"partisans" poems
Suspected of attack
On fascist Graziani
He was in house arrest
As the case was with
Suspects the rest.
A prisoner of war
Then via Somalia
He was sent to Rome
Found a black lion
If left at home.
Together with
A prison inmate
From Yugoslavia
Called Julio
He made a rope
Out of a blanket
The reason
To descend down
And escape
From a tower prison.
In a show of contempt
Defying officials' attempt
To smoke out a fugitive
On the hide
The two at eventide
Returned to open fire
And attack guards
To set free prisoners
Indeed, victory was
On their side.
Leading partisans
Abdissa made it his duty
To gruel fascists
With insurgent activity.
What was the outcome?
Parallel to the allied forces
When he entered Rome
With Ethiopia's tricolor
Around his wrist
He was accorded
A warm welcome.
Then he turned his face
To allied-forces'-
'For Berlin' race
In rooting out **** troops
He spurred the pace!
Asked to stay in Europe
He said shalom
"Home sweet home!
As written on the bible
Can an Ethiopian change
His skin
or a leopard its spots?
Doing so
Will it not be a sin?"
The unsung hero
Returned to Addis
Turning Fascist and Nazis'
Wild dreams to zero!
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 11:53 PM UTC
On a school trip to a gallery,
Teachers and curators will always tell you
Look upon, examine, appreciate the art!
But they’ll never instruct you
On how to be certain
That your appreciation is acceptable and right.
Conundrum of the contemplative,
Judgement of the partisans,
Cogitation of any aware,
I’ll ponder until my encephalon
Subsides under impactful pressure
Until the logical or the just is no longer right.
Through incandesce of the morning,
In the cloak of the ever-mantling night,
Here I revel in the concept of
Eternal glee through appreciation
Of nostalgic kitsch, and graffiti—
And hyperrealism as well as photoshop
Because love isn’t just omnipotent,
It’s incomprehensible.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
the world is adorned with a million windows
the bleakest night has a thousand eyes
daylight shines into the globes darkest corners
truth will ultimately expose all lies
NASA’s satellites circle
Tropic of Cancer latitudes
cameras pinpoint the disease
metastasizing in the body of Homs
from stratospheric limits
sensitive lenses read the names
magic markers have scrawled
onto white sheets covering the dead
YouTube gets Oscar consideration
for grisly cinematography
a real-time visceral docudrama
of panting fascists gleefully tramping
through the desecrated streets
coolly administering a coup de gras
to a city on its knees, pleading release
from an **** of incessant bloodletting
twitter records desperate tweets
the batting wings of endangered flocks
furiously thumbing into the blogosphere
calls for UN intervention that falls on blind eyes
BBC reportage,
the global gold standard
for journalistic excellence
scoops the stories
of London based FSA partisans
awaiting repatriation to scatter
Bashar’s Kodachrome killers
Has the All Seeing Eye
who has graced us with sight
laughingly curse us with vision?
Does the
One Caring Eye of the Universe
bless us with perception
to haunt us with images?
Has
The One Thats Sees Everything
blinked closed the eye of compassion?
Has the horror of Homs
become too much even for
The Universal Eye of Love?
the opened eyes
of a dead child
reflects our
cold winter
of indifference
demoralizing
dehumanizing
a watching world
Music Selection
Grateful Dead Eyes of the World
Oakland
3/2/12
jbm
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 12:04 PM UTC
Where do society's extremists abide?
Rallies and Racists go side by side.
BBQs offer up well-done bigots;
On Jordan's lap dance the zealots.
Dogmatists rant in wild front rows,
True believers don't put on such shows?
Sexists cower in coastal Compounds,
Sects marry often in Salt Lake towns.
Troglodytes tan beneath southern suns.
Sepratists hold their final stand
On this side of The Rio Grande;
Fanatics occupy far Left and Right,
Partisans Op Eds are meant to enlight.
Mysoginists grab till they have blisters,
Huns and louts date brothers and sisters.
Philistines take our private spaces,
And whistle-blowers can't show their faces.
Of all the ists I know and abhor,
The musicist is a bigoted boor;
A connoisseur I abjure,
Who chooses tunes he insists
Are superior than my interests,
And disses tunes I like best.
So now I'll lay my needle down,
I've turned the table that goes round,
And plead musicists won't hesitate
To enjoy the tunes... don't discriminate.
May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 9:41 AM UTC
Have you ever had an open box of cornflakes
slip out of your hands
(at the precise time you were constructing a poem in your head)
and scatter all over the kitchen
like the fragile egos of self righteous partisans
(creating a bigger mess if you trample them)
and thus, you find yourself on all fours
sweeping a recently swept floor
once more.....
We’re brought up looking for divine expedience in any mishap that happens:
“Maslehat” they say.... there must be a hidden benefit in this!
“it’s a small loss in lieu of a bigger one that it prevented”...
....and we tune our frequencies from ambition to complacency....
year after year,
generation after generation,
till that becomes the default station.....
I even start looking at the benefits hidden in the mess at hand...
I’ve discovered crevices under the stove where my cleaner never reaches,
(now I can prepare an admonition for her
—-wouldn’t have happened without the corn flakes.... thank you!)
I imagine worse scenarios.... it could have been the bag of flour, or the spice jars .... or.... glass bottles.
The work instantly becomes less tedious, as I weigh it against shards of glass and invisible weapons of potential exsanguination....
oh shukar , shukar, shukar..... Alhamdulillah.
It’s ok, it’s only cornflakes....
It’s only cornflakes, and my attitude.... ( that’s in question)
keeping things together, even when they’re crumbling,
cleaning up messes, and counting on second guesses,
Using crafting glue and bluetac to hold up foundations
( this doesn’t merit any recommendation!)
A friend once said, “ sometimes you have to let it break, so that you can build it better....”
but what is better, when each damage is a consecration
that is the conundrum of creation
it’s all a substrate
it’s all a message
its all salvation
I had told my friend, “listen I don’t know how to use metaphors,
and I only have a few of my own,
will you give me some on loan?
I need them to break and remake my ache.... “
The silence meant yes.
I could take all the phrases,
all beautiful words, all dictions, all praises
In these clumsy hands, ( since the heart understands)
And if I spill them like cornflakes,
no matter what it takes,
I’ll find a way, to scoop them in a poem.
A.
20.9.18
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
*ich bin nein sympathisant,
bin ernst betreffen (verb without
adjective modulation):
https://goo.gl/h0VEjA.*
as the solid red partisans' plague
brought a censor to emerge from a
politico volcano -
dehumanised with the plucking
of petted eyes of cats out to engage
dehumanisation of man against man -
should it be a lessened esteem -
then iron swastikas may be readied now -
SALUTE! SALUTE! AVE HERR EMPEROR
CHARLIE CHAPLIN!
i love comedy, the last refinement
teasing the lineage of what's taboo;
and the last survivor of the tank dubbed
fury was a coward -
in death as in coordinate we came to press
a bleeding wound with our hand -
but not a retreat of hopes,
as the soldiery faction came to revise
a return to the everyday,
once in the ***** of Mars, forever in
the twin wombs of Mars's quest for continual war
in the eyes, for once in the ***** of Mars
a homosexual in the hands of Venus,
bruderschaft die für immer -
but as said... die Eisen Hakenkreuz...
the iron ******** with India sleeping
into a populace of over one billion -
the Roma beggar playing the Accordion
while the ᛋᛋ men marched to a drumbeat of
*wo wir sind da geht's immer vorwärts,
und der teufel der lacht nur dazu!
aha, ha, ha, ha, ha!*
insomniac buggers, with amphetamine injections
while the opposing side tamed a lack
of courage with alcohol; these beggars
with the amphetamines like the Luftwaffe
and the caliphate soldiers of twins Syria and Iraq
among the bookmarks of the 21st century,
conspiracy theories and 24 years without sleep
after the Vietnam war - ingesting serotonin tablets
to provide the natural equilibrates of sleeping.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC
"i don't want to rule or conquer anyone;
i should like to help everyone if possible —
jew, gentile, black man, white
we all want to help one another;
human beings are like that."
charlie chaplin wrote these words for
"the great dictator" a political satire
the nazis didn't want to hear anymore
but the dictator's speech went viral
in a wehrmacht's cinema, partisans of tito
made fun of ****** and exchanged
a propaganda-film for chaplin's video
an audience of nazis raged
a flash of fun in a ***** led by
insane murderers on stimulants
***
mr. chaplin i do thank you for
your outcry emerging from
human tragedy.
good bye...
R.I.P. Charles Spencer Chaplin
✞ December 25th 1977
God bless you.
Dec 25, 2019
Dec 25, 2019 at 3:34 PM UTC
The old champion bows her head and drops her torch.
Fatigue has set in after a century of drudgery
And all her commitment shown, no one can question her decision.
Her partisans are bleak and sympathetic
For how long should they ask the weary warrior to keep standing?
The new masses turned away and the poor exiled under law of phylogeny,
There is now no beacon but a rickety fence creakin’
That children fear when blows the old wind, once called freedom.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
Partisans of liberty a patriots act,
A neutralized citizen,
Vision of freedoms enslaved in flames.
Holding flesh in your hands and guilt written all over your face.
Swallowing the taste of nostalgia,
Looking down the road to ruin,
****** freedom must be fought for.
A beast rises inside as i claim my destiny.
There is a force that cannot be stopped,
That inner voice, that solid core,
Social justice of the people reaching out.
Written 7th September 2014 By Kelly O'Hara
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Vous n'avez réclamé ni gloire ni les larmes
Ni l'orgue ni la prière aux agonisants
Onze ans déjà que cela passe vite onze ans
Vous vous étiez servis simplement de vos armes
La mort n'éblouit pas les yeux des Partisans
Vous aviez vos portraits sur les murs de nos villes
Noirs de barbe et de nuit hirsutes menaçants
L'affiche qui semblait une tache de sang
Parce qu'à prononcer vos noms sont difficiles
Y cherchait un effet de peur sur les passants
Nul ne semblait vous voir Français de préférence
Les gens allaient sans yeux pour vous le jour durant
Mais à l'heure du couvre-feu des doigts errants
Avaient écrit sous vos photos MORTS POUR LA FRANCE
Et les mornes matins en étaient différents
Tout avait la couleur uniforme du givre
À la fin février pour vos derniers moments
Et c'est alors que l'un de vous dit calmement
Bonheur à tous Bonheur à ceux qui vont survivre
Je meurs sans haine en moi pour le peuple allemand
Adieu la peine et le plaisir Adieu les roses
Adieu la vie adieu la lumière et le vent
Marie-toi sois heureuse et pense à moi souvent
Toi qui vas demeurer dans la beauté des choses
Quand tout sera fini plus **** en Erivan
Un grand soleil d'hiver éclaire la colline
Que la nature est belle et que le coeur me fend
La justice viendra sur nos pas triomphants
Ma Mélinée ô mon amour mon orpheline
Et je te dis de vivre et d'avoir un enfant
Ils étaient vingt et trois quand les fusils fleurirent
Vingt et trois qui donnaient le coeur avant le temps
Vingt et trois étrangers et nos frères pourtant
Vingt et trois amoureux de vivre à en mourir
Vingt et trois qui criaient la France en s'abattant.
751
They're evil and edgy
Partisans pledging
Communal wedging
Without hedging
Alt right
Salt might
Halt flight
Until whites
Are the blight
Dynamite
Exploding heights
Out of sight
An extremist
Screams this
Dream wish
Of king fists
Being dished
To the fish
In his own aquarium
His subjects daring him
To callously bury them
If they are married men
Because they carry dems
So a way to parry then
Is to say they shouldn't wed
By having them condemned
Minds frozen still
Imposing will
Exposing ill
Intent to ****
For dollar bills
Expect the shills
To get their fill
In their royal mill
With soil drills
Of oil spills
On toil hills
They're usually uneducated
Which can't be understated
And can't be underrated
They're the ones that say it
With pride and hatred
Until we're berated
And never related
While those in the dark
See them as marks
To create sparks
That feed sharks
And bleed hearts
When ends justify means
They fight and scream
As a way of blowing off steam
Keeping others from the American dream
No matter what their character seems
They see people as being on teams
And hate those not part of their scene
Which they call a grass roots movement
But the grass hasn't seen any improvement
Only the doom sent
By the hollow gloom vent
Of our atmospheric dent
A torchlight
Of foresight
Affords light
In sore nights
To ignore slights
Before fights
Implore bites
Of more plights
So I store fright
With all that is trite
Yet fear is their motivator
And their mode of behavior
Searching for a savior
Of the Caucasian flavor
To be their maven slaver
To lead the craven players
To their haven layer
On the simple surface
That can be purchased
Until we live in a furnace
And the planet's a dirt pit
For fascism we flirt with
Our country turns worthless
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Mes amis et moi
Ont n'a pas les mêmes penchants, mais on cohabite ensemble.
On n'a pas les mêmes religions, mais on mange à la même table.
On est partisans de différentes parties Politique, mais on se parle aimablement et nos débats son sur la base du respect et de l'encouragement mutuelle.
On a différent goût, mais on ne manque pas de s'apprecier.
C'est ça la diversité.
Elle se veut elle-même diversifie.
Donnez-lui des définitions et des avis diffèrent et elle vous magnifiera.
Seulement garder son sens premier
Celle qui prône : l'amour, l'entente , la paix et le vivre ensemble.
Plus qu la vie, elle est en larmes
Plus qu n'importe quelle espèce en voie de disparition, elle est menacée d'distinction,
toujours par les hommes.
Les hommes se plaignent de multiples maux pourtant, ils refusent tous ses baumes
L'homme est décidément la seule espèce sur terre qui fuit consciemment la solution à ses problèmes et bizarrement, ils se plainent sans cesse de ses problèmes.
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
The time for punishment has arrived
line up the guilty for their trial
where the judgment is assumed
none shall refuse the stated sins
their lot is cast by consequence
all shall abide by the decree
the penalty shall match the crime
begin the grouping of the contrite
put the partisans in their groups
one on each side away from foes
with the worst in the front
holding weapons that drew blood
these hooligans will lead the pack
declaring statements all must condone
the brush is tarred to organize
one from another in their tribes
now put the shameful in their place
then state ‘mercy will be denied’
when the cries are exclaimed
to the gods now deaf by shame
the blood will flow in cleansing streams
evoking strength in witnesses
all shall declare that justice asked
for the censure of faithless ones
a final twist is now exposed
the sentence ****** just one trait
neutrality from the warring bands
no side selected among the crowds
this disinterest was their end
when only followers are held right
the unbiased are dubious
not holding creed with dogma's blight
once the lukewarm has been spat
from the mouth of pious folk
the hot and cold may battle on
with the assurance of sacred scripts
none will cry in the end
while the pundits lead their charge
all doubt is vanquished with the fall
of those who doubt conviction's charm.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190130.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 5:12 AM UTC