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"hitler" poems
Donald has a comb-over. ****** a funny moustache. Hair Donald? Heil ******
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Comb-over for Herr Trump
Donald Trump what a Chump The name makes my blood Boil His views remind me of Those poor Jews when ****** Caused such Immortal coil Trump claims to be against Extremism yet it Leaks through his core all the Way to his Brittle bones Brainwashing vulnerable; Led to his Blood stained Throne No blood shed yet; He speaks Hell don't be so naive Trump contemplated by So many minds in this Day and age shouldn't be Building walls make them tall Then what Is this the way? Segregation, Racism Shuts his eyes, Cover's ears He'll not hear what we say It's Devastating such Man claims chance to taint our Minds with his Bitter taste A Catastrophe, Shows no Diplomacy With 'Morals' formed into Very Strange Scary shapes Yes, I agree Something Needs to change but Believe Me 'Trump' is not that Thing Sheds empty promises Causing controversy With 'Peace' as the end goal Trumps No way to begin His Immaturity Is so apparent that He will ruin the world As we know it today I think Trump needs some help Some Mental help to drive All those Devils living Within him Far away! © Karen L Hamilton, January 2016
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 8:20 PM UTC
The Flump Trump
Now, today has been a **** day in every single way. Today was the start of my holiday in Spain, until French strikes, caused me pain. We were not flying. Now, I did not weep, wail or flail my skin, instead, I said c'est la vie. They are so very French. Reminded myself that the French are cheese eating surrender monkeys, awful at football (soccer) dreadful at tennis, middling in rugby, and tend to suffer delusions of grandeur **** a French word!) They lost at Agincourt, Waterloo, WW2, think snails are a delicacy,and  allowed Mr. ****** in to rub their bellies. But, I am H.A.P.P.Y. Home Alive Prompt Proud Y? Because I'm eating strawberries and cream, whilst watching Wimbledon. How very British!
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
Happy
The blue necklace... The sun is laughing and shining Oh God, Why are you so powerless ? I implant the fish in the sea The whales implant the trees in the oceans My golden earrings were lost His eyes were not blue My blue necklace is beautiful My mother's eyes are more beautiful for knowing Gandhi as a good leader And ****** as a bad one and I'm just scared of fame The poet stacks on the words in such a way that even he himself doesn't know what is he saying The society is always colorful But my eyes are black and white I was praying for the death of my mom, my sister or me ''Jasmine'' Mom! Are The Clouds whiter up there in the sky?! گردنبند آبی خورشید می خندد و می درخشد ...خدایا تو چرا هیچ قدرتی نداری!؟ من ماهی ها را در دریا می کارم نهنگ ها در اقیانوس درخت می کارند گوشواره های طلایی من گم شد چشمان او آبی نبود گردنبند آبی من زیباست چشم های مادر من زیبا تر است که گاندی را رهبری خوب می دانند و هیتلر را بد و من فقط از شهرت می ترسم شاعر آنقدر کلمات را روی هم می چیند که حتی خودش هم نمی داند چی می گوید جامعه همیشه رنگارنگ است و چشم های من سیاه و سفید دعا می کردم کاش مادرم مرده بود یا خواهرم خودم ''یاسمن'' !مامان اون بالا تو آسمون ابرها سفید تراند!؟
0
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 10:05 AM UTC
Jasmine's blue necklace گردنبند آبی یاسمن
The blue necklace... The sun is laughing and shining Oh God, Why are you so powerless ? I implant the fish in the sea The whales implant the trees in the oceans My golden earrings were lost His eyes were not blue My blue necklace is beautiful My mother's eyes are more beautiful for knowing Gandhi as a good leader And ****** as a bad one and I'm just scared of fame The poet stacks on the words in such a way that even he himself doesn't know what is he saying The society is always colorful But my eyes are black and white I was praying for the death of my mom, my sister or me ''Jasmine'' Mom! Are The Clouds whiter up there in the sky?! گردنبند آبی خورشید می خندد و می درخشد ...خدایا تو چرا هیچ قدرتی نداری!؟ من ماهی ها را در دریا می کارم نهنگ ها در اقیانوس درخت می کارند گوشواره های طلایی من گم شد چشمان او آبی نبود گردنبند آبی من زیباست چشم های مادر من زیبا تر است که گاندی را رهبری خوب می دانند و هیتلر را بد و من فقط از شهرت می ترسم شاعر آنقدر کلمات را روی هم می چیند که حتی خودش هم نمی داند چی می گوید جامعه همیشه رنگارنگ است و چشم های من سیاه و سفید دعا می کردم کاش مادرم مرده بود یا خواهرم خودم ''یاسمن'' !مامان اون بالا تو آسمون ابرها سفید تراند!؟
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56
Decisions Eanie meanie minie mo one can not decide like so your past is gone, let it go eanie meanie minie mo We think they were childish games to play yet it tells our future each and every day Its a 50-50 shot you could go ether way But there is no turning back One step in the wrong direction and you are done for Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you Like hot lava A playground game If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart A bruise A forgotten friend One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die Like ****** His Mother almost got an abortion Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind But her family won the match If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today Would there be dozens of Einsteins? A million Madonnas? Would there be a cure for all the cancers? For the common cold? Every judgement is a puzzle piece Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate Everything matters If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband All of that for a jug of milk
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Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
Decisions
Decisions Eanie meanie minie mo one can not decide like so your past is gone, let it go eanie meanie minie mo We think they were childish games to play yet it tells our future each and every day Its a 50-50 shot you could go ether way But there is no turning back One step in the wrong direction and you are done for Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you Like hot lava A playground game If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart A bruise A forgotten friend One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die Like ****** His Mother almost got an abortion Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind But her family won the match If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today Would there be dozens of Einsteins? A million Madonnas? Would there be a cure for all the cancers? For the common cold? Every judgement is a puzzle piece Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate Everything matters If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband All of that for a jug of milk
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38
these words are a paraphrasing of the famous words from Martin Niemöller, an anti-Hitler, German Christian pastor: "First, they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I wasn’t a trade unionist, so I didn’t speak out. Then they came for the Jews. I wasn’t a Jew so I didn’t speak out. Then they came for me, and there was no one to speak for me.” <?> 8/22/17 2:01am https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_they_came_...
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 2:10 AM UTC
A Poem: "Then they came for me"
////March 20 2014 ///// Fainting spells are more common when I'm trying to memorize how ****** got into power Sighing is more common when I'm trying to learn the art of polynomials crying is more common when I have two tests tomorrow and I still need to start that essay that was given yesterday madness is when I have to understand that my sadness is a genetic disposition I could never control Disappointment is more common when I have to yet again cancel the plans I made with my friends But still even after a week of doing this **** the only thing I learned is that knowledge isn't found in a textbook and a power point presentation
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Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Education
Spooky Wooky Skelington Booky Wooky Selling tin Zooky Mooky Telling Jim Rooky Pooky That ****** was right
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:40 PM UTC
deodorant
Home is where the heart is but the heart is a broken place.           I hate how loud I must barely scream so that people can see my face:           I am dark and this is a time of shadows. Sometimes what worries me most about us is not that we are forced to carry guns and **** our own mothers is not that we are pulled from our classrooms back into our homesteads is not that some of our leaders feast while we become skinny UNICEF models is not that if only one molecule of my DNA was different I could have lived without ever knowing how to read even a single word is not even that the smallest of things can wipe out entire villages in an instant- mosquitoes, viruses, locusts; slave ships. Sometimes what worries me most is that my headphones carry more sounds of strange places than my heart will ever know-  that not even my brothers and sisters sold off to those strange places ever knew, as their children are hung off the trees of Jim Crow and we call them strange fruit, and that maybe our first president didn't marry a white lady; the white lady might have married him. Sometimes what worries me most is that for just over eighteen years of seeing thinking feeling breathing being I couldn't have ever told you what Africa meant to me past the occasional 'dumela' to my mother's mother but never, never did I know or now know or will know my mother's mother's mother's mother's mother because she can't fit inside the cellular America that I hold in my palm. And this is why they call us lost. Because home is where the heart is but the heart is a broken place. One time, my five year old cousin said matter-of-factly that black is ugly. In my Primary School days everyone said I should stay out of the sun lest I get darker. But I'm here to tell you that I don't even bother wearing a sun-hat anymore. I'm here to tell you that I don't cut my hair because to do so would feel like oppression. I'm here to tell you how vivid and lovely and blessed I do feel to have been born in broken-heart home because at least it has soul. I'm here to tell you that, yes, I do remember that time when the whole world knew what to do about ****** and Bin Laden but never could get round to talking about Cecil John Rhodes. I'm here to tell you that Today, that conversation starts with a toppled statue. Today, that conversation starts with my voice. Today, this conversation starts with a poem which proclaims- child I am, child I am, child I am, child I am, child I am- that this is my day. This is my day. The Day of the African Child.
0
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
June 16th.
Home is where the heart is but the heart is a broken place.           I hate how loud I must barely scream so that people can see my face:           I am dark and this is a time of shadows. Sometimes what worries me most about us is not that we are forced to carry guns and **** our own mothers is not that we are pulled from our classrooms back into our homesteads is not that some of our leaders feast while we become skinny UNICEF models is not that if only one molecule of my DNA was different I could have lived without ever knowing how to read even a single word is not even that the smallest of things can wipe out entire villages in an instant- mosquitoes, viruses, locusts; slave ships. Sometimes what worries me most is that my headphones carry more sounds of strange places than my heart will ever know-  that not even my brothers and sisters sold off to those strange places ever knew, as their children are hung off the trees of Jim Crow and we call them strange fruit, and that maybe our first president didn't marry a white lady; the white lady might have married him. Sometimes what worries me most is that for just over eighteen years of seeing thinking feeling breathing being I couldn't have ever told you what Africa meant to me past the occasional 'dumela' to my mother's mother but never, never did I know or now know or will know my mother's mother's mother's mother's mother because she can't fit inside the cellular America that I hold in my palm. And this is why they call us lost. Because home is where the heart is but the heart is a broken place. One time, my five year old cousin said matter-of-factly that black is ugly. In my Primary School days everyone said I should stay out of the sun lest I get darker. But I'm here to tell you that I don't even bother wearing a sun-hat anymore. I'm here to tell you that I don't cut my hair because to do so would feel like oppression. I'm here to tell you how vivid and lovely and blessed I do feel to have been born in broken-heart home because at least it has soul. I'm here to tell you that, yes, I do remember that time when the whole world knew what to do about ****** and Bin Laden but never could get round to talking about Cecil John Rhodes. I'm here to tell you that Today, that conversation starts with a toppled statue. Today, that conversation starts with my voice. Today, this conversation starts with a poem which proclaims- child I am, child I am, child I am, child I am, child I am- that this is my day. This is my day. The Day of the African Child.
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42
Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us. Once we had a country and we thought it fair, Look in the atlas and you'll find it there: We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now. In the village churchyard there grows an old yew, Every spring it blossoms anew: Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that. The consul banged the table and said, "If you've got no passport you're officially dead": But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive. Went to a committee; they offered me a chair; Asked me politely to return next year: But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day? Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said; "If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread": He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me. Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky; It was ****** over Europe, saying, "They must die": O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind. Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin, Saw a door opened and a cat let in: But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews. Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay, Saw the fish swimming as if they were free: Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away. Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees; They had no politicians and sang at their ease: They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race. Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors, A thousand windows and a thousand doors: Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours. Stood on a great plain in the falling snow; Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro: Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
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6.6k
Refugee Blues
Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us. Once we had a country and we thought it fair, Look in the atlas and you'll find it there: We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now. In the village churchyard there grows an old yew, Every spring it blossoms anew: Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that. The consul banged the table and said, "If you've got no passport you're officially dead": But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive. Went to a committee; they offered me a chair; Asked me politely to return next year: But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day? Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said; "If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread": He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me. Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky; It was ****** over Europe, saying, "They must die": O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind. Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin, Saw a door opened and a cat let in: But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews. Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay, Saw the fish swimming as if they were free: Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away. Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees; They had no politicians and sang at their ease: They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race. Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors, A thousand windows and a thousand doors: Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours. Stood on a great plain in the falling snow; Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro: Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
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36
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi World War II - ADOLF ****** by DARIEN,  Aug 21, 2006 Austria raised a man so vile and vicious His life was dark, callous and malicious Passions of hatred engraved in his mind As he plotted to create his own mankind A soldier for Germany in World War One War to end all wars had only just begun The National Socialist Party appeared fast Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool False promises made, people he would fool Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps Without their help Germany would collapse The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone Germany's President died, he took the throne He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany And would start the worst war of the century War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact Together with Russia, Poland they attacked England and France were not ready for war Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored. Mussolini became his ally and supported him For all other countries their chances were slim Many countries were defeated in a few days the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most In defeating all his enemies he came close The Nazis would spread all across Europe But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop Communist regimes were one group he did hate Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end There was still so much for people to defend On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished ****** and fascism in Europe was abolished World War Two ended the areas were secure From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******                                       - By Darien. (Canada)   ..........................................................................
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
WORLD WAR II - ADOLF ******
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi World War II - ADOLF ****** by DARIEN,  Aug 21, 2006 Austria raised a man so vile and vicious His life was dark, callous and malicious Passions of hatred engraved in his mind As he plotted to create his own mankind A soldier for Germany in World War One War to end all wars had only just begun The National Socialist Party appeared fast Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool False promises made, people he would fool Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps Without their help Germany would collapse The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone Germany's President died, he took the throne He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany And would start the worst war of the century War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact Together with Russia, Poland they attacked England and France were not ready for war Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored. Mussolini became his ally and supported him For all other countries their chances were slim Many countries were defeated in a few days the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most In defeating all his enemies he came close The Nazis would spread all across Europe But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop Communist regimes were one group he did hate Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end There was still so much for people to defend On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished ****** and fascism in Europe was abolished World War Two ended the areas were secure From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******                                       - By Darien. (Canada)   ..........................................................................
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41
I can name you The exact date On which he was shot: June 28, 1914. Who killed him? Gavrilo Princip, Member of the Bosnian Nationalist Movement: The Black Hand. Suddenly this montage Of bullet chambers And dead wars Shift - Hands. You. Me. Your fingers, Which I long to hold. Your voice, Which I long to hear. Which I have forgotten - Sometimes it is hard To trace the annals Of history. Our ****** pawprints Make the trail of Arms and hatred Harder to keep straight Than sin and so We walk backwards. ****** trail of footsteps Perhaps stepped Into By a meandering Mao, or ****** Or Tojo. Muddied further By the presence Of an Alger Hiss - Your voice Is a whisper, It sings to me in Secrets - I do not Know you but I Am in love, You are beautiful and I don't know why But there's a War. In my heart. A war of attrition. Subtraction Of causes. And the Archduke, Well the Archduke Is glad to see you. Hear his dates blur Into yours - History tests, And love notes Crumpled away folded And stored In the same junk Folder. I imagine his hands To have folded Quite slowly, Searching for something To latch onto. Like mine. Empty palms flickering Amidst a trail of Blood and dust - Oh, and yeah The history lessons Of course.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
Archduke Franz Ferdinand's Assassin
white man says make america great again white man says it like he ever knew America bad like he ever knew anything but privilege white man says take us back to better times and I wonder which he means maybe genocide or slavery or Jim Crow or woman only knows kitchen or woman doesn't get vote or back of the bus or don't ask don't tell or all that war and all that death white man says make America great again like it ever was to begin with other white man says make America Christian again like this country wasn't founded on freedom of religion like you’re only free to have it if you love Jesus white man says conservative with fear between his own teeth says the word like it's a dying breed like it'd be a bad thing if it did says it like he knows a **** thing about what it means to be a minority white man says **** political correctness as if kindness requires too much effort as if it's a mistake to be considerate as if words don’t have significance white man says Mexican Mexican Muslim says go back says you're not wanted here sounds a lot like 1941 Germany sounds a lot like ****** Mexican Muslim brown person doesn't know how much survival it takes to be one in this country white man says legal like it only means good like these men who look just like him don't walk into movie theatres and shoot into schools and shoot into churches and shoot into mosques and shoot into human and shoot tell me again what it means to be legal to belong here to have the right to be alive without chains say we'd rather have guns walk free than citizens say we'd rather save money than lives say this country's got too many problems say you know how to fix it white man says make America great again but doesn’t know that progress doesn’t work in reverse tell me again how going backward will make the future any brighter when our past is a reflection of all the light we never really had
0
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
GOP
white man says make america great again white man says it like he ever knew America bad like he ever knew anything but privilege white man says take us back to better times and I wonder which he means maybe genocide or slavery or Jim Crow or woman only knows kitchen or woman doesn't get vote or back of the bus or don't ask don't tell or all that war and all that death white man says make America great again like it ever was to begin with other white man says make America Christian again like this country wasn't founded on freedom of religion like you’re only free to have it if you love Jesus white man says conservative with fear between his own teeth says the word like it's a dying breed like it'd be a bad thing if it did says it like he knows a **** thing about what it means to be a minority white man says **** political correctness as if kindness requires too much effort as if it's a mistake to be considerate as if words don’t have significance white man says Mexican Mexican Muslim says go back says you're not wanted here sounds a lot like 1941 Germany sounds a lot like ****** Mexican Muslim brown person doesn't know how much survival it takes to be one in this country white man says legal like it only means good like these men who look just like him don't walk into movie theatres and shoot into schools and shoot into churches and shoot into mosques and shoot into human and shoot tell me again what it means to be legal to belong here to have the right to be alive without chains say we'd rather have guns walk free than citizens say we'd rather save money than lives say this country's got too many problems say you know how to fix it white man says make America great again but doesn’t know that progress doesn’t work in reverse tell me again how going backward will make the future any brighter when our past is a reflection of all the light we never really had
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75
American Democracy is setting a trend: American Democracy is a Sitcom, or perhaps a Game Show of demagogic, narcissistic sociopaths tricking and manipulating the Public via various sources in a highly consolidated Media industry into thinking they vote for a particular flavor of Tyranny when in reality Today's flavor of Tyranny is all decided for you because the burden of Choice is far too stressful for the Moderner without proper medication, and the power of Choice may require some sort of educated critical Thinking, some sort of re-edification which is far too much for us to handle in this socially sanctioned doped-up state and with such an intentionally failing Education system from K through 12 and beyond. With American Democracy, We have a grand Illusion of Choice. It's so convincing that many believe the Illusion is True. (Sort of like hew we think of Reality, but with Choice of Government!) For American Democracy, They don't want mass Education. They don't want mass Edification. They don't want Critical Thinking; Those things prevent a Control by few. In American Democracy, They intentionally destroy progresses made, like Rights, They perpetuate stigmas about things like genders and the concept of "race" itself They propagate Terror as their Sheeple scream from the sidelines for more They defile the sanctity of Human Experience, of Reality itself and chain us to a system that benefits only a few while destroying everything else, like Climate and Environment. These Demagogues are Satan, if Satan is real: They tempt us with the things we don't need, filling us with Stress, Desires, Prejudices and Fears, and ceaselessly wage war on institutions of Education, all the while keeping us from finding the things we already have within each of us. This System of American Democracy has degraded into a  corrupted fractal of the ages-old ways of Tyranny and Terror: Aristocracy, Plutocracy, Patriarchy, Oligarchy, Kleptocracy, Demagoguery, Bankocracy, Corporatocracy, Fascism; Tell me, What is the ******* difference? I mean, even Adolf ****** was elected democratically under the pretense of "Change" then, for weeks later, suspended civil rights indefinitely after a likely false-flag 'attack' on the Reichstag in 1933, (for which the Nazis blamed the communists.) under the pretense of "Security": Demagoguery runs Amok Among disedified Minds. They say "Freedom" and "Democracy" as if it vindicates their Totalitarianism.
0
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
American Democracy
American Democracy is setting a trend: American Democracy is a Sitcom, or perhaps a Game Show of demagogic, narcissistic sociopaths tricking and manipulating the Public via various sources in a highly consolidated Media industry into thinking they vote for a particular flavor of Tyranny when in reality Today's flavor of Tyranny is all decided for you because the burden of Choice is far too stressful for the Moderner without proper medication, and the power of Choice may require some sort of educated critical Thinking, some sort of re-edification which is far too much for us to handle in this socially sanctioned doped-up state and with such an intentionally failing Education system from K through 12 and beyond. With American Democracy, We have a grand Illusion of Choice. It's so convincing that many believe the Illusion is True. (Sort of like hew we think of Reality, but with Choice of Government!) For American Democracy, They don't want mass Education. They don't want mass Edification. They don't want Critical Thinking; Those things prevent a Control by few. In American Democracy, They intentionally destroy progresses made, like Rights, They perpetuate stigmas about things like genders and the concept of "race" itself They propagate Terror as their Sheeple scream from the sidelines for more They defile the sanctity of Human Experience, of Reality itself and chain us to a system that benefits only a few while destroying everything else, like Climate and Environment. These Demagogues are Satan, if Satan is real: They tempt us with the things we don't need, filling us with Stress, Desires, Prejudices and Fears, and ceaselessly wage war on institutions of Education, all the while keeping us from finding the things we already have within each of us. This System of American Democracy has degraded into a  corrupted fractal of the ages-old ways of Tyranny and Terror: Aristocracy, Plutocracy, Patriarchy, Oligarchy, Kleptocracy, Demagoguery, Bankocracy, Corporatocracy, Fascism; Tell me, What is the ******* difference? I mean, even Adolf ****** was elected democratically under the pretense of "Change" then, for weeks later, suspended civil rights indefinitely after a likely false-flag 'attack' on the Reichstag in 1933, (for which the Nazis blamed the communists.) under the pretense of "Security": Demagoguery runs Amok Among disedified Minds. They say "Freedom" and "Democracy" as if it vindicates their Totalitarianism.
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60
Silly, silly, silly me. To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody? Silly, silly, silly me. You can't be free, and that's just it, All you are is 'somebody.' Some-body. "Some body." But that's not true! Look at Trostky and Lenin, Michael Myers and Lennon, The other Lennon. It's hard to differentiate in name and legacy, Because both Lennon's were revolutionaries, Marching around like the freshman from heaven. But neither believed they were the result of divine intervention in the affairs of man, Because this convention would threaten their worldview and beckon away their sanity... In the same way that the Pope or ****** let their divine vanity commit greater blasphemy and bring them future agony. Now neither Lennon nor Lenin came anywhere close to being men from Galilee, In fact they were more the men of the galaxy, Or at least, John was, with his peach fuzz beard and his belief that love is greater than fear. The other Lenin implemented the New Economic Policy, to starve the proletariat and start his revolution on an already hypocritical trend that would continue quite the same until the very end. And it proves something, does it not? Violence sends a message to no one but the instigator, Changing them to justify, and claim is wasn't misbehavior; But that's a lie, no idea of mine is worth the death of a human mind, And to pretend otherwise makes one delude themselves that they aren't an instigator, but an illustrator, Painting in the blood as if ****** makes an innovator. And for ****** there is no vindicator, Violence is an image breaker, Indulged in by poor imitators who think they're right, and the world is wrong. Unaware this makes them weak, not strong. Now John Lennon was the true revolutionary; Although he succumbed to violence, he veered away from it, even when it was necessary. He fought the war, and yes, the war did win, But at least he didn't cover his scars with artificial skin, Or deny his implicit wrongs as a result of all original sin. John Lennon used the word 'nigger' to the opposite effect. He used the word to trigger something bigger and correct, The wrong that seemed so propagated by the last colonial tide, Of which the other Lenin defected and took colonialism's side. John Lennon was Utopian and told us of a better world; He interjected definition, and caused old thoughts to curl away in fright, And bite the dust despite their might and past dominion of industrialism, It was a schism, and it still plagues us to this day. John Lennon understood we over-complicate way To Often. Silly, silly, silly me. To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody? Silly, silly, silly me. You can't be free, and that's just it, All you are is 'somebody.' Some-body. "Some body." "Some body" is something, And some body can change the world.
0
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:34 PM UTC
Some body.
Silly, silly, silly me. To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody? Silly, silly, silly me. You can't be free, and that's just it, All you are is 'somebody.' Some-body. "Some body." But that's not true! Look at Trostky and Lenin, Michael Myers and Lennon, The other Lennon. It's hard to differentiate in name and legacy, Because both Lennon's were revolutionaries, Marching around like the freshman from heaven. But neither believed they were the result of divine intervention in the affairs of man, Because this convention would threaten their worldview and beckon away their sanity... In the same way that the Pope or ****** let their divine vanity commit greater blasphemy and bring them future agony. Now neither Lennon nor Lenin came anywhere close to being men from Galilee, In fact they were more the men of the galaxy, Or at least, John was, with his peach fuzz beard and his belief that love is greater than fear. The other Lenin implemented the New Economic Policy, to starve the proletariat and start his revolution on an already hypocritical trend that would continue quite the same until the very end. And it proves something, does it not? Violence sends a message to no one but the instigator, Changing them to justify, and claim is wasn't misbehavior; But that's a lie, no idea of mine is worth the death of a human mind, And to pretend otherwise makes one delude themselves that they aren't an instigator, but an illustrator, Painting in the blood as if ****** makes an innovator. And for ****** there is no vindicator, Violence is an image breaker, Indulged in by poor imitators who think they're right, and the world is wrong. Unaware this makes them weak, not strong. Now John Lennon was the true revolutionary; Although he succumbed to violence, he veered away from it, even when it was necessary. He fought the war, and yes, the war did win, But at least he didn't cover his scars with artificial skin, Or deny his implicit wrongs as a result of all original sin. John Lennon used the word 'nigger' to the opposite effect. He used the word to trigger something bigger and correct, The wrong that seemed so propagated by the last colonial tide, Of which the other Lenin defected and took colonialism's side. John Lennon was Utopian and told us of a better world; He interjected definition, and caused old thoughts to curl away in fright, And bite the dust despite their might and past dominion of industrialism, It was a schism, and it still plagues us to this day. John Lennon understood we over-complicate way To Often. Silly, silly, silly me. To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody? Silly, silly, silly me. You can't be free, and that's just it, All you are is 'somebody.' Some-body. "Some body." "Some body" is something, And some body can change the world.
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56
Wouldn't it be weird if JFK was reincarnated as Monica Lewinski? Buddha probably ate better butter than Ghandi. If we keep fighting the divine fellows we pray to will be too afraid to return. This isn't ******* Highlander. Christ, what a hilariously insane movie. They probably show that to people who drink caviar & say things like "pip pip!" Either way, we're all related. Otherwise than that, let's all be LOVE. Except for people who commit genocide. May they be reincarnated as Hitler's final excretion as he killed himself; including ******
0
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC
Normal View on Absurdist Life--Absurdist View on Normal Life
i like to turn into a girl once in a fortnight after i just washed my hair... and take a selfie! then i read the fashion magazine alongside marquis de sade... and it makes perfect sense to **** beauty like that... well according to the marquis it does. how's my hair? styled properly brushed to the side long against anti-clockwise curtains of lock that was propaganda with ****** adopting the charlie chaplin moustache and people after ****** ensured confusion whether to split it to the right rather than the left? i’m right-handed, i need the power base of keratin on my cranium hanging to the left!
0
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
fortnight hygiene
Excerpts from “Travels with Einstein” by Michael R. Burch for Trump I went to Berlin to learn wisdom from Adolph. The wild spittle flew as he screamed at me, with great conviction: “Please despise me! I look like a Jew!” So I flew off to ’Nam to learn wisdom from tall Yankees who cursed “yellow” foes. “If we lose this small square,” they informed me, earth’s nations will fall, dominoes!” I then sat at Christ’s feet to learn wisdom, but his Book, from its genesis to close, said: “Men can enslave their own brothers!” (I soon noticed he lacked any clothes.) So I traveled to bright Tel Aviv where great scholars with lofty IQs informed me that (since I’m an Arab) I’m unfit to lick dirt from their shoes. At last, done with learning, I stumbled to a well where the waters seemed sweet: the mirage of American “justice.” There I wept a real sea, in defeat. Originally published by Café Dissensus Keywords/Tags: Einstein, Adolph, ****** Berlin, Jew, Jews, Arab, Arabs, Palestinian, Palestinians, Vietnam, Vietnamese, American, Americans, Yankees, Domino, Theory, Dominoes, Jesus, Christ, Bible, Christian, Christianity, Slave, Slaves, Slavery, Israel, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv
0
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 4:11 AM UTC
Excerpts from “Travels with Einstein”
you can hear the echo via Zizek the Slovak, well, attire me in slavic myths and i'll be mumbling purrs in mud too for a helium bubble to become a comedian, i know a jittery ******* addiction when i see one... if one thing the catholic schooling system taught me was how to avoid sniffing glue and how to recognise a Freudian apostle - still, with all the hippy **** you'd think sniffing glue was what Ukrainian existentialism prescribed with paracetamol, catholic education just said: no no. **** me it's the late 90s and we're talking post-Chernobyl antics... but that's how i see the left, leftist politics, the right                utilises prefixes and suffixes in the old stance of simple pre- pro-                                     anti-                                             qua-                                                                -so so... the left? oh they're right in there... their prefixes are                                 Marxist- liberal-                                          Hegelian-              whatnot...                                                 they don't use abstract prefixes,                                           their prefixes are concrete,                         they want the porridge in their mouth to ensure a slur that never comes, among a range of onomatopoeias they argue from the perspective of the hushed and ushered crowd, via one observation: Stalin clapped after a speech to enjoin with the crowd, a real big brother, ****** never clapped, a sitting-duck method; i'm not advocating, but by a proxy placebo dynamo experimenting, it's called experimenting with thought rather than practising with will, former no chance of footstep evaluation for cult status imitable -                                       the left intellectual has no rubric of thought concerning to and fro - it has to be concrete layered and a shut off perfect architecture without fault - it can't be what it is -                                       con- has to be conservative                                                   pro- has to be socialist                                      you once said legitimate transparency - but you didn't say legislation - well, the left understood it as legislation, the right too wanted legitimate transparency - the green party said we could have neither but could have the replanting of a thousand oak trees with a Robin Hood placard on the first oak tree replanted in Sherwood Forest... b. ~ d. ~... shot ~100 bent arrows into a bullseye - hurrah! hurrah! maid marian lost her virginity too! to a broomstick rather than maradona's fingernail toothpick! at an essex market the cockney shouts (out of place): *** yer courgettes! *** yer courgettes! ta fa a pudding! ta fa a pudding! *** yer cucumbers! tooth firth 'un!
0
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
i don't talk
you can hear the echo via Zizek the Slovak, well, attire me in slavic myths and i'll be mumbling purrs in mud too for a helium bubble to become a comedian, i know a jittery ******* addiction when i see one... if one thing the catholic schooling system taught me was how to avoid sniffing glue and how to recognise a Freudian apostle - still, with all the hippy **** you'd think sniffing glue was what Ukrainian existentialism prescribed with paracetamol, catholic education just said: no no. **** me it's the late 90s and we're talking post-Chernobyl antics... but that's how i see the left, leftist politics, the right                utilises prefixes and suffixes in the old stance of simple pre- pro-                                     anti-                                             qua-                                                                -so so... the left? oh they're right in there... their prefixes are                                 Marxist- liberal-                                          Hegelian-              whatnot...                                                 they don't use abstract prefixes,                                           their prefixes are concrete,                         they want the porridge in their mouth to ensure a slur that never comes, among a range of onomatopoeias they argue from the perspective of the hushed and ushered crowd, via one observation: Stalin clapped after a speech to enjoin with the crowd, a real big brother, ****** never clapped, a sitting-duck method; i'm not advocating, but by a proxy placebo dynamo experimenting, it's called experimenting with thought rather than practising with will, former no chance of footstep evaluation for cult status imitable -                                       the left intellectual has no rubric of thought concerning to and fro - it has to be concrete layered and a shut off perfect architecture without fault - it can't be what it is -                                       con- has to be conservative                                                   pro- has to be socialist                                      you once said legitimate transparency - but you didn't say legislation - well, the left understood it as legislation, the right too wanted legitimate transparency - the green party said we could have neither but could have the replanting of a thousand oak trees with a Robin Hood placard on the first oak tree replanted in Sherwood Forest... b. ~ d. ~... shot ~100 bent arrows into a bullseye - hurrah! hurrah! maid marian lost her virginity too! to a broomstick rather than maradona's fingernail toothpick! at an essex market the cockney shouts (out of place): *** yer courgettes! *** yer courgettes! ta fa a pudding! ta fa a pudding! *** yer cucumbers! tooth firth 'un!
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70
Does evil exist? Well, does it, or not? I demand an answer And if it does, hold that thought Because if wrong does exist We must face the reality That calling something wrong means There's a right way things ought to be But if wrong does not truly Exist in bright colors Well, what, then is justice But a meaningless construct? If the **** of a child In all histories and cultures Can be called pure evil Even by society's worst prisoners If the ****** of innocents Is forever and always An evil in society That can't be tolerated If imprisonment of a woman Like chattel for sale Being held as a *** slave In her own private hell Or murdering Jews Like Hitler's evil plan Or starving millions unjustly In Stalin's Ukraine Or killing the masses For political expedience Culling babies in China Or locking up dissidents If beheading of heretics Is inherently wrong Or even violating your privacy Or invading your home If these are universally bad And there's meaning in words Then there's universal good That our souls are drawn toward Something more than just philosophy Because that lacks authority And if good is defined by the majority Then what about the minority? Tyrants run roughshod When rights come and go At the whims of the powerful Because what they say goes No, evil is something More than laws, or from cultures Or philosophical sophistry From ivory towers To try to stop badness Is really to defend That there's a god of pure goodness Who wants us like him We can discuss who that god is And what is his substance But the least we can do Is acknowledge his existence You can say that religion Starts evil wars and such And you might just be right But you've just proved too much Because if there is no god Whose nature defines goodness Who are you to call war bad Or **** evil, or hate, darkness? Who are you to sit in judgment Of the religious who you think hate you? If there is no moral standard That makes hate wrong, and judging too? If morality is nothing more Than just a social contract Then it's just he said/she said And there's no moral compass You see, your compass is as good as mine And that may be fine, generally Until the ****** asserts his own Warped idea of morality What makes his wrong And yours universally right? That's a tough question That keeps philosophers up at night Because indeed, if there is no god There's no guilt to assuage For the wrongs that man does Because there is no such gauge It's like measuring empty Without knowing what full is Or like trying to describe love Without knowing who God is
0
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Does evil exist?
Does evil exist? Well, does it, or not? I demand an answer And if it does, hold that thought Because if wrong does exist We must face the reality That calling something wrong means There's a right way things ought to be But if wrong does not truly Exist in bright colors Well, what, then is justice But a meaningless construct? If the **** of a child In all histories and cultures Can be called pure evil Even by society's worst prisoners If the ****** of innocents Is forever and always An evil in society That can't be tolerated If imprisonment of a woman Like chattel for sale Being held as a *** slave In her own private hell Or murdering Jews Like Hitler's evil plan Or starving millions unjustly In Stalin's Ukraine Or killing the masses For political expedience Culling babies in China Or locking up dissidents If beheading of heretics Is inherently wrong Or even violating your privacy Or invading your home If these are universally bad And there's meaning in words Then there's universal good That our souls are drawn toward Something more than just philosophy Because that lacks authority And if good is defined by the majority Then what about the minority? Tyrants run roughshod When rights come and go At the whims of the powerful Because what they say goes No, evil is something More than laws, or from cultures Or philosophical sophistry From ivory towers To try to stop badness Is really to defend That there's a god of pure goodness Who wants us like him We can discuss who that god is And what is his substance But the least we can do Is acknowledge his existence You can say that religion Starts evil wars and such And you might just be right But you've just proved too much Because if there is no god Whose nature defines goodness Who are you to call war bad Or **** evil, or hate, darkness? Who are you to sit in judgment Of the religious who you think hate you? If there is no moral standard That makes hate wrong, and judging too? If morality is nothing more Than just a social contract Then it's just he said/she said And there's no moral compass You see, your compass is as good as mine And that may be fine, generally Until the ****** asserts his own Warped idea of morality What makes his wrong And yours universally right? That's a tough question That keeps philosophers up at night Because indeed, if there is no god There's no guilt to assuage For the wrongs that man does Because there is no such gauge It's like measuring empty Without knowing what full is Or like trying to describe love Without knowing who God is
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92
I got no more ***** on my arms, vaginal schemes and gospel psalms. Very private skinny tribes, lit up with oversized black lights. In the very end, everybody walks this way, they all move like idioms, they all wanna be lit up like stars. Some could be prevalent like cascading dreams, nauseous just like mesquite BBQ baby-back wings. Fly away little bird, fly away. But don't try to leave Or you won't get paid. I know very well, just what kinda caption your capsaicin Can be, lit up like honey blunts, golden stars on top of your christmas tree. Strawberry Swisher Sweets, Blueberry Dunhill flavors, poke your hand through the fence, make friendly on your neighbors. If you like Kimmel Live, Conan at Midnight too, recipes for the zombies, SS ****** Youth. Blow-up and be a party. Get off work and drink your check. Get down, get off- I'll show you. Just how Martin pays the rent.
0
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:21 AM UTC
Payin' the Rent