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"fasces" poems
The fasces in my heart calls for those, who would poison the earth beneath me, who would sully our blood and the blood , that God himself did give who would call off the hunt, that my father and fathers before me partook, who would make that grand wolf a sheep, who would try and satiate what we know is true, who would try to commit nature's crime, who would make things inequal, equal. To those who have been called, we come for you.
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
American Blackshirt
Cheers from inside the catacombs of just-alive vagabonds & miscreant self-delusions of sagacious sabotage & pyrrhic moonscapes, brandishing our eternal return a tabula rasa for respect & character - bottoms up, too. Mona Lisa Shroud of Turin, ******* on a trunk. Gamble 66 for trays, dealing steam carrots. Gag reflex to polite televangelists giving viewers auspicious immunity. Habits cede to Power, acquiesce to Power, love power. Peculiarity can recognize & organize to displace. Something suspicious may run amok , antithetical to the divide & conquer trite. Defeating paragons, i , Plumed Serpent of release & capture beats, borrowing color from a skylark in forever-flight, conjure remedial winds Guide inimical bows subsumed in a cosmo-prole dew against the fasces of a few.
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Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 10:20 PM UTC
So many firsts, yellow jailbird.
It seems the battle now has passed me by. I walk unhindered on the ****** beach. I cannot hear the screams of shot and shell. I am immune and quite beyond their reach. Some men I knew deploy a Bangalore And blow a hole in Hitler’s grand defense. Machine guns sputter but I heed them not. For me the battle has lost all suspense. My kit and rifle are light upon my back. My rage is spent; I lack the urge to **** There are others who make up my lack Here there’s blood in buckets to be spilled. I meet a German, sitting on a rock. His tunic bloodied there about his heart He offers me a smoke and I accept, Although I’ve heard that smoking isn’t smart.. We speak and somehow understand each other As we watch our younger brothers play at war. He apologized for his part in my ****** I assure him that I’m not the least bit sore. He asks if I’ve brought coins for the boatman. I fish through my pockets and come up with dimes With images of Mercury on the obverse, rods and Fasces on the other side.
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Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 10:22 PM UTC
On Omaha Beach
Starve fasces-brandishers who predicate Authority from appetite to lead. Uproot the system bred to overfeed Flush priests of law whose acts emaciate The restive body of we third estate, Condemning propaganda of the deed By terrorists like Johnny Appleseed. We must invoke our right to eat the state. Roast those who'd charge an honest cannibal For planting liberal teachings to displace The syndicate, and share economy. Fire up the cult of the imperial And ration insurrectionary grace Ample for all to feast on anarchy.
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Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Sonnet no. 3
#Brother and Sister Citizens: Our fatherland consolidates. Let us salute, as One, our terrible destiny, lately manifest as the gathering force of an orange sun now glowing, after eight years of lightless gloom. Now we shine, now we merge our individuality in one to discover our collective future in Trump. As one wave of Greatness we now stride over the ruins of Hope & Change, into the American Restoration. Let us, each one, offer a straight stick of noble hardwood for the mass. Donald our axehead is now tightly bound with us in a shared sacred duty, projecting his keen edge from the national bundle. Let us, together, grow tired of winning until all worthless cancerous cells are neutralized and disposed of. All that is not full of the Will to Greatness must perish before us. Clad in the shining raiment of victory let us serve with American fervor our new leader. Women, mothers and nurturers of the mystic rebirth are welcome in our new nation. Sweep away the cobwebs of the old weakness, hail the conquering hero, he who fearlessly bears the Roman fasces into the courtroom as judge, jury, and executioner. Let the cities and nations of unbelief tremble and plead for mercy. Poems shall be composed as bridges are built to span the years. Stanzas shall spontaneously fall into place and march with military precision. Every capital line shall converge upon our captain. Hail the crown of Donald T. Hail the mighty orange flame Hail the age's consummation (Voters have themselves to blame) TRUMP shall smash the global Hydra TRUMP shall avenge our national shame. TRUMP shall restore our families' honor; CONQUER (in his deplorable name) ! Captain TRUMP, the cord that binds TRUMP the axe-head and the judge. Leader DONALD, light that blinds. Our final King: let none begrudge. LOVE UNDER WILL ☻ ! (was that fascistic enough 4 U ?)
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
Bind, Oh Bind the Fasces' Bundle
#Brother and Sister Citizens: Our fatherland consolidates. Let us salute, as One, our terrible destiny, lately manifest as the gathering force of an orange sun now glowing, after eight years of lightless gloom. Now we shine, now we merge our individuality in one to discover our collective future in Trump. As one wave of Greatness we now stride over the ruins of Hope & Change, into the American Restoration. Let us, each one, offer a straight stick of noble hardwood for the mass. Donald our axehead is now tightly bound with us in a shared sacred duty, projecting his keen edge from the national bundle. Let us, together, grow tired of winning until all worthless cancerous cells are neutralized and disposed of. All that is not full of the Will to Greatness must perish before us. Clad in the shining raiment of victory let us serve with American fervor our new leader. Women, mothers and nurturers of the mystic rebirth are welcome in our new nation. Sweep away the cobwebs of the old weakness, hail the conquering hero, he who fearlessly bears the Roman fasces into the courtroom as judge, jury, and executioner. Let the cities and nations of unbelief tremble and plead for mercy. Poems shall be composed as bridges are built to span the years. Stanzas shall spontaneously fall into place and march with military precision. Every capital line shall converge upon our captain. Hail the crown of Donald T. Hail the mighty orange flame Hail the age's consummation (Voters have themselves to blame) TRUMP shall smash the global Hydra TRUMP shall avenge our national shame. TRUMP shall restore our families' honor; CONQUER (in his deplorable name) ! Captain TRUMP, the cord that binds TRUMP the axe-head and the judge. Leader DONALD, light that blinds. Our final King: let none begrudge. LOVE UNDER WILL ☻ ! (was that fascistic enough 4 U ?)
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23
Fasces and olive branch on one side, tails; wing-ed Phrygian cap on the head of an image of the spirit of Liberty, a fem. Heads. Dimes in the olden times, when I was born, 1948, dimes in America in those days symbolized a long known goodness for all men, included in we, the people, which includes me. Me and thee, we are we, only by virtue of my words being written and your reading of the same within our terms of endearment cookie. Each we we are in, let us call a set, but that confuses us, fuses us to gether. So, let's seee See it like this. I am good. I repel wrong and act right, asif I were polarized live in op position to evil evil live, have you seen it? Live, did it prosper in your presence or was peace the final state? Just, now. Please plea with your knower, don't lie. Say never all you wish, however never lie against the truth. To thine own self, et al... y'know in each generation of earth borne, one hero is reared to play your role, dear reader. Fret not, know wisdom has been maligned as calling us through each position of the fool... there is a map of these positions in a statuary garden behind the temple of the golden buddha in Bankok, visited with Mr. Boo in 1968. I remember none of the poses but ai knows they form a pyramid, i imagine it peaks in some backward footed kundalini pose, which is bull **** I imagined. Wisdom is gentle and easy to be entreated, okeh, heko.
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Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 10:43 PM UTC
Musing on a Mercury Dime
Pour faire sourire ma muse Malgré elle je fais le pitre : Je me fais animal en extinction Tamarin lion de jour Et Ara cobalt de nuit Et je fais constamment la mue Entre Anodorhynchus leari Et Leontopithecus rosalia Et à force de mues Je perds le Nord Je me pends par la queue Aux branches de mon nid Je fais des grimaces et je lèche le bec des femelles En rut. Mais ma muse raffole Non pas de ma race folle De tamarin-ara métis Mais des gorilles, bonobos et magots Et autre faune libertine... Elle adore ! Elle est admirative ! J'ai beau lui sortir ma généalogie ascendante de mandrill Mes trois seizièmes de sang bonobo, Mes trois seizièmes de gènes de gorille, Mes trois seizièmes d'âme de macaque de barbarie Et mon blason d'argent à quatre fasces de gueules Ma muse n'en a cure. Elle n 'a d'yeux que pour ces bonobos, Gorilles et magots légitimes D'authentique Afrique mythique.
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Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 2:04 AM UTC
Gorille, bonobo et magot