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"marxist" poems
I though he carried the light where words would illuminate driving me to a euphoric ****** a man without a face or a trace unhindered in a double live and lies a bubble of psychotic psychic surety his passion was an addiction my reservations moved a notch addicted to a body of ideology the stances of philosophical terms uncovering ancient possibilities the unfelt mysteries of history veiled in icicles of pretence and lies as if a Marxist, a closet bourgeoise The stoicism of present bargains questioning Socrates and morality reasons a fatal dose ,examining the unexamined as colourful as his mind blew my inner glow he was lost in sad and low dialogues afraid to face the earthly shallow shadows yet his spirits moved deep within mine and it paralysed and fed on my energy and his delusion became my seduction but he woke my inner poetic tongue letting it caress all his inner wounds A shadow hiding behind Frankenstein’s a sly monster who lied to my eyes ghosting in with the a pen that weakens romancing with letters of a fiery doom a penpal whom I met within my lowest but whose words lay in a deep unending quarry his warmth I could never ever tell his kiss only a draft on the dewy grass
0
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
2. Declarations on a window sill (series)
Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right **** dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Employ all caps and strings of exclamation marks ad lib
0
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
Adults Debate Safe Schools
Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right **** dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Employ all caps and strings of exclamation marks ad lib
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2
I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region. I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion; I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman. I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist; I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist. I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina, A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner. I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later," I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader. I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker, A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker. I am a salesman and clerk, A criminal and a serf, The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth. I am a drinker and smoker, A consumer and broker, A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper. I am a Citizen. Religious and secular, Macrocosmic, molecular, Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular, A "packie," a **** a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee; A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus, History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us. The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted; It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted. Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic, An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip, A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician, A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist, An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic; I am a citizen, And as one, I'm elastic.
0
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:35 PM UTC
I am a Citizen.
I am a Province, a State, a Municipality, and a Region. I am a Soldier, a Pilot, a Minister, and a Legion; I am a black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A French man, American, Canadian, and Roman. I am a rap artist, a singer, a slam poet and guitarist; I dabble in the dark arts accompanied by a Marxist. I'm a barista, a gas man, a secretary, and Tsarina, A King and a Queen and a janitorial cleaner. I am a "lover," a "hater," a "here now" and "there later," I am Luke Skywalker, yet at the same time, Lord Vader. I am a driver, a walker, a rider, a stalker, A conservative liberal and a well-learned straight-talker. I am a salesman and clerk, A criminal and a serf, The proud owner of a weapon that, while it kills, saves the Earth. I am a drinker and smoker, A consumer and broker, A bomb-maker, con-artist, Priest, and interloper. I am a Citizen. Religious and secular, Macrocosmic, molecular, Suit wearing, uncaring, emphatic, irregular, A "packie," a **** a Scrabble fan playing Yahtzee; A Jihadist, sadistic, addicted to Herodotus, History is repeated by the philosopher that thought of us. The eroticist literature towards which we've all lusted; It looks like the bullets machine-gun is busted. Indifferent, ecstatic, illicett, erratic, An infant, a senior, a young man with bad-lip, A black man, a white man, a brown man, a woman, A Jew and a Christian, a Muslim musician, A monarch, elitist, pro-abortion defeatist, An anarchist, Black Panther, and a rich plutocratic; I am a citizen, And as one, I'm elastic.
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36
The Peace Process I don’t know where I'm going with this but there is peace in Colombia, the Marxist rebels lost and their **** women soldiers in green fatigue and weapons in arms will hand it all in for fashion magazines Hair- dressing salons and babies in arms. For women, a change from war to peace is easy to make it will be worse for men who feel inferior without guns. If Texas as an example had been a gun free zone you would have ended up with tall queens as cowhands, or what do I know left their oil wells and gone to Montana So why did the Marxist lose, ******* I think more economical beneficial, cash in hands better than a Marxist bible on the roof 28 years of peace the political parties in Colombia will have no consensus as the blamed is car mechanics or ranchers Everything is possible from the first female president in Colombia or and openly gay governor in Texas. Festive dresses and bulls with flowers on horns will be marching down the Avenue in Houston.
0
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 4:57 AM UTC
the peace process
*a child is born free of mind but is hardened into thought and by the time one dies most are fixed and ******* into worlds of their making, heavens of their fantasies* so one thinks one's an Indian, one a Chinese or an American or British or Swedish or French or Russian or German; or one thinks one is a Christian or Muslim or Jew or Hindu or Sikh or Catholic or Doaist or Buddhist or Marxist or Communist or even for that matter, an atheist - or whatever you will... one finds a badge to pin proudly to one's chest and each identity becomes so strong it becomes so real it all comes into the question of right and wrong of evil and good and it falls into loud declamations and my tribe is good, your tribe is evil my brand is holy, your brand unholy... and so it goes, with all sorts of justifications that beat sense out of all loyal adherents and it squeezes humanity out of the human as paste out of a tube... ah, and yes, the energy goes on into the afterlife as Christians go into a Christian Heaven and Hindus and Buddhists into various Lokas and Muslims in their own Paradise and so it goes on, this Human Tragi-Comedy, yes, yes, certainly all created by the Almighty who was created by your mind's poverty so that a child is born free of mind but is hardened into thought and by the time one dies most are fixed and ******* into worlds of their making, heavens of their fantasies
0
Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
a child is born free of mind
"The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall." --Che Guevara Shake the tree as hard as need be, To make the apple fall, Be it green, or red or yellow, Be it ripe or still too green, Succulent or rotten to the core, Shake the tree and make it fall. If shaking the tree does not suffice, Plant a worm most carefully, Let it eat the apple's heart, Break its spirit as it feeds, Sap its strength most thoroughly, then just wait until it falls. But if that tactic also fails, don't lose heart, Rip out the tree's protective bark, Salt its roots, Strike it with chains, Until no beauty remains, And await the apple's fall. And should the ****** tree still stand, And the apple cling to life, Take an axe, Sharpen it well, Chop at the tree, bring it down, Force the apple to the ground. And should the apple still cling, To a branch devoid of life, Douse the shattered, useless tree With gasoline, light a match, And burn apple, branch and tree, All to gloriously fine ash. Do this always in my name, For "If you tremble with indignation at every injustice, Then you are a comrade of mine." Wear my face with pride over your heart, Shake raised fists in indignation, scatter the ashes to the wind, What does it matter that ashes can't be eaten, so long as we win! If interested, you can hear my reading of this poem at https://open.spotify.com/episode/6MlOmVvH3n8QehG1dzH4Za?si=MWl_rE0YQLy3bQvS8dbtOA Author's Note: No political philosophy has wreaked as much misery as Marxism in every country it has touched in the 20th and 21st centuries. Fascism and Marxism are two sides of the same totalitarian coin, and while we rightfully condemn fascists, somehow too many folks in the media, academia, and entertainment worlds continue to have a soft spot for Marxism and Marxists/Communists old and new. Here, I've taken two quotes attributed to Che Guevara whose life has been romanticized in books and movies, including the popular Motorcycle Diaries, that focus on the young revolutionary in a positive light as a freedom fighter. The real revolutionary was quite different--a hardened, cold-blooded murderer who executed countless people without mercy, due process, or regret, including fellow Marxist revolutionaries who disagreed with him. The end justified the means for him and for all Marxists--and their equally deranged polar opposites, fascists.
0
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
Che Guevara and the Fruit of the Marxist Revolution
"The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall." --Che Guevara Shake the tree as hard as need be, To make the apple fall, Be it green, or red or yellow, Be it ripe or still too green, Succulent or rotten to the core, Shake the tree and make it fall. If shaking the tree does not suffice, Plant a worm most carefully, Let it eat the apple's heart, Break its spirit as it feeds, Sap its strength most thoroughly, then just wait until it falls. But if that tactic also fails, don't lose heart, Rip out the tree's protective bark, Salt its roots, Strike it with chains, Until no beauty remains, And await the apple's fall. And should the ****** tree still stand, And the apple cling to life, Take an axe, Sharpen it well, Chop at the tree, bring it down, Force the apple to the ground. And should the apple still cling, To a branch devoid of life, Douse the shattered, useless tree With gasoline, light a match, And burn apple, branch and tree, All to gloriously fine ash. Do this always in my name, For "If you tremble with indignation at every injustice, Then you are a comrade of mine." Wear my face with pride over your heart, Shake raised fists in indignation, scatter the ashes to the wind, What does it matter that ashes can't be eaten, so long as we win! If interested, you can hear my reading of this poem at https://open.spotify.com/episode/6MlOmVvH3n8QehG1dzH4Za?si=MWl_rE0YQLy3bQvS8dbtOA Author's Note: No political philosophy has wreaked as much misery as Marxism in every country it has touched in the 20th and 21st centuries. Fascism and Marxism are two sides of the same totalitarian coin, and while we rightfully condemn fascists, somehow too many folks in the media, academia, and entertainment worlds continue to have a soft spot for Marxism and Marxists/Communists old and new. Here, I've taken two quotes attributed to Che Guevara whose life has been romanticized in books and movies, including the popular Motorcycle Diaries, that focus on the young revolutionary in a positive light as a freedom fighter. The real revolutionary was quite different--a hardened, cold-blooded murderer who executed countless people without mercy, due process, or regret, including fellow Marxist revolutionaries who disagreed with him. The end justified the means for him and for all Marxists--and their equally deranged polar opposites, fascists.
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39
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
Alexander K OPICHO (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) from north in Kaduna of Okigbo to south in the Rhoben Island of Mazizi Kunene and D M Zwelonke who sang the song of Shaka; in Zulu Heroism that beautified our face in the armpit of Ezkia Mphalele, the sons of Africa in the knighthood of poetry,chantery and incantations you are hailed with with glory and dignity for your service to humanity your service to literature and gods of poetry in the spirit of the song that we chant in the spirit of love and peace the glory of hour heritage is an eyesore to the lazy ; who though ill will can stop the flow of African river, Sing our songs and chant our spirituals as you write our poems open your poetic ***** for the world is a ****** in which the seed of African poetry will plummet and flower to glory of man the essence of Godliness, Let Soyinka and Achebe sing our songs without fear of home As Okot P' Btek revamps from the ashes like a phoenix to re-plant the bumpkin in the old homestead of Taban Lo Liyong Who sang the cacotpic song in the dystopia of black diaspora when he saw another ****** dead in the guest for Nocturnes of Senghor who feared Marxist poetry and African songs which Aime Cesaire chanted in the mayoralty of Paris.
0
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
ode to the African Poets
Minnow, go to sleep and dream, Close your great big eyes; Round your bed Events prepare The pleasantest surprise. Darling Minnow, drop that frown, Just cooperate, Not a kitten shall be drowned In the Marxist State. Joy and Love will both be yours, Minnow, don't be glum. Happy days are coming soon-- Sleep, and let them come...
0
4.6k
Lullaby For The Cat
the nature of this night spreads its thin harvest upon my table a gruel and water porridge feast with the fanfares of her jaundiced hand many more lined up with eager grin for the warmth of paupers kinship thin blanket wrapped round our shoulders snow gathers at feet she captures the moment on paper the image of all of us gathered like when we were young the grandiose illustration with its brilliant colour fanfare with jugglers and wine swilling laughing men blinded by drink chorus line of female dancers who wear costumes of the hundred years war lead the assault on the last bastions of the ignorance of bliss all descrying that we can ill afford to be sleeping while empires are built in our namesake the so daintily shod soldiers whos feminine wiles misunderstood have taken over the dancehall beneath us and have taken up song the grandiose illustration caught by her pen on sketch pad has leanings to the Marxist revolutions and philosophys of the rhetorical but in the end we join them and drink the port sing the song a thousand years of tales to be told in the eyes of a single girls sweet thoughts epic landscapes filled with noble men and storybook girls the grandiose illustration shows the two of us on the beach with the sun racing down to touch the high towers of miami and fill the laughing joys of thouse who toss and tumble in the breaking waves the nature of this night in one small corner of the illustration a simple window with the shade drawn that says goodnight
0
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
storm warnings
the nature of this night spreads its thin harvest upon my table a gruel and water porridge feast with the fanfares of her jaundiced hand many more lined up with eager grin for the warmth of paupers kinship thin blanket wrapped round our shoulders snow gathers at feet she captures the moment on paper the image of all of us gathered like when we were young the grandiose illustration with its brilliant colour fanfare with jugglers and wine swilling laughing men blinded by drink chorus line of female dancers who wear costumes of the hundred years war lead the assault on the last bastions of the ignorance of bliss all descrying that we can ill afford to be sleeping while empires are built in our namesake the so daintily shod soldiers whos feminine wiles misunderstood have taken over the dancehall beneath us and have taken up song the grandiose illustration caught by her pen on sketch pad has leanings to the Marxist revolutions and philosophys of the rhetorical but in the end we join them and drink the port sing the song a thousand years of tales to be told in the eyes of a single girls sweet thoughts epic landscapes filled with noble men and storybook girls the grandiose illustration shows the two of us on the beach with the sun racing down to touch the high towers of miami and fill the laughing joys of thouse who toss and tumble in the breaking waves the nature of this night in one small corner of the illustration a simple window with the shade drawn that says goodnight
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38
You could say she was classless like a Marxist utopia.
0
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Classless (10w)
"What the **** Why is it that as soon as a topic gets religious there are contradictions every third word? Christian punk; although Punk is Anarchistic and Marxist; christian Punk isn't." Jesus ******* Christ.
0
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 8:02 AM UTC
Christian punk isn't
We do not pine for just one day where the markets, morality, or technology tune themselves in perfect harmony We say the future's now if we unite in just one way: **the acknowledgment that we have the will and machinery to feed, clothe, house, and heal every human being** Who cares if they find a wage Let's "let anyone follow their dreams" be the creed of Earthlings I'll have much more a fun time going to my neighbor's for beers if they spent their days doing what their inner child intended Pipe dream, much? Acknowledgment our task's a process another must, even when we feel so close What's your story other than the idea that authority's some natural right? The Government and the Propertied Working together or against each other forever in eternity (the Capitalists are the biggest Marxist narrow minds who refuse to hear Karlo's ending)
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
The Letter "A"
How do we create a system in which women are really free? Is that we want undefined freedom where we have no men and we hve what lesbians have? Or do we want the same equal rights as men? We as feminist cannot be so narrow minded +Liberal feminists want women to have the same equal rights as men. Are they not the same women who want their men to be all-male and masculine? +Marxist/socialist feminists focuses on investigating and explaining the ways in which women are oppressed through systems of capitalism and private property. According to Marxist feminists, women's liberation can only be achieved through a radical restructuring of the current capitalist economy in which much of women's labor is uncompensated. For these women, do not realize that they are the ones who chose to became mother's and end up with the 'unpaid compensation' of taking care of the child that comes along. Radical feminism blames men entirely on the exploitation. If there was no men, would we have been as happy as expected if we were to really revolutionize this system, of oppression, capitalism,discrimination and exploitayion. As women, it is always right to fight for what we believe in. But it is the truth that we should fight for, justice and peace among men. Exploits made my men over years have cause women, who are considered'by nature' to be subject class , to think that they are really less than men. ?In truth, we are made from the same flesh and organs just as them. Is it not us females who bleed once a month, bears children and cope with the problems that comes with the family we have to grow and breed? We are strong enough but at the end of the day we need someone to submissive to and that should only ne the lawful wedded husband that the Lord himself has granted us with. We are called to be strong but submissive when the time and place comes as there is a time and place for everything understand. Strong and submissive should be our mission without being confused by men and that is the type of feminism we should live by.
0
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
Feminism
How do we create a system in which women are really free? Is that we want undefined freedom where we have no men and we hve what lesbians have? Or do we want the same equal rights as men? We as feminist cannot be so narrow minded +Liberal feminists want women to have the same equal rights as men. Are they not the same women who want their men to be all-male and masculine? +Marxist/socialist feminists focuses on investigating and explaining the ways in which women are oppressed through systems of capitalism and private property. According to Marxist feminists, women's liberation can only be achieved through a radical restructuring of the current capitalist economy in which much of women's labor is uncompensated. For these women, do not realize that they are the ones who chose to became mother's and end up with the 'unpaid compensation' of taking care of the child that comes along. Radical feminism blames men entirely on the exploitation. If there was no men, would we have been as happy as expected if we were to really revolutionize this system, of oppression, capitalism,discrimination and exploitayion. As women, it is always right to fight for what we believe in. But it is the truth that we should fight for, justice and peace among men. Exploits made my men over years have cause women, who are considered'by nature' to be subject class , to think that they are really less than men. ?In truth, we are made from the same flesh and organs just as them. Is it not us females who bleed once a month, bears children and cope with the problems that comes with the family we have to grow and breed? We are strong enough but at the end of the day we need someone to submissive to and that should only ne the lawful wedded husband that the Lord himself has granted us with. We are called to be strong but submissive when the time and place comes as there is a time and place for everything understand. Strong and submissive should be our mission without being confused by men and that is the type of feminism we should live by.
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15
You're a leftist and a Marxist and a socialist and you're right There ain't no politics for real justice in this all condemning strife So when the cause goes to war And you're floored by the flaws As the totalitarians scoff the Trotskyists With their insufferable prejudice you abhor Stand firm to the fore And demand something more Cause their aint no justice in this life Till we all answer to those silenced By the ringing of that call
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Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 8:00 AM UTC
Passing bell
“Who’s the lucky guy?” someone asks “Their name’s Bea,” I reply “I support that,” they hesitate “You are so brave.” they add I never saw their lips as a political statement Nor did I think holding hands in the front seat while a friend is puking by the side of the road Was some kind of revolution How romantic is it That our story will be etched Not in some Neruda poetry book But a professor’s first textbook Or a college student’s 2 am essay When I said I was in love You thought it meant I was hungry Not for touch or for pleasure But for justice and freedom I didn’t know that When I run my fingers down her neck It would be tied to a long Twitter thread I never saw my love as a battleground A metaphysical exploration of sexuality What’s Marxist about the way their eyes disappear when they smile? What’s so intersectional about Our entanglement at the back seat Or our hands holding in front I never thought I would be so brave At my most fragile state So political In my most dumbstruck ways So woke When I’m asleep in her embrace
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May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 6:54 PM UTC
Love & Politics
Tribal maternal's terrace ***** by carnivorous shipmen Earth over ran By Marxist's and ditty wit's!!! Hold thine lingo Release thy spit Oh vertebrate of underworld grief... Tend to thine flock Cut thine beef, As in the cattle thou hath becometh... For the serum doth runneth Wherein thine swords becameth thy first choice.... Where is thy voice? God of technology Made science thy hobby Made gentlewoman thy footstool...... As thou hath runneth a muck And made thy queen thy second elect!!!! For I just bet That thineself shalt lose to all thy debts....
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
Tribal maternal
Hate and ridicule comes to the forefront. Anyone who disagrees is a bigot you see. Differing opinions must be silenced, that is just how it has to be. Hiding behind children used as human shields, to deflect attention from the problems that are all too real. Spreading lies and fomenting dissent, that is the mantra they live by everyday. Dissenting at the ideas of cutting a budget or project, that uselessly gives tax dollars away. Individualism is overrated, on government you must depend. If you dare to move off of the grid, you must be insane. A disease for the unwashed masses who walk around like a heard of Lemmings. Liberalism, the modern incarnation of Marxist communism.
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Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
Liberalism
Why is he Vaticanizing when he could be catechizing ? This silly man with a funny hat this doddering puppet with his dead Jesus on a stick this irrelevant vestigial ***** this geriatric Marxist-Lite outdated Liberationist terminal Global Warmist; no wonder the World heeds his incoherent discourse. No wonder they listen to him but hate the Truth.
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
♗ El Papito Visits Babylon
Starving his people so that they eat off dumpsters is not enough; Causing more than 3,000,000 of the best and brightest to emigrate is not enough; An annual inflation rate of 60,324% today (source: Forbes) is not enough; Rejecting at gun point foreign food and medicine to aid the sick and starving at the borders is not enough; Trampling on the Constitution and establishing a dictatorship is not enough; Billions of dollars stolen from the Venezuelan people by cronies is not enough; Destroying hope, progress, and a leading world economy is not enough; Today government thugs are literally running over protesters in armored vehicles. A small group of rabid-left apologists in the U.S. telling us to ignore the man behind the curtain in an insane attempt to defend the indefensible must face reality. Maduro must go. His Marxist dystopia must be dismantled. The Venezuelan people must regain the right of self determination through free and fair elections--not the sham elections all Communist nations use to show close to 100% approval of the ruling tyrant. Enough is enough!
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Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC
Venezuela: Enough is Enough!
the shadow cabinet of a cultural marxist                  government is filled with them,    these spewing neuro-science pop        zeitgeist, whatever you want to call them, these culutral darwinists: annoying    as either gnat or **** depends...         depends if there's an evangelical member of the lord of mosquitos cult,    you know the one... based in the vatican; p.s. nope... i just got bored of the ****** argument, these cultural darwinists are like theologians, sneaky ************* they're just like theologians: they use the lion and the pigeon in terms of competing for animals,    like the theologians use the spider and the spiderweb for their "creator"...              the only problem with this comparison of man to animal...    well... there's that problem of domesticated animals... castrating pedigree breeds of cats...    and then the harem of pigs and cows... how young bulls are slaughtered,   and only one is left to breed with the other *******                 see where cultural darwinism is heading?                       why would i compete for sloppy seconds... when i ********** like a woman menstrautes... once a month?        p.p.s. i'm not too good at hebrew, but if there's anyone out there to provide the new name for jesus "christ", please make him the ******* brother of             beelzebub, i.e. the lord of mosquitos. p.p.p.s. does fine art equal ****      i mean... i ****** off looking at   agnolo bronzino's     venus, cupid, folly & time... um...                            maybe i just have refined tastes.
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Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
the shadow cabinet of a cultural marxist gov.
the shadow cabinet of a cultural marxist                  government is filled with them,    these spewing neuro-science pop        zeitgeist, whatever you want to call them, these culutral darwinists: annoying    as either gnat or **** depends...         depends if there's an evangelical member of the lord of mosquitos cult,    you know the one... based in the vatican; p.s. nope... i just got bored of the ****** argument, these cultural darwinists are like theologians, sneaky ************* they're just like theologians: they use the lion and the pigeon in terms of competing for animals,    like the theologians use the spider and the spiderweb for their "creator"...              the only problem with this comparison of man to animal...    well... there's that problem of domesticated animals... castrating pedigree breeds of cats...    and then the harem of pigs and cows... how young bulls are slaughtered,   and only one is left to breed with the other *******                 see where cultural darwinism is heading?                       why would i compete for sloppy seconds... when i ********** like a woman menstrautes... once a month?        p.p.s. i'm not too good at hebrew, but if there's anyone out there to provide the new name for jesus "christ", please make him the ******* brother of             beelzebub, i.e. the lord of mosquitos. p.p.p.s. does fine art equal ****      i mean... i ****** off looking at   agnolo bronzino's     venus, cupid, folly & time... um...                            maybe i just have refined tastes.
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I am that feminist that cites Betty Friedan in her arguments Who will tell you to bite your tongue if you think women have equal rights I am that liberal who stands up for the rights of others While preaching about white privilege I am that democrat who goes on Marxist rants And looks kindly upon socialistic programs I am that American who finds kinks in the system But also deeply loves my country. I am that ***** ***** **** Who thinks I should have the right to my own body And the government should not I am that student who thinks the education system is ****** up And prays for future generations because the common core is going to fail them I am that Christian who refuses to associate with the Republican Party But loves God with all her heart. I am that loud-mouth who will tell you to check yourself Before you tell a **** joke I am that activist who will die fighting for her cause And I will love every second of it.
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 12:06 PM UTC
Activism
That night we were perfectly irrational, 
your mother spoke like Rhea in an ancient
 Greek tongue. We straddled the mighty Norton five-hundred and joked of Marxist revolution.
 She tightened her arms on the ascent. Danger flurried down our spines and palms
 began to sweat. At breakneck speed we whipped
 round snaking grey meanders along the cliff edge.
 Our compass set in lunar chatoyance
 the stars were squinting feline lovers
 as the night light washed upon her eyelids, 
lashed with jagged stalactitic silhouettes. We coasted down a sandy path; emerging from the hills 
where the shepherds’ ruby grins were the nights hue. 
Hearts cast in iron and minds sat on sand, the sky snapped pink to blue, to navy dogtooth. 
The spider grass on the dunes, the mirage
 of twisting dancers and sand storm pirouettes. 
Full beams off, we’d blink and stand amazed,
 that very trace of privacy at night 
which leaves you dazed, for unlike the crowded 
light of day which knows no heart nor wonderment
 moonlight dances on the pier, and bounces off the waves.
 My first born son who parts the fog and clouds 
to carry primal thunder; I gift to you,
 the joy of life, and beauty of the oceans wealth.
 The sand will bed and water cleanse, 
the tide will carry and coral mend.
 Until you, La Pedarosa of the floating world, 
may sail over those who tell of any boat
 you cannot sink and any fleet you cannot fell.
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC
Cronus to Posseiden
ººº *Beware lest anyone cheat you through philosophy and empty deceit, according to the tradition of men, according to the basic principles of the world, and not according to Christ.* Colossians 2:4-8 (NKJV) His Nietzschean trip moved from Comic toward Tragic: Deleuze’s delusions flew out the fenêtre Airborne and ****** on philosphy’s magic (the nihilist suicide’s raison d’être…) Propelled from the window, transcending the Ontic, his organless body in textual flight, a schiz-flow beyond on a voyage turned frantic. His thought – a nomadic adornment for speed, multiplicitly viewing a thousand plateaux was a force for unhinging the doorways of light and a plea for postmodern decoding indeed. His frame soon encountered pure striated space in the form of the pavement caressing his face. He joins other smokers of Gallic tabac, other esotericians of cognitive frenzy (those mullahs of madness, those sultans of Whack…) Sorely missed by his victims, disciples and friends he is mourned, misinterpreted, copied, dismissed – but for semioticians he heads up the list. Another brave Frenchman, some guy named Debord a bespectacled Marxist (who missed all the marks) made the mediums’ message a radical bore dialectically fading the lights into darks. Indirectly disrupting pop-culture with Punk and other anarchic phenomena-junk, he too chose to leave with a nihilist bang – while we whimper and suffer down here with the gang. The old situationist’s last situation: an agit-prop funeral short on elation… So to French de-constructor-philosopher-ravers and all who rejoice while society wavers I offer these lines, like a quick coup-de-grace and be warned – they’re now viewing the Good Lord en face.
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
Deleuzional
ººº *Beware lest anyone cheat you through philosophy and empty deceit, according to the tradition of men, according to the basic principles of the world, and not according to Christ.* Colossians 2:4-8 (NKJV) His Nietzschean trip moved from Comic toward Tragic: Deleuze’s delusions flew out the fenêtre Airborne and ****** on philosphy’s magic (the nihilist suicide’s raison d’être…) Propelled from the window, transcending the Ontic, his organless body in textual flight, a schiz-flow beyond on a voyage turned frantic. His thought – a nomadic adornment for speed, multiplicitly viewing a thousand plateaux was a force for unhinging the doorways of light and a plea for postmodern decoding indeed. His frame soon encountered pure striated space in the form of the pavement caressing his face. He joins other smokers of Gallic tabac, other esotericians of cognitive frenzy (those mullahs of madness, those sultans of Whack…) Sorely missed by his victims, disciples and friends he is mourned, misinterpreted, copied, dismissed – but for semioticians he heads up the list. Another brave Frenchman, some guy named Debord a bespectacled Marxist (who missed all the marks) made the mediums’ message a radical bore dialectically fading the lights into darks. Indirectly disrupting pop-culture with Punk and other anarchic phenomena-junk, he too chose to leave with a nihilist bang – while we whimper and suffer down here with the gang. The old situationist’s last situation: an agit-prop funeral short on elation… So to French de-constructor-philosopher-ravers and all who rejoice while society wavers I offer these lines, like a quick coup-de-grace and be warned – they’re now viewing the Good Lord en face.
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Part One We sat on a strange wooden platform Which hung suspended From a strange metal structure. And we kissed in the daylight With cars passing by. It struck me then That I hadn’t kissed anyone in the daylight With cars passing by In over two years. And I’d never before Kissed anyone in the daylight With cars passing by Who identifies as a Marxist. Or who loves Virginia Woolf. Or who takes her sandals off to splash in muddy water without prompting and Without even rolling up her jeans. Or whose love of life captures her in the same contradictions as mine. And I haven’t written a love poem For someone who might also be writing me love poems In over two years But this is it. Here it is. This is it, Here it is, In four days We will live in separate cities And then I might not kiss anyone in the daylight With cars passing by For two more years Or two more after that but Such a possibility strikes me as unlikely. Not because we can commute but because you showed me As we hung suspended on a strange wooden platform Kissing in the daylight With cars passing by (As we braved the mosquito bites in that field that night; As we waded through the creek today While thunder cracked all around us And rain poured down right upon us) That I am someone who someone worth loving Can find worth loving. Part Two Or hang on. It doesn’t have to be like that. It doesn’t have to be like kale soup, Which has been connoted for me as representing the preservation of tradition and community while effecting radical change within the food system. It can instead be like artichokes Which I just like For no ******* reason Other than that they’re good. We each got over 40 mosquito bites because, While we lay in a field under the, like, five stars that decided to show themselves at the peak of the Perseides meteor shower, We were too busy making out to give a **** And it was fun. It was fun, and tonight when we got dinner and you asked me to explain why I liked artichokes so much We abandoned our tradition of narrative, us English majors, and we decided to study Sociology, Because sometimes it’s better to look at how things are Before you even ask yourself why.
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
Cars Passing By, With and Without Prescription
Part One We sat on a strange wooden platform Which hung suspended From a strange metal structure. And we kissed in the daylight With cars passing by. It struck me then That I hadn’t kissed anyone in the daylight With cars passing by In over two years. And I’d never before Kissed anyone in the daylight With cars passing by Who identifies as a Marxist. Or who loves Virginia Woolf. Or who takes her sandals off to splash in muddy water without prompting and Without even rolling up her jeans. Or whose love of life captures her in the same contradictions as mine. And I haven’t written a love poem For someone who might also be writing me love poems In over two years But this is it. Here it is. This is it, Here it is, In four days We will live in separate cities And then I might not kiss anyone in the daylight With cars passing by For two more years Or two more after that but Such a possibility strikes me as unlikely. Not because we can commute but because you showed me As we hung suspended on a strange wooden platform Kissing in the daylight With cars passing by (As we braved the mosquito bites in that field that night; As we waded through the creek today While thunder cracked all around us And rain poured down right upon us) That I am someone who someone worth loving Can find worth loving. Part Two Or hang on. It doesn’t have to be like that. It doesn’t have to be like kale soup, Which has been connoted for me as representing the preservation of tradition and community while effecting radical change within the food system. It can instead be like artichokes Which I just like For no ******* reason Other than that they’re good. We each got over 40 mosquito bites because, While we lay in a field under the, like, five stars that decided to show themselves at the peak of the Perseides meteor shower, We were too busy making out to give a **** And it was fun. It was fun, and tonight when we got dinner and you asked me to explain why I liked artichokes so much We abandoned our tradition of narrative, us English majors, and we decided to study Sociology, Because sometimes it’s better to look at how things are Before you even ask yourself why.
Continue reading...
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