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"jackboots" poems
He loved her and she loved him His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she ****** She wanted him complete inside her Safe and Sure forever and ever Their little cries fluttered into the curtains Her eyes wanted nothing to get away Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Or everlasting or whatever there was Her embrace was an immense press To print him into her bones His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place Where the real world would never come Her smiles were spider bites So he would lie still till she felt hungry His word were occupying armies Her laughs were an assasin's attempts His looks were bullets daggers of revenge Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets His whispers were whips and jackboots Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks And their deep cries crawled over the floors Like an animal dragging a great trap His promises were the surgeon's gag Her promises took the top off his skull She would get a brooch made of it His vows pulled out all her sinews He showed her how to make a love-knot At the back of her secret drawer Their screams stuck in the wall Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs In their dreams their brains took each other hostage In the morning they wore each other's face
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17.6k
Lovesong
He loved her and she loved him His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she ****** She wanted him complete inside her Safe and Sure forever and ever Their little cries fluttered into the curtains Her eyes wanted nothing to get away Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Or everlasting or whatever there was Her embrace was an immense press To print him into her bones His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place Where the real world would never come Her smiles were spider bites So he would lie still till she felt hungry His word were occupying armies Her laughs were an assasin's attempts His looks were bullets daggers of revenge Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets His whispers were whips and jackboots Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks And their deep cries crawled over the floors Like an animal dragging a great trap His promises were the surgeon's gag Her promises took the top off his skull She would get a brooch made of it His vows pulled out all her sinews He showed her how to make a love-knot At the back of her secret drawer Their screams stuck in the wall Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs In their dreams their brains took each other hostage In the morning they wore each other's face
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42
The sky is falling The people are hiding The jackboots are on their way A mother is calling A child is crying Uncertain they'll live through the day The tanks, they are treading Across sovereign borders Some soldiers are dreading Their inhumane orders Though they have an advantage This war can't be won And that "collateral damage" Is somebody's son The victims of war Are the poor and the sick Slaughtered like cattle For the wealthy and rich
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 8:47 PM UTC
War Never Changes
They weren’t all cut from the same cloth *vilified tenders of the iron ***** some were lovers (or lucid dreamers) stage romantics hidden behind jackboots and skull caps and switchblade seams Caste members of a forlorn pack counting their patchwork and deeds conjuring up demons around the console filling their dreams with radio reds and dusted quarries and faded sepia prints Brass knuckles and marches of the few lightening bolt cracks from a chilling blood moon death’s dark specter cold and ominous looms the cobalt sea swells near the nestled, and lost Clubhouse at Kiusta
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Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
The Clubhouse at Kiusta
Howls in the night cross the threshold of savagery Coordinated hate of a hundred jackboots stomping faces in the streets Storefronts smashed Crushed glass crunching under the feet of unbridled violence Doors bashed in Swinging sledges smash Women and children dragged kicking and screaming from their homes Beaten unconscious then beaten while unconscious Clothes rended flesh roughly groped ******* mashed by laughing barbarians with teeth made of knives Innocence of a generation ***** in a single evening Ransacking hands strangle the wealth of a culture One thousand synagogues in flames light cast magnified in the carpet of crystals sparkle of hellish brilliance Ninety one lives snuffed they were the lucky ones Avoided the camps where greater horrors were wrought in the forges of torment from the pounding of flesh beneath hatred like hammers
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Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 8:27 AM UTC
Kristallnacht
The sun was up, and daylight blue Filled all the air, but in the streets An obsidian dress fast cloaked la rue As evil crept on stealthy feet Which seemed at first to be small threat And undetect; but threat was rife With subtle moves the spylings breathe The stench of death, they lower life In a malicious, abrupt way Bewildered me, made themselves known Enemies to Freedom they Serve only to protect the crown We tangled, thrashed, my soul abashed As in obsidian pall it drowned And so throughout the bleak days, years They barricade the street and skies Their poxy prisons bring me years As they cull freebird as he flies He nimble tells their secrets for dear Price, a price upon his years Whereon the chase upon my back The devils apace to do their Ill Behind, beside me hearts pure black Know only evil Love no thrill For ****** rank they have the knack Of making life turn still The car swerved in with metal groan I run past them ever fast They the inquisition to my Joan Freedoms flag upon my mast Such fearfulness I have not known Than that they inspire, all hope lost What will become of our good man? Their petulance stalks him, his friends If all this time with strength he can Put doomed world on the mend He hath outwit them, beat the man Even if to grave they him send It is about a year ago The hunt, chase for me was afoot As we pacing to and fro In that town of soot A town of beauty till I behold The black coats and jackboots
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
On The Crescent
The Roman empire has fallen sadness weeps bitter tears how the mighty became poor old waif and the west held their jamboree without ignominy For once they were carried on shoulders in sedan trains in pomp and ceremony the masters sought safaris and ruled lions from Goa to Timbuktu the whiff of toast on marmalade n Darjeeling jackboots and clipped voices rang in plantations n hymns in churches The Roman empire has fallen Tea two anti-depressants please   Oh no no how have the mighty fallen unwanted unloved we cry diminished glory no invites to Continental parties no lovers in Casablanca the dusky maidens as footstool are Doctors at the corner Surgery those hunky dark torsos ferrying cocoa to steamers heading Cardiff are now earning two hundred thousand grand a week and drive Rolls The Roman empire has fallen now we just drink Bitter all the time the mighty s of the universe are now ******* come see the bullies in the school playground playing the Raj let me show you a place where four in ten cannot spell enterprising did you know when not in the Tropics some go for weeks un-bathed shock and awe jealousy n envy is the new black making them so mad old n young no self respect, no dignity and now only sad mad bullies
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Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 4:29 AM UTC
Sorry about your problem......
(part 1) Have you forgotten us? We, who, taken from our homes Our families and friends Were shunted like cattle In railway boxes fit for pigs Yet treated worse than either. Have you forgotten us? We, who were stamped and numbered Stripped and tortured Bruised and beaten Used as playthings for perverted men. Have you forgotten us? We, who were stripped naked And bundled into innocent looking rooms Whose clinical stench Belayed their hidden purpose. Have you forgotten us? We, who screamed with terror Drowning the laughs Of those outside As steel faucets Belched forth death. Have you forgotten us? We, the millions of children Who like rotting manure Were bulldozed into Bottomless pits Turning them into mountains. (part 2) Have you forgotten us? You, who protest so loudly, so bitterly Against the use of animals In scientific experiments. No one protested When they used us. Have you forgotten us You, who care so much for your old Your sick and your disabled, Our old were clubbed to death Our sick were left to die Our disabled were used for sport. Have you forgotten us? You, who lovingly protect your children. Ours were wrenched away from us Ours were used for ****** perversions, Ours were skinned alive. No one protected them. Have you forgotten us? You, who found the camps The massive ovens The mountains of bodies The hoards of hair and teeth The human skinned lampshades. Have you forgotten us? You, who murdered us. Are you deaf to our cries? Were they simply orders? Were you just soldiers? Didn’t you really know? Have you forgotten us? You the world we left behind. Can thirty years really dull Your memory of it all? Did it really happen? Wasn’t it all exaggerated? (part 3) So now we look down We thirty million or so At the indifference The political cover-ups The bland excuses The half-hearted attempts at justice. The murderers who live In luxury and power The monsters of earth Who created hell The generation who forgot The generation who never knew The generation who will never know The jackboots The ******** The Nazis’ salute (part 4) Yes you have forgotten us.
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Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
Have you forgotten us?
(part 1) Have you forgotten us? We, who, taken from our homes Our families and friends Were shunted like cattle In railway boxes fit for pigs Yet treated worse than either. Have you forgotten us? We, who were stamped and numbered Stripped and tortured Bruised and beaten Used as playthings for perverted men. Have you forgotten us? We, who were stripped naked And bundled into innocent looking rooms Whose clinical stench Belayed their hidden purpose. Have you forgotten us? We, who screamed with terror Drowning the laughs Of those outside As steel faucets Belched forth death. Have you forgotten us? We, the millions of children Who like rotting manure Were bulldozed into Bottomless pits Turning them into mountains. (part 2) Have you forgotten us? You, who protest so loudly, so bitterly Against the use of animals In scientific experiments. No one protested When they used us. Have you forgotten us You, who care so much for your old Your sick and your disabled, Our old were clubbed to death Our sick were left to die Our disabled were used for sport. Have you forgotten us? You, who lovingly protect your children. Ours were wrenched away from us Ours were used for ****** perversions, Ours were skinned alive. No one protected them. Have you forgotten us? You, who found the camps The massive ovens The mountains of bodies The hoards of hair and teeth The human skinned lampshades. Have you forgotten us? You, who murdered us. Are you deaf to our cries? Were they simply orders? Were you just soldiers? Didn’t you really know? Have you forgotten us? You the world we left behind. Can thirty years really dull Your memory of it all? Did it really happen? Wasn’t it all exaggerated? (part 3) So now we look down We thirty million or so At the indifference The political cover-ups The bland excuses The half-hearted attempts at justice. The murderers who live In luxury and power The monsters of earth Who created hell The generation who forgot The generation who never knew The generation who will never know The jackboots The ******** The Nazis’ salute (part 4) Yes you have forgotten us.
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Seldom have I seen such strength, such purposefulness shown And I have witnessed many who have made their message known, Immovable this woman stands in seas of raging tide Where friend and foe, as challengers, she’s deftly swept aside. Resolute she stands atop white cliffs of blazing chalk To glare across the Channel where her predecessors stalked In league with Winston Churchill with pugnacious jawline set When he thrashed the fiend in Jackboots and field grey appuletes. In league with Margaret Thatcher with that glint of grey in eyes To the accolades of Gorbachev who recognised the prize. In league with Boadecia the ghost of power past Who rallied this great nation to fight on to the last. Snapping at her ankles the dogs of turmoil writhe And comrades of another time amass to criticise, Labourites howl murderously to all who would take heed While the rabble rousing Europeans joust to intercede. Swirling round her skirts they mass now screaming their abuse At her articulated message of a pathway less obtuse. If Tony Blair had the ***** it’s to her side he’d dance As would Jeremy Corbett but of that there’s little chance, Her Majesty stands forthright, as do all her heirs Including Will and Harry who are cheering from the stairs. Dianna’s there in spirit plus the Kiwis from the pub And the rough crowd from the chippie all dolled up with a scrub. She needs ALL of you behind her in her struggle for the best, Independence for Great Britain is ascendancy’s great quest. The very heart of what It means to dwell within these shores The very heart of what it means to be Brittish to the core. England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales combining for the task Of a guarantee of future from the quagmire of the past. We SHALL stand behind Teresa May and make our voices heard As we scream aloud the anthem to impart our final word…. RULE BRITANNIA, BRITTANIA RULE THE WAVES BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER… SHALL BE SLAVES! Boom, boom, boom RULE BRITANNIA, BRITANNIA RULE THE WAVES BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER…. SHALL BE SLAVES! M. 18 December 2018
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
RULE BRITANNIA
Seldom have I seen such strength, such purposefulness shown And I have witnessed many who have made their message known, Immovable this woman stands in seas of raging tide Where friend and foe, as challengers, she’s deftly swept aside. Resolute she stands atop white cliffs of blazing chalk To glare across the Channel where her predecessors stalked In league with Winston Churchill with pugnacious jawline set When he thrashed the fiend in Jackboots and field grey appuletes. In league with Margaret Thatcher with that glint of grey in eyes To the accolades of Gorbachev who recognised the prize. In league with Boadecia the ghost of power past Who rallied this great nation to fight on to the last. Snapping at her ankles the dogs of turmoil writhe And comrades of another time amass to criticise, Labourites howl murderously to all who would take heed While the rabble rousing Europeans joust to intercede. Swirling round her skirts they mass now screaming their abuse At her articulated message of a pathway less obtuse. If Tony Blair had the ***** it’s to her side he’d dance As would Jeremy Corbett but of that there’s little chance, Her Majesty stands forthright, as do all her heirs Including Will and Harry who are cheering from the stairs. Dianna’s there in spirit plus the Kiwis from the pub And the rough crowd from the chippie all dolled up with a scrub. She needs ALL of you behind her in her struggle for the best, Independence for Great Britain is ascendancy’s great quest. The very heart of what It means to dwell within these shores The very heart of what it means to be Brittish to the core. England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales combining for the task Of a guarantee of future from the quagmire of the past. We SHALL stand behind Teresa May and make our voices heard As we scream aloud the anthem to impart our final word…. RULE BRITANNIA, BRITTANIA RULE THE WAVES BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER… SHALL BE SLAVES! Boom, boom, boom RULE BRITANNIA, BRITANNIA RULE THE WAVES BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER…. SHALL BE SLAVES! M. 18 December 2018
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Listening to the rain. Safe inside, no fear of the midnight knock on the door. I am at peace free to think my own thoughts. No pyres of burning books, no sound of jackboots coming over the hill. Only the noise of the comforting rain wild and free.
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Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
Listening To The Rain
I see you there in the corner Your voice trembling with fear And I see you there on the pedestal Your fist raised high in your patriotic fervor I see you there in the church Your body tense, in frustration, at the failure of your coin operated god I see you there in the gutters Clutching your alcoholic life preserver I see you there on the battlefield Leading the forces of Armageddon to victory And I see you there In a hospital bed Old, weak, and impotent Yes, I see you dying I see you there, having achieved your ultimate goal Fulfilling your emptiness And I see you there Under the brightly painted jackboots I see you there lighting righteous fires from your state of perdition And I see you, unconquerable In exquisite defiance As a burning testament to the strength of your revolution I see you at both ends of the gamut In strength and weakness Sickness and health Oppressed, Oppressor, and free man And I wonder how I In my alien skin Could walk among you Breathe your air, and bleed your blood But I know that I cannot So I watch as I have for ages Your beautiful drama And dream of the day you will reach out to me
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Jun 9, 2011
Jun 9, 2011 at 6:45 PM UTC
Sympathy
****** castanets - Floors sprinkled with shrapnel Under the dancer's skirt - A broken guitar Holding a flaccid hand Midstrum In it's hollow mouth - Scattered sheets of unedited poems Stained with spattered flecks of brain - Broken bottles In puddles of Chartreuse and Campari Congealing onto corpses Slouching at the bar - Jackboots kicking the viscera from their path - Searching for a poet's mortal coil So it can be shuffled Into the pyre of ideologues and deviants Protecting the oppression of this fleeting order.
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Barcelona, July 1909
i live in the real world you know the one where you just die daily don't get to play super hero or soar thro redditzen7thpatriarchterritory blazing imaginary tales jackboots on or is that Doc Martin's a blaze inglorious still dies out
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
SUPERHERO'S DO DIE THEY JUST DON'T REALIZE
So what's the statute Of limitations on racists and their statues? You've never seen a statue of ****** have you? I guess his hatred matters 'cause he killed millions of whites & Jews? But Tens of thousands of the abused & doomed Had that Jesus skin and hair: That bronze and wool. Bet you never knew! Nazis killed the handicapped, the poor, gentiles, and blacks too! On the ****** Scales of justice, white genocide blood just weighs more than ours do. But back to the racist statues: If ****** can't have one, Why should Columbus, Lee & Leverhulme? Only one reason ruptures through: Kkkers feel more affection for stone Than human blood, bones, Spines, and sinews. So no more imploring just to be refused; ****** down those statues! Use ropes knotted into a noose, Whips, chains, jackboots! Firehoses, batons, and hooves! Bring branding irons! Surround the statues! Sling slurs and abuse! Yes! It's time for each and every racist statue To taste the same treatment that black bodies do ~🖋Peacock Secrets Poetry📜
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Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 11:10 AM UTC
"Statues" of Limitations
boardroom doors, circuits open grey matter hallways where skeletons made of lightning fricassee my synapses jackboots roundup ****** dahlias deflowered, their wilted smiles rainbow the grass below with shadows cowardly dandelions roar no more, taken to see the wizard on yellow brick roads paved with the carcasses of braver kin.
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 2:30 AM UTC
Monsanto
Shrouded martyr pray for me My life of flesh comes reckoning Those whom I plot to overthrow Stand at my door Jackboots in tow
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Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
One Nation Under Duress
LOVE GAMES In your eyes I found love. Your pupils like that of a love-struck teenager with a crush. A tantalising sparkle that made my heart rush. Exciting tachycardia. Banging heart exploding, near bursting as if a blood filled balloon. His feet so tired and heavy weren't sporting his black jackboots, imagined they were ballet pumps. Walking on air. He realised his teacher cared. These role playing games entranced them. Long may they dance. (c) Livvi
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
LOVE GAMES
And I know, or at least, As much as I can hope to know, What you must have thought of me, then, Wasted on pretense with all your illusions dispelled, you watched from high above the world as a country devoured itself, and it was like all at once, It all became real for you, As the skies burned, the streets grew teeth, the police bullets fell, the infernal jackboots of the great fascist Other pressed against your door, And kicked, And kicked, And you thought this would be it, That hell had finally come to collect on all that which you owed, And I know, because I was there too, I, like you, am afraid here, And I, like you, haven’t known peace since that night, But you, desperate, Looking for a martyr, Found nothing to blame it on but me, And your eyes, My own brother’s eyes, Found nothing in mine but blood, The deep, irreconcilable blood of a whitewashed history, Misrepresented context, The propaganda of hegemony, And I let you go on, I let you make me whatever kind of monster you needed me to be, I knew then, as I do now, How badly you needed to feel once again like you were in control, That your enemy was small, and laid exposed in front of you, Begging to be destroyed, Brother, I know now that you are gone, But even through this, This impossible distance, I cannot apologize to you, Brother, Mine was never the path of reconciliation, I chose the path of strife I knew you could never follow, I don’t believe we’re going to talk our way Out of this, Or anything else, I don’t have faith in the system which gave birth to this, This endless parade of monsters, To save us from them, Brother, If you need me, I will be in the darkness with you, Not clinging to it’s walls, But trying, with every beat of my still living heart, To tear them down, So that the light may come in, Brother, Until that day comes, I will keep a candle lit for you, And when it doesn’t, You can tell me I was wrong, And I’ll reply, At least I died trying
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Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC
Sartre Stands at the Grave of Camus and Refuses to Apologize
And I know, or at least, As much as I can hope to know, What you must have thought of me, then, Wasted on pretense with all your illusions dispelled, you watched from high above the world as a country devoured itself, and it was like all at once, It all became real for you, As the skies burned, the streets grew teeth, the police bullets fell, the infernal jackboots of the great fascist Other pressed against your door, And kicked, And kicked, And you thought this would be it, That hell had finally come to collect on all that which you owed, And I know, because I was there too, I, like you, am afraid here, And I, like you, haven’t known peace since that night, But you, desperate, Looking for a martyr, Found nothing to blame it on but me, And your eyes, My own brother’s eyes, Found nothing in mine but blood, The deep, irreconcilable blood of a whitewashed history, Misrepresented context, The propaganda of hegemony, And I let you go on, I let you make me whatever kind of monster you needed me to be, I knew then, as I do now, How badly you needed to feel once again like you were in control, That your enemy was small, and laid exposed in front of you, Begging to be destroyed, Brother, I know now that you are gone, But even through this, This impossible distance, I cannot apologize to you, Brother, Mine was never the path of reconciliation, I chose the path of strife I knew you could never follow, I don’t believe we’re going to talk our way Out of this, Or anything else, I don’t have faith in the system which gave birth to this, This endless parade of monsters, To save us from them, Brother, If you need me, I will be in the darkness with you, Not clinging to it’s walls, But trying, with every beat of my still living heart, To tear them down, So that the light may come in, Brother, Until that day comes, I will keep a candle lit for you, And when it doesn’t, You can tell me I was wrong, And I’ll reply, At least I died trying
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Jackboots Exactly what are jackboots, eh? Tell me. Well, jackboots were designed by this guy, Jack, You see, because jacksneakers didn’t work And jackloafers were out of the question Jack wanted a boot everyone could hate Even though they didn’t know what it was And so anyone you don’t like wears jackboots You polish them nicely with vitriol Available at finer shops everywhere And you’re a Facist…Facsit…Fascist, dude!
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Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
Jackboots
It's true my country has turned from a place I loved into a nation of fascists one big salute... HEIL to my fascist nation I need to get the **** out of here for everything here now makes me sick I am waiting for the day when stormtroopers break down my door I need my guards close I need to stay secure No one can speak out no one can say no and they watch you and they monitor you where ever you go in this fascist nation It's not Great Britain it's ****** Britain and those in power are trying to take us down we are the enemy they have the jackboots to crush us into the ground By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 1:26 PM UTC
In This Fascist Nation
They whispered first, "The danger’s near, Protect the flag, protect the land." With trembling hands and stoked-up fear They crowned a tyrant, fierce and grand. The papers screamed of foes within, While neighbors nodded, played along. They dressed up cruelty as win, And taught the children right was wrong. Laws were penned with sly disguise, Freedom shrank with each decree. They jailed the truth and fed the lies, And sold it all as liberty. They bragged about the one pure race, Right arms outstretched, their hate aflame. While camps were built - a brutal place For those they marked with ruthless shame. The laws got sharper, paper-thin, "Protect traditions!" they proclaimed, But what they meant was: purge the sin Of every soul they tagged and named. It grew not fast, no, slow, routine, A creeping dread behind the cheer, But hate was polished - sharp, obscene, And marching boots drowned out the fear. They taught the crowd to praise each lie, To hail the fiend disguised as saint. And if one dared to ask them why; They'd brand the voice as treason's taint. The jackboots marched, elections gone, Press was muzzled, chained, and whipped. The terror just kept marching on, And people's freedom cleanly stripped. A flag was waved, the crowd obeyed, To chants of order, pride, and might, While cages filled with those they’d preyed, And mercy withered from their sight. But wait - this doesn’t echo past, Not Berlin’s streets, not Auschwitz’s gates, It’s in the headlines, crisp and fast; It's happening now in the States. See, silence writes the tyrant’s song! Don’t wait for others, YOU'RE the fight, So here’s your call: be loud, be strong, So march, and shout, and claim the night. It’s not just borders, flags, or pride, This fight is one this world must share, If freedom falls and truth has died, No corner’s safe, not anywhere. Don’t wait, don’t whisper; shout it clear! Spread truth so none believe the lies; Unite the world, let all ears hear! We fight as one, as one we rise. As Auschwitz whispers through the years, A million voices etched in flame. Their souls demand our rage, our tears, So history won't repeat its shame!
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 1:40 PM UTC
Silence Writes The Tyrant's Song
They whispered first, "The danger’s near, Protect the flag, protect the land." With trembling hands and stoked-up fear They crowned a tyrant, fierce and grand. The papers screamed of foes within, While neighbors nodded, played along. They dressed up cruelty as win, And taught the children right was wrong. Laws were penned with sly disguise, Freedom shrank with each decree. They jailed the truth and fed the lies, And sold it all as liberty. They bragged about the one pure race, Right arms outstretched, their hate aflame. While camps were built - a brutal place For those they marked with ruthless shame. The laws got sharper, paper-thin, "Protect traditions!" they proclaimed, But what they meant was: purge the sin Of every soul they tagged and named. It grew not fast, no, slow, routine, A creeping dread behind the cheer, But hate was polished - sharp, obscene, And marching boots drowned out the fear. They taught the crowd to praise each lie, To hail the fiend disguised as saint. And if one dared to ask them why; They'd brand the voice as treason's taint. The jackboots marched, elections gone, Press was muzzled, chained, and whipped. The terror just kept marching on, And people's freedom cleanly stripped. A flag was waved, the crowd obeyed, To chants of order, pride, and might, While cages filled with those they’d preyed, And mercy withered from their sight. But wait - this doesn’t echo past, Not Berlin’s streets, not Auschwitz’s gates, It’s in the headlines, crisp and fast; It's happening now in the States. See, silence writes the tyrant’s song! Don’t wait for others, YOU'RE the fight, So here’s your call: be loud, be strong, So march, and shout, and claim the night. It’s not just borders, flags, or pride, This fight is one this world must share, If freedom falls and truth has died, No corner’s safe, not anywhere. Don’t wait, don’t whisper; shout it clear! Spread truth so none believe the lies; Unite the world, let all ears hear! We fight as one, as one we rise. As Auschwitz whispers through the years, A million voices etched in flame. Their souls demand our rage, our tears, So history won't repeat its shame!
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