"nationalistic" poems
I don’t think history is romantic.
I’m “American”; this means I’m unburdened
with having to be nationalistic or patriotic.
Don’t have to be prideful about hundreds of
years of ******** and mythology.
It means I might hate Bukowski,
but I find him way less repulsive
than Shakespeare. I had to stab a
pathetic sense of “spirituality”
[religion?] in a public place with prejudice,
to truly gain a sense of enlightenment in
pure hopelessness. Something like that.
I might be deaf to some other culture,
but I’m hearing megaphones in America.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC
This nation
once fought
for its liberty,
its redemption,
its freedom.
Now it sets all its
rights aside
just because those who reside in this nation
simply lost the fire
that once burned in their heart.
The freedom that this nations heroes fought long ago
is being disregard.
The countrymen act like the
notion of freedom is nothing.
I dream about the nation this
piece of land used to be.
How nationalistic it once was,
how love used to fill the air.
Now, nothing remains but the memories
of what used to be.
I would honestly rather live and die
in the time wherein this nation fervently fought for its
freedom and its rights, wherein each and every person
loved its homeland, than live today
where apathy rules.
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 1:54 AM UTC
The fiscal snare is drawing tight
Putin’s day... now courting night,
Rouble tilts vertiginously
To Satan’s **** religiously.
Fiscal snare is drawing blood
A trickle then... is now a flood,
Russia’s central bank adjusts
But ineffectually, combusts.
Hard line prospects elbow dance
Aligning for assasins lance.
Perhaps….
Better now, the Devil known
Than facing down an Unknown throne…..
Facing down an Iron call
With finger poised in nuclear thrall.
What choice now for ego’s Prince
Retreat from Eastern Ukraine’s wince?
Retreat Crimea’s balmy shores
To face the nationalistic howl of hordes?
Brinkmanship…the other way
A gamble that the West might sway?
Either way the game is up
Now bitter wine brims Russia’s cup.
M.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
In this world, this imperfect world,
So many problems are born.
Everlasting conflict,
Which as a collective species,
we are torn.
Do animals have rights?
Is there a God?
Did we come from primates?
Is the answer to the problems war?
Everyone just shakes and nods.
We deserve to know,
What's going on in this show,
That we call life.
Is it too much to ask,
To have a chat,
With the man behind the mask?
Please don't stall,
Cause I can no longer take,
This truth withdrawal.
None of us are thinking,
We are all brothers after all.
Everyone shares the same planet,
We all drink the same water.
Can't we just peacefully share this big blue ball?
Everyone seems to want answers,
But they don't know who to ask.
Pious fools pray for the knowledge,
Citizens look towards the government,
Only to get the answer from a mask.
We deserve to know,
What's going on in this show,
That we call life.
Is it too much to ask,
To have a chat,
With the man behind the mask?
Please don't stall,
Cause I can no longer take,
This truth withdrawal.
Too many questions!
Even more answers!
They believe what they are told,
And go back to their daily routine,
Like hypothesized dancers!
That's why I just say,
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Makes more sense then the other ******** you feed us.
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Why don't you believe us?
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Your political answers are just lies,
To protect the nationalistic demise,
Of our country.
QTriangle3=Jesus,
Just tell us the ******* truth!
We deserve to know,
What's going on in this show,
That we call life.
Is it too much to ask,
To have a chat,
With the man behind the mask?
Please don't stall,
Cause I can no longer take,
This truth withdrawal.
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 1:08 PM UTC
I am a space alien
And I like it here
So could you please stop
******* everything up
With this patriotic
Nationalistic
Bull crap
And stop behaving like baboons
Every time someone waves a flag?
And just keep it at the cute level
Like when someone wins a game
Or have an album hitting number one
On the American Billboard
That is not American
And leave some space for those of us
Who think you're otherwise OK
All of you.
Besides
It's not like I have anywhere else to go
Until you all come together
And make some proper FTL-drives
Already
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
.ah here comes england with its eccentricities, ah hier kommt polen mit seine christentum: where anyone can be a messiah, as stressed by the byzantines.
my first love was the love of the english grey,
(in honesty mentioned it was
the double-decker first, since
i fancied myself the great bus-driver of
the no. 5 bus back home)
earl grey came and said: ‘i can’t look
at these skies without sunglasses!’
and so it was, mid-autumn with sunglasses
at loss the sun-worshiper
enter the moon idiot,
looking for accents, looking for anything.
in england they called him das deutsche -
for reasons believable enough;
the luftwaffe eagerly anticipating the tunnelling
centipede that is the euro-star train-tunnel:
the panzers are rolling in!
the panzers are rolling in!
strange he never minded the coal-miners as useful
as minded by edvard gierek von silesia -
to the dispute of silesians not ex-patriated to saxony
(oh wait... texan boy doesn't sound as
nationalistic as minnesota boy?).
ooh pokey poo... writing about germany
became so **** so recently, i forget that i started it:
here’s to the english language’s chirality of s and z,
actually being superimposable:
from words in the socratic sense as encoded by plato
i don't get a bunch of ideas... virtue
does not make me ponder it with meaning or definition,
i only see the kabbalistic sensibility
of anti-alphabetical sequencing as v
i r t u e...
otherwise e i u r t v;
almost sounds like s.t.d.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 6:33 AM UTC
The voice of Norway
It was there
At the border
A gray mass of stones
Between two countries
One country
Wanted to give it away
As a good will gesture
But the people
Those who didn't know
The mountain existed
Said NO
We will not give away
A pebble
Of our nation
There was waving flags
The authority relented
Took the offer back
The people had spoken
With a narrow-minded
Nationalistic fervour
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 5:23 AM UTC
*Combat....
though morbid in nature, there is a sense of beauty....
for example -
the bullet and it's chamber
the slickness of steel, and the power of the trigger
which together correlates the symphony of motion
from the time the trigger is pulled, to the
daunting escape of a bullet, and then finally to the *********** of it's victim.....
Quite morbid... yet hauntingly beautiful.....
Then come's the bullets quintessential cohorts
The Chemical and The Armored Car (a Tank)
The brutal barrage of steel cartage
crashing into unstable masonry
then the soothing smog of golden mustard gas...
The echoed shrieks, the violent shakes,
the ****** eyes and mucus filled noses
whose violent episodes finally conclude
when the eyes of death stare back at them...
Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....
The finally... how can we forget the noble foot soldier?
his footsteps, silent to the earth....
out of the hysteria and chaos
two men, two weapons, and a whirlwind of emotion
nationalistic pride, paranoid fear, and scattered tranquility...
A sign, as is to say....
"I don't want to fight, but I have to..."
Which all correlates in the ****** of the bayonet
a twinkle of blood, and then finally the gentle weeps...
Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....*
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
White snowflakes fall.
Brown boots break the ground.
Porcelain perceptions
are lost and now
crimson puddles
seed the grounds.
This is what is found
when nationalistic
rhetoric
slowly crosses
from let’s make
this country great
to this is who
is to blame
and who to hate.
Till, that ill suited
nuclear rage
resets the atomic age
and glass jars
of peach preserves,
rhubarb,
and non-perishables
in dusty cellars
are the only things
left of us human beings.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
*Combat....
though morbid in nature, there is a sense of beauty....
for example -
the bullet and it's chamber
the slickness of steel, and the power of the trigger
which together correlates the symphony of motion
from the time the trigger is pulled, to the
daunting escape of a bullet, and then finally to the *********** of it's victim.....
Quite morbid... yet hauntingly beautiful.....
Then come's the bullets quintessential cohorts
The Chemical and The Armored Car (a Tank)
The brutal barrage of steel cartage
crashing into unstable masonry
then the soothing smog of golden mustard gas...
The echoed shrieks, the violent shakes,
the ****** eyes and mucus filled noses
whose violent episodes finally conclude
when the eyes of death stare back at them...
Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....
The finally... how can we forget the noble foot soldier?
his footsteps, silent to the earth....
out of the hysteria and chaos
two men, two weapons, and a whirlwind of emotion
nationalistic pride, paranoid fear, and scattered tranquility...
A sign, as is to say....
"I don't want to fight, but I have to..."
Which all correlates in the ****** of the bayonet
a twinkle of blood, and then finally the gentle weeps...
Quite morbid.... yet hauntingly beautiful....*
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC
His name is ingrained into the fabric of our flag,
yes, the one you see there, waving in the December air,
with waves that glisten not from sun but from wind,
through the water turned frozen they fail to despair,
"My, oh, my, it's Washington Crossing the Delaware!"
Yet an intrinsic sense of nationalistic pride
exudes from the ink that tattoos this canvas,
the genesis of a nation they had taken for their own;
though, as truth becomes told, our pride seems to fold,
and the ink in the portrait begins to fade in color.
Still, on he trekked, though frigid and cold,
as hills bleached in snow began to unfold
potential Hessian retreats scattered across the beach,
a visualization of a battle bounding to unfold,
a strategist adept in war, in honor he was cloaked,
too determined to fail now.
But here we sit, in contemplation and wonder,
pondering the juxtaposition of privilege and patriotism --
how deceitful corruption now riddles those in charge,
empty promises as true as the navy blue
of the oils that stain this worn, cherished canvas.
Its memory lives on in the minds of many made here:
those of us who bleed the good ol' red, white, and blue,
and those of us who hide from the ones who tattoo
their whispered words into the portrait of our being.
Our quilted nation is laced with crimson,
a tapestry of history hidden from the young;
woven threads of variability outline the margins,
a picturesque vision of what could be; a voice speaks,
"Perhaps our future is just across the Delaware!"
Nov 22, 2023
Nov 22, 2023 at 12:14 AM UTC
Are we the cattle of an entire nation?
What have we got to lose? Except for those already lost
You can be docile or violent, just don’t lie in silence!
Rise up! Here begins a new age, end discrimination!
Innocence is dead, the wrong men end up in the jail cell
This place is nice, but life is going to hell
They’re ****** ‘cause the former majority is now a minority
Hypocritical foundations, this land’ll never unite
What happened to Civil Rights?
They only gave us what was left.
You pigs - You must be bored just to send so many to the morgue
I can’t stand to watch the news, this society isn’t one to put kids through
And it’ll only get worse
Time never changes, history repeats
No more running (RISE UP!) This is the culling!
The culling!
Never will I be your *****
The culling! (x2)
The United States lives an ****** Cold War!
(Let’s Rock)
We are the Antiheros, the Public Enemy
Now join me friends, let’s unveil the clarity
Who am I to you? When you look what do you see?
All you see are the colors of sin
The American Dream is broken, you breed loathing
Who can, Who will - Make America Great Again?
I can’t be led by a Puppeteer of Dollar Strings
You wanna make the world free? (HUH?)
But the only thing costless, is the loss of me
Drop it! If she needs and investigation
(She’s out!) That’s the end of an asinine conversation
Rise Up! It’s far too late
I am the spirit of those who live with a target
One wrong factor can end an actor
The leaders are gone, the show is over
It’s the end of the road, but the start of -
The Culling!
A Constitution Diluted by Disillusion
The Culling!
A Jail For A Nationalistic Conspiracist!
Time puses back, but it doesn’t make it better
The War is getting colder and the water’s getting redder
Every Rose has it’s thorns
We are the Bulls with dulled horns - Branded!
We’re the ones you reprimanded!
I! Feel I was born in the wrong time
I’ll go forward and see if they opened their eyes
Or I’ll go back! So I could ****** Revolutionize!
We all see, the ocean is vast
But like the truth and time, It Never Lasts!
Post-Traumatic Society Destruction
The Bliss of Disorder continues to function
All of the ways you hold us down
Leads to a point we take your crown
Everytime you hold us back
Pushed in a corner, poised to attack
One last push against -
The Culling!
We can’t hideaway any longer
The Culling (x3)
Your ignorance makes us stronger
The Culling!
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
What to buy, Who to be
This is a harmless harmony
First comes love, then comes trust;
A defenseless memory in the dust
And what could I, so ever in motion,
could contribute to this ocean
that I call Earth and you call Here --
my eyes are a farmhouse portrait,
far and near.
With and without, give my E! take
Sometimes I feel like this hunger
is my and your mistake.
Withering windows give view to past,
give mention to something through
alliterative glass.
What could it be, When could it throw
my life and your life in a redundant television show,
where the laughter is canned, the love staged,
the buying and dying of products we have caged
ourselves in, in bulk, ourselves in a religion of none.
Time to blister with imagery, A delicate, bouncing light
traveling across a sea, moving towards me, moving
towards you, across the darkly shimmer of a reflector
blue, and the denim drugs and t-shirt ***
the Fat Elvis rock in your lap, Nationalistic paranoia:
the red, white, and blue on your hat, fading, fading
among the shards of air, warm and vibrant,
Terror-Freedom clarity spittle-lip cat bath,
and my laces around the neck of the sound that skips
lids and rids of hipster brains and howling barks
from trees and boys with new noise, killer and robust
in the teenage, young adult, serial defenseless dust.
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
Bill O'Reilly got the boot!
Fox News has said good-by--
A place where reputable commentators
Are already in short supply.
He faces too many allegations
Of ****** harassment. But, oh dear!
What a mess he's made of things
Now in his Fox News career!
Being a brute and a hypocrite
For Bill O'Reilly was NOT hard to handle.
Funny, but he was an outspoken critic
During the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal.
Peddler of white nationalistic
Ideas, O'Reilly does have his fans.
He'll find a job with someone who
Peddles theories as bizarre as that man's.
His sudden departure from the station
Doesn't really affect us directly.
But why doesn't a person like him
Behave more circumspectly?
I guess when your mentor is Roger Ailes,
You have the power to do as you wish--
To regard EACH female employee
Or guest as merely a **** dish.
- by Bob B (4-21-17)
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
A conveyor belt
Of pressed blue suits
In every one a snide
We cannot let
All hope be crushed
By a cruel landslide
All those fearful
Little Englanders
Primed with nationalistic pride
We must not let
All hope be crushed
By a cruel landslide
The delusional deniers
Scoff at the
Rising plastic tide
We shall not let
All hope be crushed
By a cruel landslide
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 6:33 PM UTC
It's that time of the year again
Our politicians put on a new persona
Nothing new compared to the previous gimmick
Decade old cliched stuff, on the repeat.
A costly road ahead with a hefty expense
Back-channels, bargains and deals , none can comprehend
Funding is secured, the plans are now been drawn
Delegation to the foot-soldiers, with ease and control
The demography and previous trends have all been accounted
War-rooms being set up, as the arsenal needs to be surmounted.
Minute by minute, hour by hour
The ***** games and abuse of power
Horse trading has begun,
The influential will re-run
Money, honey or even the hard ways
Just break the loyalty and build pathways
Media Cells activated on the double
Spitting venom and creating trouble
Plethora of photoshops and planted stories
Peddling narratives, worst than conspiracy theories.
Meanwhile on the ground, a different game being played
The pawns as usual disillusioned and dismayed
Onslaught begins - First phase division
Divide by nationality, status or religion
Hate-mongering and fear-mongering
No holds barred
Political-correctness and propaganda not that far apart
All kind of theatrics have been put to use
Needless to discount the petty rhetoric and all the abuse
Both left and right wing ideologies hand-crafted to look cool
To trap the gullible and make them drool
And nationalistic pride sprayed like chem-trails
Beyond jingoism, everything else fails
Morality and conscience have vanished into thin air
Utopian lands being promised, as if almost here.
The voter's are intelligent, they keep reiterating
It's just a bait though, to lure them for voting
But then again, what is the voter supposed to do?
Greater evil or lesser evil are the choices to make
Can it get any worst, is his obvious take
Confusion, delusion and a hasty decision made
Now crib, cry, swear and the same blame game
Cometh the next election, its the same game play
The vicious cycle repeats
Politicians are back to deceive and cheat.
Alright! Been there, done that
To err is human they say
Well! Guess what?
I'll willfully repeat that!
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 10:48 AM UTC
What foul deed
do these fools decree
to submit to this
madness that you see?
Blades of grass,
knives of steel,
bullets that feel
no more or less real.
Pain is reaped
like wheat with
the reaper’s scythe .
As loved one fall
on into
an endless night
while leaders
claim the right
to order us
to fight.
Our fallen kin
lies therein
victim to their whims,
profiting the wealthy
more than the starving
children and women.
While nationalistic rhetoric
leaves stranger thundering
bellowing broken justifications
our new leader elect
just goes on a vacation.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 9:11 PM UTC
a pretty ****** job being an elephant....
i remember walking home,
being asked by two Polaks
to open my mouth, subsequently
being spat on, while closing my mouth...
am i nationalistic...
i'm hybird... i find the monochromatic
culture a... nausea...
ugh...
head over heels
when it comes to anticipating the next
N.A.S.A. project.
the country of my birth...
and they give me nothing
but contempt to supposit
the faking of loving....
what equates to merely
strangers.
what broke the camels' back?
being naive as a child to open
my mouth...
getting a saliva
exchange...
England was no better...
both nations deserve to be
laughed at.
or as a child might infatuate:
**** you both!
i don't like to be spat on...
as i don't like to be deemed
illegal...
now take your ****
and **** off...
to wherever you picked him
from!
and stay there!
****** you wanna fight?!
i wanna fight!
i'm ******* itching for a fight!
i don't care if i lose...
i'm itching!
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
Nineteen and a half.
No job to reflect my adolescent prospects.
The prospects in question cannot be a part of my nationalistic expenses. But worry me to carry my heavier body through Obāchan’s home.
I react like nerves
with every sense I retract the thoughts
The ones I am desperate to share
“This is why I don’t hang out with them often,” to be forgotten,
my relationships turn rotten.
Yet the skin still gleams as if the flesh is fresh.
Is this me? Is this luck?
The boss blames the worker, the worker blames his wife, the wife blames the children and I blame them all.
The screen hits my face with strength
under covers to be undercover.
Poison is my delusion and my mind plays illusions that I am right.
I’ve lost my hair tie.
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 1:44 AM UTC
i might not have the communist savvy
with regards to your economic policy,
but you have neither,
the nationalistic savvy regarding
the capitalistic savvy regarding my
standpoint...
no! i'll play the ignornant ********
riddled hum brigade!
you teach me economics,
i'll teach you ethno-centricism..
i'm pretty ******* sure
that you'll teach me the former question,
as i'll teach you the latter...
are we not left unsure?
are we?
you teach me to count,
i'll teach you how to spell words;
are we gravitating on that being
the best accuracy of fathomability?
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
i think the americans ought to relearn
their policy on isolationism -
the chinese have already overtook
the americans on the grounds of
national capitalism -
and what a ****** opinion this
ends up being,..
the only way americans will
retain their americanism is by
isolating themselves from thee rest
of the world,
lest they become the lingua franca
that equates itself as merely
lingua fornicata -
no, i'm not the ***** of french joke
with bilinguals, or mono-linguals,
or mono-linguals = americans,
or three language speakers being
tri-linguals,
it just means: you own a *******
**********
how's that?!
lingua franca became lingua fornicata...
i swear to god the americans ought
to rekindle the isolationist policies
that FDR made real...
to live in a monochromatic world
is about as interesting as
living next to 20 taj mahals
within a 20sqm radius...
i have more of those
marble monstrosities in my head,
abstract...
americans ought to relearn
isolationism...
just to slow the **** down
on the globalist agendas...
given the made in china
national capitalism,
which was only perfected via
socialism...
funny...
nationalistic capitalism only
emerged from socialism...
well, you save capitalistic
countries via pumping them money rather than
pride....
english doesn't actually
encourage ******* why would it,
it already has ******
it's lingua fornicata...
perhaps, once upon a time it
was lingua franca...
now what
the english economises is *****
everything else is made in china;
the english used to be the marco polos of
this world, now? they're the don giovannis.
don't you worry about me,
the slavic women adore the fact that
they can be the ****** of
the kings of europe...
hey, i'm done in 70 years
or less given the chance i shorten this
prison sentence by 20+ years...
if i take to the fetish of prayer...
which part of the story am i take
honour for?
the part that i die,
or the part that i am born,
but have no allegiance to life?
mesmerise me, indulgence me,
tell me the difference.
i will be content with the last
breath, prior to any breath akin
to mine: take its first.
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 9:27 PM UTC
Life began well nourished after breaking the fertile ground
Patriots shouldered their rifles in crisp salutation
Soldiers joyously gathered around , Marching bands played-
musical testimonials , the sound carried throughout-
every town
The Apple Tree was Liberty
She grew strong an bore the fruit of Freedom
The citizens selfishly gorged on every bountiful harvest
Day upon day , Year after year till one day when-
the spoils of government could not be reached ...
Her bounty died on the vine , rotted then fell to the earth
In a fit of megalomania, bureaucratic fertilizer exalted her to reach the Heavens but she was so denied ..
Aloof and deaf to the clamor and pain of her citizens
In her dying day she lay felled by the keepers sworn to-
her defense , now a page in history on the wrongs of nationalistic -government , the "Star of the Grove" with all her promise and good intent came and went with a painful end ...
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 10:16 AM UTC