother is only a few decades from being,
Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasian countries,
Are already practicing a form of doublethink,
Freedom of thought is the freedom of newspeak,
Guy Fawkes, wake up kids, nothing is as it seems,
The revolution is now and forever recurring.
will Jun 2019
Everyone has something
that makes them doublethink
when they're standing
at the railroad crossing
Inspired by the song "Dear" by Cavetown.
F White Jan 2015
Prince of Shapes-
oh you hurtful
mystery,
living an illusion

flipped me around til my feet
were pointing up

closed off in doublethink how
on earth did I ever fall so...
Copyright fhw, 2015
Andrew Rueter Jun 2020
The pathetic get pedantic
with thoughts mostly planted
the world they misunderstand it
yet there’s still discourse demanded
so they take terminology and brand it
as whatever they need to stand fit
and begin digging us into the **** ditch
of their messy rhetorical **** sandwich.

They use the term doublethink
as a subtle wink
to how they’re dumb and stink
on a drug that sinks.

They use echo chamber
to dismiss with anger
the opinions of strangers
for perceived danger.

Anything they don’t like is virtue signaling
it’s my Aunt Gertrude’s symphony
to construe simply
the spider’s spindling.

They call others thought police
while they have a lot to preach
because they want a monopoly
over what the public got to see.

They use the term hivemind
to deny why
the other side cries
saying they want a prize
for parroting the right thing
they avoid the scorpion’s sting
by diminishing and destructing
the other’s mind as nothing.

All of these terms have their place
yet we use them to race
to arguments lacking grace
putting palm to face
to bomb the brakes
of the train that takes
us to a lane of fake
******* banter waste.
Arlene Corwin Nov 2017
I Can Write But I Can’t Speak

I can write but I can’t speak.
It’s as if God says,
“You have a message.  Write the words.
I’ll give written words a glaze,
But eloquence that can be heard’s
Off limits, for I slow you down
For honesty, integrity:
To **** the vanity you’ve sown.
I’ll make you stumble, clumsy, dumb,
Slow-thinking, witless,
Sounding somewhat girlish.
I’ve obscured your verbal self
So that you can’t impress.
I keep you in the house
So you must guess
What is and what is not success.

Left there to stammer,
Lose my language;
Syntax, grammar
In a sandwich
Of aphasic doublethink,
The phrases weak,
Technique oblique,
My karma manifestly leaking,
Left to do my dharmic seeking,
(Swim or sink)
Through scribbled, scratched and silent ink.

I Can Write But I Can’t Speak 2.11.2003
The quest for self's dharma as been solved.
Makenzie Marie Feb 2019
When you whisper to me
The word “forever,”
My heart melts
And still races, somehow—
Doublethink.
And I agree,
Forever sounds perfect to me.
VanillinVillain Dec 2020
A wall of doublethink
denies my hands,
wrapped and bound
by wordy chains
I bend to their demands.
Look; the questions on my knuckles,
phrases down my fingers.
These second-thoughts like shining buckles,
locked tight; words left to linger.
In haunted glass I watch your decent,
unable to reach out;
wishing words could extricate,
but gagged am I by cruel doubt.
CautiousRain Nov 2021
Every time I push people away,
I wait for the door to rat-a-tat-tat
and revolve back into my face;
I had never considered how often I steal opportunities away from myself by running.

I run until I collapse,
and I've stolen compassion, and understanding with every half-sprint I take away from everyone that has ever cared for me,
because what do you do when they genuinely love you?

I don't know why it is so hard to believe that they could love me,
or that I am not wasting their time by asking for help,
but I know that I live in this doublethink,
where I both love myself, but no one else could possibly love me too.

Haven't you seen me like this before?
I'm on the brink of understanding
I have a difficult time loving myself in actions, just in theories in my head.
This is why I run like this,
and by constantly shielding myself from perceived danger,
I am actually blocking potential kindness too.

If I shut off the danger and the kindness, what will I have left for myself? Nothing.
I can't keep doing this,
I am going to have to let them in.
Running away and getting nothing for it- time for self-reflection
Kimberly Eyers Feb 2017
We all do it.
Videos.
Either it's massive *** organs and bad acting
to hilarious music.
Or it's baby armadillos being tickled.

For me today, it was the glossy pages
Of National Geographic
depicting beautiful, fragile ocean life.
Everything was as it should be in the tiny reserves.

Or was it? Doublethink asked.
Were there really no plastic bags floating by?

The miracle of life
Is so addictive.
But the synthetic version,
In two dimensions on your screen
Or the shiny pages of my magazine

Is no replacement
For the intimacy, reality, or
beauty
that overcomes
without filters.
Bob B Feb 2019
He rode into town like a wannabe--
The town we'll simply call D.C.--
And sat back with his feet upon the desk.
He brought his team--a ruthless bunch,
Most of whom are out to lunch
And operate in a manner quite grotesque.

Yep, a real phenomenon--
This man known as Teflon Don…

It didn't take long for him
To know he had to sink or swim
And this guy was determined not to sink.
Confuse and befuddle, he said,
And that's how he would get ahead:
By practicing the art of doublethink.

Yep, a real phenomenon--
This man known as Teflon Don…

Undo progress done before,
Defy the critics keeping score,
And do not worry if you sound uncouth.
Such was the man's M.O.
To win he knew he must let go
Of any close connection with the truth.

Yep, a real phenomenon--
This man known as Teflon Don…

Trusting not his experts here,
He let Putin have his ear,
And yet his fans never seemed to mind.
He could do no wrong, they felt.
Such is how the cards were dealt.
And how they hate it when their man's maligned!

Yep, a real phenomenon--
This man known as Teflon Don…

He can lie, cheat, and steal,
Come on strong and cop a feel,
And some say even get away with killing.
And yet his fans will all bow down
And do obeisance to their clown,
Which others find incredibly blood chilling.

Yep, a real phenomenon--
This man known as Teflon Don…

-by Bob B (2-26-19)
Dire straits necessitated
yours truly to bethink
outside the box (literally outdoors
of squarish structured nested dwelling),
where blinding albedo effect
forced me to blink,
additionally also ruffled tail feathers

of this sole surviving male bobolink
(North American songbird,
Dolichonyx oryzivorus)
pushing survival species
to extinction brink,
thus series of unfortunate events
woke resident chewink
(North American bird,

Pipilo erythrophthalmus
also called: towhee
or ground-robin),
tweeted from within
his cozy armoire *****
polar vortex froze habitat,
whereby arctic wind found
brushy areas to clink

unwittingly brambles ferocious
waving circular rotation
wrought minuscule countersink
eh, no bigger than a cufflink
his ornate bejeweled complex edifice
compliments of sizable income
allowed, enabled, and provided
opportunity in tandem

with significant other
to create acronym named ****
(dual income without kid)
acquiring handsome combined income
rendering and selling stylized goldfinch
also known as distelfink
common motif in
hex signs and fraktur,

which interpretive native folk art
eye state meaningless
without rhyme nor reason,
superfluous gibberish by George,
and/or...well... courtesy
following more purposeless gobbledygook
defying poetaster to incorporate doublethink
intelligently nsync with downlink

playfully, jauntily, and deliberately
creating confounding badinage eyewink
at thee, no doubt many
an anonymous innocent
reader calling me ratfink
under their breath or more
colorful brutal appellation
inducing cheeks of unknown followers
turning fifty plus shades of firepink

moost definitely concurring gink
perfectly apropos description
concluded individually versus
collectively, quickly, and
unanimously i.e. (think) groupthink
I approve this entire message, which
most likely tinders pet peeve,
concluding GoDaddy liberally did hoodwink.
Yenson Feb 2023
From the covens of whitening shame
in shame upon shame upon shame
contemptible mired in contempt upon contempt
upon contempt

hiding in broad red sunset of blood red infamy
they huddle in red puddles to muddle in unison
these infernal leagues in fevered infamy
see them in profanity
in tattered minds and doublethink
they titter and witter in gormless chatter
and how they cry and decry

and in whimpering roars they bend to stand
snorting and snarling they tremble and shake to twist
prancing in baleful hackneyed discontents
incumbent in the ambiguities of green-eyed visionaries
gnawing hungrily at the banquets of inefficacy by inadequacies
ravaged by inherent bloodlust the vile nihilists
in shameless nakedness walks in crippled strides

cowards cowed only can only see threats
envy's palaces are hatred intimidation and destruction
a striking Noire in sight to be struck in strikes and strife
its carte blanche privilege
its the privilege of renaissance knuckle-draggers
its peasants' privilege to make the sublime into the ridiculous

Hail Caesar The Supremacist
The Tribune holds the best and fittest moors are put in the Arena
And fed to the Three Lions
In unison we stand
Rome dost spake in Plato's Athenians democracy
It is a privilege



https://www.tiktok.com/@kingchlsy/video/7188572829397290282?isfromwebapp=1&senderdevice=pc&webid=7201066011432748550
Apparently and unbeknown to me, its quite alright to steal from your neighbour if you're working class and from a majority racial class.  And if one dares protest one would find out what esprit de corps means in working class parlance, Its all about privileges, 'know wot I mean, matey' nudge, nudge, wink, wink!!.

— The End —