"machiavelli" poems
Niccolo di bernardo di Machiavelli
Ang taong may pera ngunit di makabili
Ng mga bagay para sa kanyang sarili
Inuuna parati ang bisyong pambababae
Ngunit kelan ba ang araw na nagkaroon ka ng *****
Akoy nagtataka dahil Pogi ka naman di lang halata
Nakikita kitang laging sawi, Ang sagot mo “sa susunod nalang babawi”
Paulit ulit at parati, di ka nagsasawa laging may pili
Niccolo, Niccolo, ang buhay mo man ay magulo
May makapagbagbagbagbag damdaming kwento
Tagus sa balat at sagad buto
Hanep ang yong liriko, liriko
Niccolo, Niccolo, ang isipan **** magulo
Sa larangang paborito Kakaibang istilo mo, Niccolò
Babangon Ilang beses man madapa,
Ang pangarap mo ay makukuwa
Pagkat ang sipag moy di matutumbasan
Apak apakan ka man ng sino man,
Walang kang pake alam, bastat deretso kalang
At sa iyong pananaw, prinsipyong di maagaw
Isip Di mababaw, pagkat ayaw mo ng hilaw
Dahil....
Niccolo, Niccolo, ang buhay mo man ay magulo
May makapagbagbagbagbag damdaming kwento
Tagus sa balat at sagad buto
Hanep ang yong liriko, liriko
Niccolo, Niccolo, ang isipan **** magulo
Sa larangang paborito Kakaibang istilo mo, Niccolò
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:02 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldret, Kenya;[email protected])
Do you remember one era in Kenya?
During the dark days of dictatorship
When Daniel arap Moi
Was the tyrannical president of Kenya
And darkness of leadership
Loomed like the dark clouds of el Niño
When forty district commissioners
Out of the total of forty two were kalenjins?
Whose main work was to spy and terrorize
As the people forlornly groaned under the heavy
Yoke of state terror of tribal torment
When the president claims that
He was not aware of such tyranny,
When we used to sing a lame poem
Of jokoo! Jokoo! Jokoo! Jokoo!
On empty stomachs with no hope of food
No hope of jobs or even education
Street children swelling on the street
In total political nonchalance of arap Moi
As he only gave free milk to his own kalenjin youths
In Kabaraka schools, the Kabaraka school which was
Overfunded by the poor tax payers money,
Please President Uhuru Kenyatta as good as you are
With your dear humane heart of Bantu conscience
As you are armed to teeth with modern education
**** sapiens Gentility and polished diplomacy
Superb in quality of thought and supremacy of choices
The government of Kenya is yours and the people of Kenya
Are your political darlings, true bandwagons for ever
Kindly listen and buy my poemetics, my dear president
Remove Daniel Moi from the state house of Kenya,
Let not Daniel Moi be your adviser
Ignore him and embrace Kenyans
For common future happiness
Even if Daniel Moi is old, the truth is different
He is not a good man, he is full of Machiavelli
His full badness is measured in absurdity
Of terribly and horrendously crashed *** crushed
Testicles of poemcrats and political leaders
Of Kenya of yore and today,
Truth meted in When koigi wa wamwere became
A permanent staff of kamiti maximum prison without pension
Wangari Mathai beaten like an animal in a hunters trap
Ngugi wa Thiong’o jobless and detained without trial
Raila Amolo odinga’s testicles went missing
He looks for them on daily circadian
But once he nears their political pigeonhole
Then elections of the times flops, O! Poor Odinga!
President Uhuru Kenyatta with your suave intellect
You won’t get a pretext to say that
I was not aware or not informed
Please dear darling of the people
The people of Kenya in their 42 tribes
Novate Moi with the people
And your legacy will smile.
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
*I'm tired
And since I'm not eating
Then my energy
Is non-existing
I'm barely keeping my eyes open
As I type in the words
For this poem.
I'm trying not to make typos,
But it's hard when you only see
A cloudy version of the keyboard
Since your eyelids are slowly closing.
Outside people are enjoying
The sun
Which for once
Are shining over Denmark
But I'm just sitting inside
The University of Copenhagen
Occupying myself
So that there's no time
For crying
I bought myself a new book
One by Niccolò Machiavelli
I plan to read it
In the holiday
And I'm really looking forward to this
Since through the last four years
People have often recommended me
To read it...
So while Green Day's "Panic Song" is playing
On my headphones
I'll finish my poem
And return to my book
'Cause though I'm tempted
Then I can't keep wasting my time
Writing poems
Just to I keep myself occupied.
Maybe I'll take the book
And go read outside
In the sunshine...*
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
Tingly under the daisies;
Glassy-eyed, glazed, greasy;
Shaking, shivering, shuddering,
Wishing, wandering, whimpering,
Westernizing—
Romanizing—
Constitutionalizing—
Institutionalizing—
Perpetually searching
And dying
And living,
Watching Death survive
And scythe the frolickers,
The prancers,
The rompers,
The merrymakers.
A rose clamped between his
Grinning teeth glistens brightly,
And he dances so joyously.
“Yes!” say the naysayers,
Confused are the soothsayers,
Lost are the cartographers.
Oh, Utopia!
The monks are extravagant;
The meditations are a farce!
The preachers are beggars
And swindlers and chargers,
And Machiavelli fulfills his wishes!
Babies are stillborn, stabbed, and
Ritualistically sacrificed,
And their blood is spilled, drunk,
Slathered over the ***** man.
The evangelists scream and lie:
“You are all predestined to die!”
Oh, hail Utopia!
Wedded are the girls to the girls;
Wedded are the boys to the boys;
Wedded is Death to Death,
Life to Life,
And Life to Death.
Wedded are the living to the existent.
And the milking babes are slaughtered
Ceremoniously,
Surreptitiously,
Ostentatiously.
Oh, hail great Utopia!
We are all dead and unintelligent:
Laugh, laugh, Einstein, at your
Stupidity.
Laugh, laugh, Temple Grandin at
Your retardation.
Laugh, laugh, laugh!
Look at the sluggard, thou ant;
Look at the boy, sobbing wolf;
Aesop was drunk,
Aristotle was delusional,
Michelangelo was blind,
Beethoven could hear,
Poe was sane.
And I can't read.
They ramble,
I watch.
They sleep,
I watch.
They dream,
I watch.
They sleep-talk,
I watch.
They scream,
I watch.
They choke,
I watch.
They suffocate,
I watch.
Stone-faced, I stare;
Raspingly, I breathe;
Uncontrollably, I twitch;
Inwardly, I rage.
I hope you die, I hope you die.
I hope you bleed, I hope you die.
I want you begging and crying,
I want you blubbering at my feet,
I want you gnashing at my ankles,
I want you writhing in pain,
I want your arm twisted off,
Cracking with the snapping sinews, I want your beating heart in my hands, I want your genitals uprooted and stuffed in your throat, I want your stomach so I can eat the still-digesting food, I want your shrunken head and I want to force my thumbs into your unblinking eyes and I want to tear your face in two and I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Trump and Brexit,
Two beautiful scrolls in a sync
Singing a song of white nationalism
On the crest in the Ivy League station,
Busy Muffling the **** drop sounds
On the bowls of foot-loose beggars,
A lesson for you dark son of Africa
That tomfoolery is no defense before
The rational altar of Trump and Brexit
Riding on followership’s bitter hangover
For the Nostalgia of the waning glory,
Sired by Machiavelli, groomed by ******
Festooned by Mussolini into a Jim Crow tor,
But fault not them, that is politics or religion,
Always sweet only in full gear of power-piety,
Then Nurture your tiny ***** for no pawn earns it,
To pile your wood for pharaonic winter is obvious
In paranoia of Brexit and Trumpish megalomania
Coming in a stampede with Tigre’s thorax, only
To worry us for nothing as it is the fear of change
Truly, they are not the first clouds in the sky
Of global terror and politics of self-idolatry,
Soon to vamoose in service to their nature
Of aureate appearing to whimpering fade,
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Both were indifferent
To moral considerations
Both used tricks and lies
That tested people’s patience
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Political expediency
Lacking in morality
And both had a thing
For pluralities
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Both used extremely
Dishonest methods
And both were lacking
In basic ethics
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Both were cunning
And had no moral code
And history has shown
What that forebodes
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
She drew back the velvet curtain
Flashed her wicked smile
Wild jet black locks cascading
The judge adjourned my trial
She's a reluctant ****** addict
When she's not on crack
I'm her eager means to an end
Achieved on her back
Condensation on the mirror ceiling
I'm not unique ****
"Times up' you ***** big **** *******
Flattery helps me come
Both her and I thirst sedation
from this clinical love
Lights turned to blinding bright
An angel from above?
I often forget I'm in love with her
Reality makes me wince
I turn to see her ("now, **** off!") face
over her copy of "The Prince".
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 7:41 AM UTC
Machiavelli spoke of prophets, and surmised that it is only those prophets armed by something that have seen their message spread.
Arm me then, arm me with your nightmares and your suffering and your nights filled with wailing at the sky.
Arm me with the anorexic teenage Americans, with the empty eyes of the Afghani fellahina, with the broken hopes of a ********** in Juarez.
Give me your shame at the mirror's lies, give me your self-inflicted scars, give me that loathing for yourself.
Give me that need for one more shot, give me that hopelessness after *** give me the knowledge that Mom is never coming back.
Clothe me with the skins of a hundred thousand suicides, pour over me the tears of a million hungry souls, burn me with the fire of ten million hearts broken under the heel of a monstrous tyrant.
Do these things, and you will see us become what you've been afraid of all these years.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Hegel’s Hero in Dream
Hegel’s Hero appeared with video of heroes
To teach me Ideas and dialectics in society;
I saw there, Lions and Foxes of Machiavelli
Fighting , growling , springing from bushes.
Aimless Dame Fortune moves in history past
Politics of India, snowy, foggy, and shadowy!
Shivering men squat passive keeping “ID card”
As Greek slaves, before the Democratic Lords.
General Will ,as Rousseau says ,forms society,
Nation, Governments based on Ideas extant.
Lords, and the wealthy ruled rudely the ruled
In the past, as history moved as cruelly as fast.
God’s own Universe sans universal concept
On Peace; builds walls around each groups.
Religions fail to link the parted and parched
People who worship vicious Cain and Mammon .
Marx, Engels , and Mao came with the legions
Stumbled, humbled and stifled by the Mammons.
Buddha, Christ and the Prophet Mohammad
Told of Love, Grace, Patience and of Pardon
My Lord, why, we fail to wipe tears and fears?
“Sambhavami yuge yuge” says hazy, Hegel fades.
parithranaya sadhunam/ vinasaya cha dushkritham/
dharmmasamsthapanardhaya/sambhavami yuge yuge.
When in India can we expect such a Hero:Kalki,in Kali?
To be trapped, jailed as terrorist protestant, really!
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
His dead!
I suspect Nietzsche did it in morality with a book;
I suspect Platon did it in birth with stillbirth;
I suspect Machiavelli did it on Ruling with the ends to justify the means;
I suspect Darwin did it in Galápagos with birds;
I suspect Scientists did it in laboratories with stem cells;
I suspect Romans did it in Golgotha with a cross;
I suspect Jews did it in Gethsemane with Judas;
I suspect Christians did it in Spain with inquisition;
I suspect Muslims did in New York with a plane;
I suspect Adolf did it in Poland with gas;
I suspect Stalin did it in Siberia with gulags;
I suspect United states did it in Hiroshima with a bomb;
I suspect United nations did it in wars by looking away;
I suspect God did it in Heaven by suicide;
I suspect I did it here with a poem
I suspect You did it.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
His SSN provided on the death certificate
Is not registered in the Social Security Death Index
The autopsy is a fake
The weight and height did not match
Neither did the tattoos
Niccolo Machiavelli
Faked his death at 25
And returned at 43
To fool his enemies
Tupac turned 43 in 2014
Well I hope he is living in peace somewhere
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
cold it,s.
fluid hard apathy,
the sky drank lubed heat
pasted frosty hands
and
gargled chirping rushes
a brown
stiffly
who's arms hold
fussy ******
a book is patiently
palm loaded notation
machiavelli
today,
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 2:02 AM UTC
How it all started I cant quite remember
The only thing that's left, a fragment of memory, a piece, an ember.
I pleaded, I begged the God to think of a little child that is being destroyed, I begged him to react before in me the only thing that would be left was a big void.
But God remained cold, there is no way to cure the wounds of old.So I ve rotten for a couple of years, tried to heal my wounds with yeast and tears.
And nothing came abought, only a deep saddened drought. My soul was slowly crushed by a false mission, with a ban to sign my petition.
I've sat on the cold trone to know how it feels, nothing in that imaginary belief is real.
Witches serve the rulers that claim they're bold, pretending to be divine but inside contain only mold.
And this Earth spins, there is no other way, but for us, petty fools to be dismayed. Puppeteers pull their strings, so we can forcefully bow down and kiss their rings.
What kind of idiots do you think we are?,
Do you really think all schemes go that far?
Sad alone, abandoned, without any hope, We go out and accept these monsters only to be hanged by a rope.
Call them Psychopaths, Borderlines, Narcs,
They give a bad name even to sharks.
But every thing that rises needs to fall.
But before they do, they'll try to silence us all.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
you make me
a self fulfilling prophecy
so well played
you'd hand his ****
to machiavelli
what you don't see
is all you'll lose
to claim your bounty
what you taught me
is that you have to die
for my life to have had meaning
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
Prepare bloodshed
Im tired of being a thorough bred
All eyes on me
Take heed to words that's said
They hate me
Cuz they aint black like me
Bow down this t h u g
Recognize my game
Bring more flames than end times
Listen to me ******
The world is mine as shine my nine
Anyone who jump see the flat line
Never left the battle grounds
Straight boot camps
Lived off of food stamps with tramps
Broke the mold now im feelin' bold
**** brothers multiply
Got every ghetto in the nation high
And watch the birds fly
South for the December
Ill make a massacre that'll make ya remember
Yosef been equipped with game
So **** the fame let my ***** hang
These fools aint ready for war
Cuz once i hit it'll no longer be an even score
Now that got yo attention
What these fool know about **** life?
Every playa hata wanna be like
Me the underground ghetto king
This is a rap ghetto blues so ya can cling
Into my raw raps preaching apocalypse
Reachin' in my pockets for mo bullets
So i can empty clips
INTO ya mind fool break the slavery chains
I aint never been a toby
Bow down like ya owe half these *******
Is phony
Claims they ya friends but when ya hit the pen
They blowing in the wind
And **** paris them aint down for us
Got eve ry dumb ***** puttin' up the red white n blue pic
**** them bigots they can eat a ****
Sweatin' my ****
Cuz bringin back that **** ****
Never fall back retraced my steps n now im.back
To where it all begins
Birthed unto this world its daily sin
I cant get a break cuz they aint no fate
I'm just waitin' for right time
To retaliate set my own date date
Sike im machiavelli
Reincarnated as a mack 11
Burn all my enemies til they flesh is cremated
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
Students of Machiavelli perjure the body politic , meanwhile the Calvary arrives on scene , Constables attack in every direction , the Sheep fall back , redirect ! Mushroom Barristers appear , stand tall , feed amongst dung and debris ... Prophet picking fungi weeping meeting and taking pictures for magazines and Good Morning America , fumigate the cracks and crevices between each building , fingerprint , humiliate , declare open season , flip the truth to make it palatable , taser shoot to **** then kangaroo court back at headquarters .. Shot in the back , point blank , taser from behind , with hands up or down in plain view , in pockets , in public or in secret and live at five ! Who's shooting who on the six o'clock news and who's putting the screws on the law and the truth , a crying mother , an angry brother it's Beirut 2.0 up in this ************ ! ..........
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
1
I can no longer justify Machiavelli with romance
Months of missing you and our terrible glee
You were right—fuck me.
3
My friend who loves my garbage heart
I dread the day we toss out the ruse
Inevitably one of us will choose
2
If the world was fair, you’d be 1 on this page
For memory of simplicity, pure, shared
I’d trade 1, 3, and 4 and let three be spared
4
You are what proves I was never in distress
I don’t love you, I don’t like to keep you
Even though you give yourself up to me when I do
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
*I died
But only for some days
Then I came back to life
And made the choice
To change...
I'll remove everything
Which makes me feel
Like someone is stabbing
My heart...
I'll delete the memories
And the thoughts
Which pulls
Me down...
I won't bother about it
Anymore...
I won't worry about him
Either...
I won't let this heartbreak
Tear me apart
I'll just delete the me
Who was in love
With him...
I will go back
To who I was before
But I'll never be the same
'Cause I've learned so much
That I have changed...
But I won't worry 'bout him
Won't think about him
When I'm in school
I'll go back
To focus on my homework
And the class...
I'll patch my heart together
Lots of fishes in the sea
As my mom says
But pearls are hard to find...
I've gotten stronger
I've learned new things
About friendship
'Cause friends really are there
When you need them...
I found out
That I had a thing for
Machiavelli's politics
And that I'm actually more punk
Than even I
Would believe...
I discovered
So much about myself
These last couple of months
Crying about that
I can not...
So though I might be hurt
I'm still a little grateful
'Cause I have learned so much
From a person
Who I no longer
Know...
Simple plan once sang
"Don't wanna be told
To grow up,
'Cause I'm not gonna change
I just wanna have fun"
I've always lived my life
After these lines...
But even I have to realise
That staying true to those words
Is a harder task than I
Ever would have thought...
Because I don't know
Where life it'll lead me
'Cause some things in life
Will affect me...
So yeah, I might not want
To grow up
But neither am I
Peter Pan
I can't travel to Neverland
I'll age physically...
So one day
I'll grow up,
But that doesn't mean
That the time is now
'Cause I'm still young...
So yeah, I died
But I rebuilt myself
Now I've changed
Due to things
Which I've learned
I died,
But now I've
Returned...*
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
I could call ghosts
Closer, yearning for youth
If they were afraid of affection
Machiavelli
Hey, they couldn't feel our love
For Raphael too
They couldn't paint white on our faces
Pale as the moonlight
Fearful of the darkness
In case it overshadows the sun
In the blindness
Which is a touch truant
Incurring divinity
Keeps us from our stars
And luck keeps us in ours
Luck, Celestial
Flows through the solar system
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
I remember it like yesterday,
my heart stopped dead,
.45 cal laser sighted Glock to my head,
She was a queen with the green,but the heart of Medusa,
ruler of the crew,I was the one to ****** her,
but a snake in the garden,a stone in her heart,
one fake Machiavelli tried to push us apart
Didn't realise the depths of the Celtic connections,
the Queen wasn't with the Skitz just for my ********
she was a foresighted,hard headed a back breakin ruler,
with a wicked last grin for the man who would fool her,
Tools she would use were an Inquisitors nightmare,
to be true to you my new crew,the Sandman was scared,
but prepared for Armageddon on the way-well prepared,
cause the Sandman's backup was a .50 cal long style,
it wasn't me who was facin' the Death Mask Smile
x2 hard rocks,tough guys-those who face death daily,
surround me,propound my senses never fail me,
never know whats comin'- watch your back big style ,
it could be you that faces the Death Mask Smile.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
A subwoofer and an altar.
Decorations and a substance to make it so holy.
Thou preacheth and thou washeth away.
The ball drops and I become a man, I survive cancer.
I begin to wear dresses.
Examining myself in the magic mirror.
Wondering what it is that makes the mythos.
The mythos involving difficulty and strife when speaking of womanhood.
Staring at the ceiling brings a thought. Wipe the mote from my eye. A pale horse approaches. A scab remains unhealed. A bruise is formed. A question.
Thus...
I'm asked how it went.
And I wonder what it was I chose to share.
What was it I chose to separate my memory from?
I refrain.
A drink in my left hand and a drink in my right hand.
The door buckles. Machiavelli. Police. Jilted exes.
I am afraid for one half second.
I forget for one half second that I am calm and tranquil water.
I forget for a second that a beast rests at the base of my skull.
I remember to be grateful.
I look down at my pens and smile.
I look up and sever the necks which once felt so proud and so soft.
Tearing limbs from sockets I find peace.
I find love.
I find undstanding.
And I can't stress enough this cadence.
One half of a whole.
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
Kelly, not Machiavelli,
Did puncture my skin, to get the line in,
For her I am grateful, would never be hateful.
Impressed with her skill, I’d not wish her ill.
I hope she ever will find, great peace of mind,
Doing her best, even when stressed.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 7:01 AM UTC
Beyond bewildered that one of class
empowered by playing politics.
Dare now to claim ground so far distance
from democractic vote as good practise .
Rule; a shameful parade dressed in colours
and ideology popular hued
resplendently stained by party failures
to engage despite pressed powers used.
Influence from Baron's of paper print
devoted to preserving the city state.
Machiavelli and power of the prince
Used against democracy as vile hate
That we demos, the people, maintain
the laws that protect as one, the same
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
a half-baked ******
copper-skinned
diddly-squat!
a camel-jockey -
and i am
spat!
copper-nuance -
and then, a *******
browny.
truce with squint asiatic
calls for being fidgety...
bubbly blue:
peter fetishist square army branding...
corpus tattoo!
and that's leder...
in the koran...
that's pig less palette
and more shoelace...
i mean:
pig froth shoe...
rather than:
********** karma: brevity ****
and when god was worshipped,
man said: pig's crew
and i used Aztec tongues
for shoelaces...
Machiavelli in Egypt...
hating bacon
and everything's a rainbow.
return to: a shoe.
then again that allahu akbar...
pigs are dried-out prunes...
so are shackles,
belts... and a whipping cult...
and other stratas of glue...
loss convening: satirical bacon.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 9:04 PM UTC