"rebellions" poems
Goats eat and **** the grass of ramparts,
stupefied cannons sit, garrisoned sentries
primed for nights of buccaneers,
seared by centuries of sun. Down shadowed
cobblestoned ramps, fortified shutters
covet rifle forend and barrel,
wresting rumored slave rebellions
from the locker of history,
while languid waves whisper indifferently
a roll call of human cargo,
chattel displaced, cast to the sea.
Here history sways to sounds
of brown skinned children
at play in breakers,
laughing, shrieking, thrashing,
buoyed by time to this vaulted brick
reverberating chamber,
here a window’s light is cast
beckoning vision past the beach,
to seek the horizon Icarus like,
to fly towards beauty in terror where
an azure sky conjoins a turquoise bay.
Copyright © 2003 Gary Brocks
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 5:14 AM UTC
Look in the mirror
Look at the clock
Look at the time
It never has stopped
It only goes forward
It's a one way walk
See how you have been growing
You ask yourself, "where have the days been going?"
Time can only progress
Yes, the river of life is always flowing
We lived cabins
And castles and caves
We came from Adam and eve
We evolved from apes
From Socrates and Homer
To Napoleon and Alexander the Great
The minds that desired knowing
And the enlightened ones glowing
People can only advance
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Revolutions and rebellions
Riots and revolts
Great discoveries
A key, a kite and a lightning bolt
Great writings and inventions
Innovations from inspiring jolts
Improvement was showing
To the future the world was going
Humanity only began to develop
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Religions and sciences
Economics and politics
Television and radio
Monarchies and dictatorships
Tanks and machine guns
Atomic bombs and battle ships
We went from arrow shooting and spear throwing
The muskets needed reloading
To nuclear weapons
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Exploring new lands
To find the world wasn't flat
To find silver and gold
And buried artifacts
To establish new territories
And expand the map
The searching ship kept rowing
As civilization went on growing
Accomplishments of the past
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Boats and rail roads
Fair trade and industry
World wide markets
Over land and sea
To keep out nations going
And stablize the economy
But now every country has money that they're owing
And the land that they're owning
Is has evolved
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Social reforms
Counter cultures fight
They protest strongly
For equal civil rights
The world's in constant change
Every day turns into night
Every opening has its closing
And then it comes back again
As long as there's someone hoping
Yes the river of life is always flowing
We put people into space
We have fought for equality
Created a world from nothing
And advanced technology
We've struggle to go to where we are
And continue to go strongly
The opportunities fate has been bestowing
We look forward to see what is ahead
The memories and mysteries the hourglass is holding
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
I cannot recall you gentle
yet through your heavy love
I have become
an image of your once delicate flesh
split with deceitful longings.
When strangers come and compliment me
your aged spirit takes a bow
jingling with pride
but once you hid that secret
in the center of furies
hanging me
with deep ******* and wiry hair
with your own split flesh
and long suffering eyes
buried in myths of little worth.
But I have peeled away your anger
down to the core of love
and look mother
I Am
a dark temple where your true spirit rises
beautiful
and tough as chestnut
stanchion against your nightmare of weakness
and if eyes conceal
a squadron of conflicting rebellions
I learned from you
to define myself
through your denials
audre lorde
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
It's the conspiracy to conspire,
Think of how the fist or flies feel,
The most enticing truth,
Astonishingly mouthwatering,
Turns out smoke and mirror,
You see, because behind the window paned,
skeleton of steel and wire,
Underneath there is commerce,
In the webbing of marrow, worldwide underhandedness,
Something is always being sold,
What better way to take power away,
Then having scheduled rebellions,
The greatest put on,
Our system only works under thumbs,
from the backdrop works the crippled puppeteer,
behind his blank, vagrant, expressionless lenses,
Behind the grey skin and swilled organs,
Attached to the oil drum veins,
Beats the very same heart of Moloch!
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings,
And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise,
And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze.
And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings,
Thy firm unshaken Valour ever brings
Victory home, while new Rebellions raise
Their Hydra-heads, and the false North displays
Her broken League to Imp her Serpent Wings:
O yet! a Nobler task awaits thy Hand,
For what can War, but Acts of War still breed
Till injur’d Truth from Violence be freed;
And publick Faith be rescu’d from the Brand
Of publick Fraud; in vain doth Valour bleed,
While Avarice and Rapine shares the Land.
2k
(Jeremiah, xxxi. 18-20)
My God, till I received Thy stroke,
How like a beast was I!
So unaccustom'd to the yoke,
So backward to comply.
With grief my just reproach I hear;
Shame fills me at the thought,
How frequent my rebellions were,
What wickedness I wrought.
Thy merciful restraint I scorn'd,
And left the pleasant road;
Yet turn me, and I shall be turn'd;
Thou art the Lord my God.
"Is Ephraim banish'd from my thoughts,
Or vile in my esteem?
No," saith the Lord, "with all his faults,
I still remember him.
"Is he a dear and pleasant child?
Yes, dear and pleasant still;
Though sin his foolish heart beguiled,
And he withstood my will.
"My sharp rebuke has laid him low,
He seeks my face again;
My pity kindles at his woe,
He shall not seek in vain."
1.9k
Fairfax, whose name in armes through Europe rings
Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze,
And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings,
Thy firm unshak’n vertue ever brings
Victory home, though new rebellions raise
Their Hydra heads, & the fals North displaies
Her brok’n league, to impe their serpent wings,
O yet a nobler task awaites thy hand;
Yet what can Warr, but endless warr still breed,
Till Truth, & Right from Violence be freed,
And Public Faith cleard from the shamefull brand
Of Public Fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed
While Avarice, & Rapine share the land.
1.9k
A Parody
Brigitte my love
Our Country suffers of many debts
The people are restless
Whatever shall we do love?
Ah Macron, we must think past the cookies
The solutions are complex, answers evasive
Let me speak with Marie Antoinette, she shall know!
Queen of Navarre, By god we shall be saved!
Marie, Marie Antoinette our people are restless
Our republic is in debt. these are crazy times!
Whatever shall we do?
I am fed up, allons-y
Ah fear not, if they have not bread!
Let them eat Nutella!
Lower the prices
Nutella for the masses!!!
Marie, are you sure? very very sure of such things?
Oui oui, on with it, my father was emperor of Rome
Nutella will calm the masses
Come here Nemo. taste, see even Nemo is tres happy now!
And so France lowered the prices of Nutella
Thus began the nouveau French Revolution
Riots in the streets, brawling in the magasins
The uprising has began, we want our Nutella for free
The masses rose
Nutella for all, Nutella for sans prix
We are all somewhat fou for Nutella you see!
And so the masses fought each other for Nutella's liberty
Nutella one and Nut Ella all!
I swear to your Brigette
We should have given them Macarons!!!
People remain civilized with cafe and cookies! n'est pas?
Emmanuel my love, fret not
The revolution shall be quelled
Qh I have the perfect person for this
He shall restore order to our dear republic
Prey tell Brigette? Who could do such a thing now
Riots everywhere, the masses fight each other daily?
The streets are not safe
There is a shortages of Nutella now, we are doomed cheri
Non non mon amour, I shall call Alizee
She shall sing us out of the terrible mess
She is the mistress of Doug McMillion
This man can save us all!!
Brigitte, who is this man you call Doug?
Why Emmanuel he is the president of Walmart
He has squashed many Black Fridays rebellions
He shall save us all!!!!!!
From these unruly unsavory Nutella shoppers!!!!!
Vive la France!
Vive Alizee
Mange ton macaroon mon cheri
C'est ton droit et ta liberté
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
I am a traveling salesman
and in my travels I have
sold many a thing
in middle class America,
I sold debt, love, lies,
wasted youth, and forgotten dreams
and none were the wiser
of what I sold.
My travels brought me to
the south of the Rio Grande.
Disease and poverty were
on the first of my list of things
to sell. Soon, heartbreak, hate,
tyranny, and fleeing for a future
followed,
and none were the wiser
of what I sold.
I traveled to the east, the
exact opposite of where humanity
once tread. I sold many things there
to people none the wiser.
Racism, genocide, and intolerance
I removed from my bag, and they
received tyranny and fanaticism
for free,
and none were the wiser
of what I sold.
I fled to the north to sell my goods.
The land of former kings provided
a great market for distrust, poverty,
and eventual declines from the great
history the land once knew.
And none were the wiser
of what I sold.
So I went to the last place of my sales
the not-quite-Far East. And there I found
the best market for civil wars, censorship,
arms sales, rebellions, and most of all,
potential.
And none were the wiser
of what I sold.
And so I fled this world to sell to another
and in my travels, I sold the world
to things leading to destruction.
And none were the wiser
of what I sold.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 10:37 PM UTC
Mushrooms are rebellions
They suddenly Appear Out Of Nowhere..
Like you
Like me
Like everything that gently set us free..
Be careful
They're Watching you
They Witnessing each and every step you make
But they are good
Delicious illusions dancing with the truth
as the poison is becoming remedy
In your room..
and we appear out of the blue like Mushrooms!
How cool is that?
can you feel it?
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TO SMILE BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE DOES :) IS:
- An act of anarchy, especially if you don't have any teeth :D
- Because all beings are blessed Bees
- Certain sign of cretenism or genuine Charm
- Denominative sense of digestion is Disturbing
- Ethically wrong Endeavor
- Fascinating and freeking fabulous if you intend to F. . .
- Gorgeous as Geometry
- Hot on Hotties
- Imature and implies lack of Integrity
- Jibberish
- Keen rediscovering so many Keens or Kens
- Lovely on Lovely ones (once)
- Magnificent Mimicry
- Negating the jokers(or your own) inteligence / numb is Numb
- Onthological urge to survive among jungle beasts - fangs are
quintessential urban asset. .or. . Smile-The-Power-Wilder-Open
- Pertinent in Parliament
- Quiet resistance behind a cold minded rebellions league - quitting in few minutes kicking some mthf harassing ****** pervert - to hard Quiver
- Real lovely strenght to feel and see each other happy
- Stupid on jokes = Joke Stupid
- Tactics to climb up the social ledder or/end further down the Thongs
- U can't admit you didn't get it; u2
- Violation of virtues as (in vino) Veritas
- Wonderful! To see people happy is healthy, positive and Wise!
- X times better than being in low energy
- You love your beloved and you are loved by your beloved love
- Zooming at the ' zoo' of human behaviour -
Amusing as Zorro-Art-Is-MusssssssssseumZ
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
Feel free to self-govern;
rebellions have shown consistency of
bringing more rebellions
but does this actually bring change?
Boston lead to Bastille
****** Sunday to Bolshevik
Each a milestone for this
sophisticated species.
Accomplished aliases of these turning points
were the pioneers of a never ending cycle:
discontent, revolution, reconstruction, new order.
To control brings demise
To revolt changes tides
and as long as the moon circumnavigates the sky,
the tides will predictably relapse.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 3:34 AM UTC
You are my former palace,
my walled city,
the cradle of my disinhibition.
You are my intricate
system of roadways.
(I know you by heart)
You incite rebellions
in my sleepy villages
and send me postcards
from dangerous places.
You are my lost transcripts;
we know each other the way river
knows sky— a cosmic nod,
a reflection of always.
Dec 31, 2010
Dec 31, 2010 at 10:06 AM UTC
PleaseListen,
FIRST OF SEPTEMBER ...
I was taken to a room
Where the hour is always bright
The panorama is always wall
And the look of it is white
I was trapped in there
Dying slowly for weeks
Or was it hours?
Or was it days?
I fear
I cannot bring myself to care
For all the useless time
That I was left in there
It was interesting to see
What the others had left behind
I spy my Blackbirds feathers
I spy the Demons eyes
I spy a Soldiers tears
Swearing they aren’t mine
I spy the Singers ears
I spy the Liars chimes
So this IS the plan!
To dissemble us all by hand
To pull us at the seams
So that we become bad dreams
Sudden revelation,
Rebellions true form
Made me think I’d stuff my pockets
And take those pieces to their homes
I spy a meal that belongs
To a tiny Porcelain Doll
I spy a book that is for
The Boy who just wanted a home
I spy a box with a puzzle inside
For the Quiet Lad who solves them all
I spy a flower of wondrous design
To blind the Girl who sees only flaw
But when I went to reach for these
I found I could not move
My arms were caught in binding
Those vultures are not fools
It was when they let me out
That I realized I’d left some things as well
I turned about to save them
While I was being dragged to hell
In that room
Of torturous peace
I forgot her white dress
And I lost my wings
That's all I have to say
NowTake me away, KIERAN J. CROW
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 6:27 PM UTC
In this poem I am not speaking to you
but to myself: As I write,
sentences form their own voices, their own
moods and opinions such as rebellions,
loves, harmony and disharmony. The universe
is not so perfect. My epiphany: A fathomless
consciousness is composed of collective mind
stretched across the magnetism of space only
to exist as ambitious matter—dense and absurd,
light and heavy; humanity has existed
for thousands of years in cold-slumber; unconscious
and inhumane; thrashing about in between
life and death where in the final moment
everybody longs for catharsis.
————————————————————————
From my second book: 'The Second Coming'
©dah / Stillpoint Books 2012
all rights reserved
"in the final moment
everybody longs for catharsis" —from Polish Poet Zbigniew Herbert
Search Amazon: "the second coming/dah"
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
New England is triumphant, as she maintains the historical roots of North America.
Rebellions were concocted in order to inform and subdue those who were impressionable.
It is unfortunate that truth was concealed by presumed greatness, and that the problem continues.
Political agendas prevail in the West in the name of consumerism, and the Great Architect of the Universe continues to unravel the delusion of a seemingly greater design. The obelisk will bow to cosmological establishments, and the flag of unity will no longer be recognised. I will now say goodbye to the President and his constituency.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
She stared blankly at the computer screen
With its flickering screen of judgement.
What are you looking at?
Silence. A screensaver.
Enough of that sass.
It was finally complete.
Her hair wearing its disheveled frizz like a badge of honor
From all-night typing
And two pots of coffee
Where her comb-fingers turned the smoothness of her hair
Into a stress-reliever
As she muttered madly to herself
(But quietly, so as not to wake the roommates
Who slumbered in their honey chambers
Away from the heart of her hive of activity).
She had buzzed all night
On a caffeine-high
That made her hands tremble
Her muscles ache
And her eyes hate her.
And now
With too much to do
And a limited time to do it in
She had to keep buzzing.
Coffee *** number three was carefully stored
In a travel mug
That she clutched to her clavicle
Just to keep the warmth that much closer to her hyped-up heart.
She made her stops at offices and libraries
Retrieving promised letters
And printing the labors of her night intensive
Before she could finally deposit it
Behind the glass windows
Of the scholarship office.
This is too much work for less-than-ideal odds.
But she had no time to dwell
On the gamble she had made
And paid in hours of wakefulness
And the inked-up peelings from tree corpses.
She rushed from class to class
Where she tried to speak in coherent sentences,
To dance with sharp choreography,
And to contribute to society
But her body hated her
Because she had betrayed it
And deprived it of the only thing that it truly loved in this world:
Sleep.
It would have its vengeance.
It would have its vengeance when she was old, creaky, and could no longer move.
But for now, her body made do with small rebellions
To demonstrate its displeasure.
Sentences were not sentences
And every turn, leap, and twist
Made her think longingly of sleep.
And her body laughed.
But at long last,
The sun set
The girl slept
And then the sun rose.
And this continued to happen
Many times.
It rose and it set
It rose and it set
It rose and it set
Until she had forgotten
And her body had forgiven
The sleepless night.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
When they read their “Proclamation”
There was silence, scattered laughter.
It was as if the town folk knew
those boys were soon for the hereafter.
For Seven Hundred years
The Irish nation wore her chains
and, although they chaffed at times,
her second nature they became.
Not comfortable exactly, but
the folk knew nothing better.
Unlikely to be changed, they thought,
rebellions cannot change the Weather.
Imperial might fell hard that week
on both the bold and the indifferent:
The City center left in flames,
Prisoners marched off to internment.
Then the executions followed,
one by one the brothers fell.
With every dawn their ranks grew thin,
but our opinions changed as well.
In the hearts of the indifferent
Love of country grew more dear:
Pride and a sense of Nationhood
and a new changed Atmosphere.
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 12:18 PM UTC
we built our love like Rome built an empire; we built it over years and generations of pregnant moments; we built it to conquer; we built it to last as if unaware of empires' propensity to crumble around those who loved it best. maybe that was the problem, that we loved our empire of adoration and not each other. perhaps we were too enraptured with how good we were together: we always made your friends jealous, we took the best photos together, my parents loved you better than they did me. maybe we were too wrapped up in We and forgot to worry about we. we fought our battles, our Pugachev's Rebellions and our Glorious Revolutions. we were so secure within the city limits we forgot there was a whole world out there, and by the time we tore down the walls to find a world awaiting, we were obsolete; we thought we hadn't needed anyone, and now no one needed us.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
Aug. 12. 1653.
Jehovah to my words give ear
My meditation waigh
The voyce of my complaining hear
My King and God for unto thee I pray.
Jehovah thou my early voyce
Shalt in the morning hear
Ith’morning I to thee with choyce
Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear.
For thou art not a God that takes
In wickedness delight
Evil with thee no biding makes
Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight.
All workers of iniquity
Thou wilt destroy that speak a ly
The bloodi’ and guileful man God doth detest.
But I will in thy mercies dear
Thy numerous mercies go
Into thy house; I in thy fear
Will towards thy holy temple worship low.
Lord lead me in thy righteousness
Lead me because of those
That do observe if I transgress,
Set thy wayes right before, where my step goes.
For in his faltring mouth unstable
No word is firm or sooth
Their inside, troubles miserable;
An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth.
God, find them guilty, let them fall
By their own counsels quell’d;
Push them in their rebellions all
Still on; for against thee they have rebell’d;
Then all who trust in thee shall bring
Their joy, while thou from blame
Defend’st them, they shall ever sing
And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name.
For thou Jehovah wilt be found
To bless the just man still,
As with a shield thou wilt surround
Him with thy lasting favour and good will.
1.2k
I only wanted you to sing to me in the voice of your sweetest destruction, burning my cities to the ground that we may waltz across the ashes of places we’ve never been.
I wanted to sip from your words like a poisonous wine, poured into my mouth from your gilded chalice’s venomous kiss.
For you have become the rose whose thorns rend my palms and the crimson that seeps forth is the seed from which we have cultivated the cruel garden of our pure intentions.
Be wary of the serpents that tarry hence, for the wounds they inflict are grievous.
Meanwhile, I, enshrouded in my self-inflicted intoxication have seen you hide your eyes among the stars of the night sky.
Veiled by the outstretched wings of passerine birds whose songs do bear witness to the echo of our temperate patience.
Was it a dream?
In truth, did you flee from this brittle stage of glass, where our actors spoke the lines in time to our subtle rebellions?
Nay, it must not be so, for you were always there.
As close to the light of day as the night sky, the lovers that never touched, yet you were always there.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
Close your eyes.
Take some time,
Are you feelin fine?
Beginning to unwind...
Be there battles,
Cries of ancient pains.
These lands arent ours to claim.
Dissention, rebellions and shame,
The fatal flaws of power...
The illusions it contains.
What do you want from our fileds of grain?
Or our mineral rich soils...
Dirt cheap oil. Taking leave with barrels...
If so prepare to do battle.
Cast the lands you walk asunder,
Pay attention...catch the thunder.
Be careful once ye ponder,
Rein in your thoughts of yonder.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
One.
There is always one.
I wanted to put down my pens.
Sell my politics.
And sheath my interest.
To become satisfied.
To live for yourself, not selfishly.
Not for tomorrow’s children
But your own.
Not the painting and writings and rebellions.
But your children.
For her in her perfection of heart and concern.
Discovering the ideal.
Donning the blue collar.
And feeling forever.
Forever her.
Picking where you sit.
A van.
Sunday glimpses.
A park.
You in concern now will never match which
Would
, Could
,would
Could have, but will not
Be.
We would have had daughters.
Of flesh
And not revolution.
With violins.
Violins and laughter.
We would have felt.
And felt more.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 1:37 AM UTC
These heaves and sighs and faults of mine,
They haunt me in my sleep;
These failures, mistakes, and disgraces,
They do not speak of me.
The shortcomings, embarrassments, rebellions
Just come out of the flame
Every part of me that I cannot quite tame:
The hips and thighs and zits that cry "I'm ugly, don't come near,"
Cheering on my bulliers, and bringing me to tears.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Let's fight!
Together as one
or we fall back to none!
Let's fight together
let's stand side-by-side!
Nothing shall stop us!
No one will break us!
Let's fight together,
One for all and all for one!
Yield to nothing and no one!
Fight!
For your mothers, your fathers,
sisters and brothers!
Exact the toll so great upon our foe,
let out a scream a mighty battle cry that only a true warrior would know!
Take no peace in your solitude,
and fortify your fortitude,
it's time to fight, we'll wait no more!
It's time we took it to our old foe's door!
The ones that oppress us, the ones that would deny us,
deny us no more for here come charging mightily,
for we will fight with the absolution of the Light brigade,
but never to falter,
no not ever slightly.
We'll take a beating, this holds true,
but we're never alone, in our ranks and files, we'll always have,
our sisters and brothers!
Link arms, bear arms take courage and gather what little pride we've left,
This fight's for you, me, and all the the others!
Fight and let your voice be heard,
for our rebellions shall start,
at the shout of a single word.
The small little spark,
our one little light,
So take up arms,
And Fight!
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC