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"socialism" poems
The horror, the rain, The misery, the pain. The factors of teenagehood And its ghostly being. From nasty rivalry, The silver teardrops quench the Hunger of discaring boys. They move on to their next victim. Words like love, hate, ***** Are thrown around and toyed with. Teenage socialism is a witch, Sweeping misery across the generation. Heartbreaking, the look in their eyes, Well up with tears, victims to lies. Teenagehood, it grasps you By its crooked claws. From your peace, it rips apart Your soul and leaves damage in its trail. Why do we have to suffer? Why can’t we return to the world? The world we loved and cherished. Toys and songs, now perished. Puberty, hatred, fear, They all add up to one phase in life. With its treacherous fangs. Hurt from distrust brings misery near. With sympathy to all, For a long journey ahead. Hold on to your sanity, For the reason you have previously read.
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Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
Teenagehood
I love my country: India , but I hate many of its rulers, as they speak for the poor and act for tycoons bellicose, and- Diversity sighs in armed Unity; The selfish corrupted in unity March ahead on graves crafty. I love my country: India , but August fifteenth : with freedom, opened all devilish forces out of Hell to fell all virtues. Grim faced Buddha smiles Like a nuclear Phantom ,his tears drip on tomb of Peace. No white dove sits on dome It bleeds in the lap of Buddha. If birth is the cause of gloom. who stops one from bloom? Dearth of berth clamour for Death of birth at the womb. I love my country: India , but Souls are free on lovely Earth Lay bodies strain to survive. A nominal word equanimity Gushes in landslide infirmity. Service becomes self –service, In black ink sleeps Socialism. Fear Neurosis like King Kamsa Keeps Liberty behind the bars. Healthy, wealthy Bharat Matha Groans in labour room for Santi. Note: 1). August fifteenth= 15 August 1947 when India became free from Briton. 2).Buddha=Gutham Buddha(Prince Sidhardha) who established Buddhism.3).Kamsa= The mythological character , uncle of Lord Krishna who chained even his sister Devaki out of the fear psychosis. 4),Bharat Matha= Indians consider Bharat/India as their Mother(Matha)-so it is Mother land not Fatherland for them .Santi/Shanti=a Sanskrit word used in Vedas and Upanishads of India which means Peace or Islam.
0
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 10:08 AM UTC
I love my country: India, but
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger, Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission, opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
0
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
Poem Entitled: "Martin Luther King"
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger, Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission, opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
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11
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
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18
No country’s history makes us proud. It is mere exploitation and colonization. the poor were suppressed and oppressed. The rich reveled in utmost luxury And the weak lived in extreme penury. The kings were fond of eulogy And the poets excelled themselves in their elegy. In the countries like India, the money was looted the temples were plundered, and the system was blundered And her progress was greatly hindered Slowly the kings and kingdoms vanished the so called democracies and socialism flourished the bureaucracy and plutocracy replaced autocracy Corruption and criminality maintained their status quo After Independence, a new class emerged in India. They became the rulers in the name of democracy. There have been un-imaginable scandals Money reached the Swiss bank like pearls in the ocean India is a poor country but the Indians are rich
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Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 3:59 AM UTC
BUREAUCRACY VERSUS AUTOCRACY
The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan To kingdom king and hell we've gone The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan We're paying more for that and this The calm ease swan The calm ease swan They're buying up the businesses The calm ease swan The calm ease swan Ain't no how gonna stand for this! The calm ease swan The calm ease swan That small-c ****** thunder-thighed witch The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan I can't wish you your birthday and other brothers say hey It's difficult to say Even harder here to stay The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan The calm ease swan This is the age of socialism This is the age of socialism We gotta end all socialism We gotta end this socialism Ain't no swan gonna fly by me in a summer breeze Gonna grab its neck, break it in half and ate it.
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Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
The Calm Ease Swan
In my late teens I would wonder What is The Purpose of Life? What should I Value? What is truly Good? But now at sixty six it seems so clear: Life per se is what matters. The wonderment Of selves That know they are selves. Of sentience married with intelligence. The miracle we call Life. At nineteen I said That the First Priority Was Survival. I wrote a thing called “The Bedrock” To grow this theme. And what was it that had to survive? It was living beings Nurtured by Mother Nature. I am a “Lifist” If you will: Cherishing all that lives. Humanist Plus And more than Conservation. Health and Wellbeing For The Common Good. A touch of Socialism And Equal “Opps”. I coined the word “Positivism” To sum it all up. Is this all poetry? Maybe not. But the greatest poem lies all around us: The very world and universe In which we live. Paul Butters © PB 18\2\2019.
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 5:09 AM UTC
Values
I once saw a nation on fire, just their home a family's desire. The government was corrupted by liars, with an economy trapped in quagmires? To end the schism they gave Wall Street socialism, leaving 'The People' impoverished and tired.
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
Inflation Rhyme
Hypocracy Mandatory. Gullibility Mandatory. Insensitivity Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Immaturity Mandatory. Childishness Mandatory. Monarchy Mandatory. Capitalism Mandatory. Conservatism Mandatory. Terrorism Mandatory. Corruption Mandatory. Incompetence Mandatory. Socialism Mandatory. Dictatorship Mandatory. Militarism Mandatory. Liberalism Mandatory. Bhuddism Mandatory. Islam Mandatory. Christianity Mandatory. Judaism Mandatory. Hinduism Mandatory. Vedism Mandatory. Hatred Mandatory. Anarchy Mandatory. Jealousy Mandatory. Nationalism Mandatory. Fascism Mandatory. Racism Mandatory. Lies Mandatory. Hypocracy Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Heart Disease Mandatory. Cancer Mandatory. Idiocy Mandatory. Eco-Nazism Mandatory. All of us Humans. Of all Five Colours. Wherever we be. Whatever we do. However we "see" ourselves. What do we call ourselves now?. How about shallow nitpickers?. Or celebrity obsessed morons?. Or religious hypocrits?. Or Democrats?. Or Socialists?. Or Revolutionaries. Or just plain "nice folks"?. Or supporters of oligarchy  policies?. Or immature backpackers?. Or government assassins of integrity?. Or juicy *********** Or swift tongued ******** ticklers?. no matter how many lie dead or injured as a result of our obfuscation and avoidance. As if poets have the explanation to life except in strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding words. When "poets" are the voluntary slaves of Mind and Conditioned Identity.. As if poets had the ***** to go beyond all these things. As if . Scrape the Moons suface and you will find a delicate Castello Blue Cream Cheese.
0
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Title Optional
Hypocracy Mandatory. Gullibility Mandatory. Insensitivity Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Immaturity Mandatory. Childishness Mandatory. Monarchy Mandatory. Capitalism Mandatory. Conservatism Mandatory. Terrorism Mandatory. Corruption Mandatory. Incompetence Mandatory. Socialism Mandatory. Dictatorship Mandatory. Militarism Mandatory. Liberalism Mandatory. Bhuddism Mandatory. Islam Mandatory. Christianity Mandatory. Judaism Mandatory. Hinduism Mandatory. Vedism Mandatory. Hatred Mandatory. Anarchy Mandatory. Jealousy Mandatory. Nationalism Mandatory. Fascism Mandatory. Racism Mandatory. Lies Mandatory. Hypocracy Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Heart Disease Mandatory. Cancer Mandatory. Idiocy Mandatory. Eco-Nazism Mandatory. All of us Humans. Of all Five Colours. Wherever we be. Whatever we do. However we "see" ourselves. What do we call ourselves now?. How about shallow nitpickers?. Or celebrity obsessed morons?. Or religious hypocrits?. Or Democrats?. Or Socialists?. Or Revolutionaries. Or just plain "nice folks"?. Or supporters of oligarchy  policies?. Or immature backpackers?. Or government assassins of integrity?. Or juicy *********** Or swift tongued ******** ticklers?. no matter how many lie dead or injured as a result of our obfuscation and avoidance. As if poets have the explanation to life except in strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding words. When "poets" are the voluntary slaves of Mind and Conditioned Identity.. As if poets had the ***** to go beyond all these things. As if . Scrape the Moons suface and you will find a delicate Castello Blue Cream Cheese.
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63
If you grasp tight to your                          individualism, Give in to all the                       romanticism, Rid of any          materialism, Confide within                    professionalism, Drop all acts of                     favoritism, Eject from any              vulgarism, Open up to            socialism, Advocate          activism, Realize you are an                           organism, Forget about any                      perfectionism, And explore inside                          transcendentalism, You will look up into complete mesmerism of how all the stars are symbolism for the billion versions of creationism that you've ever lived, and will live.
0
Sep 13, 2011
Sep 13, 2011 at 8:57 PM UTC
Untitled
Ach so! thou much-praised and lauded Milwaukee, Thou delightful Wisconsin Stadt of boundless pulchritude, Verily hath History endowed thy blessed name With the noisomely beery breath of immortality! And thank the benign Almighty in highest Heav’n That thy delectable streets and arboreal squares Doth remain heretofore untouched by unseemly civic strife, Despite thy renown as veritable midwife to Sewer Socialism! Yet, tear-inducing recollections have I of this dwelling-place And herewith followeth heart-rending remembrances Of what transpired when I inveigled a plump young Mädchen there For a brief sojourn of untrammelled concupiscence. Alas, alack, after gorging her impetuous appetites On a gargantuan repast of mitteleuropäische delicacies, Methinks her poor heart gave up survival’s uneven battle And, warbling a soft piffero-reminiscent sigh, she expired. ‘Twas too tragic thus to depart this happy welkin in mid-prandials, Emitting a final flatus, sweet adieu, from her rearmost aperture, Leaving me, her poor forlorn swain, bereft and solitary, Faced with mine host’s request for instant monetary rendition. From that naughty place of my bereavement fled I, Clutching to my ***** the contents of her silken purse, Determined to partake in untrammelled ***** licence elsewhere, Ere the chanticleer’s dawn croak wake the inebriated citizens.
0
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 12:21 PM UTC
Tragically Gay Memories of Old Milwaukee (poem by Edna's ******** brother Siegfried)
In the Presidential Palace, the steaks are served up seared. There’s an excellent wine cellar for meals expertly prepared. The Palace is cool in summer; in winter it's toasty warm, And Maduro and his spouse are always safe and free from harm. In the streets of Venezuela there is anger and despair. Inflation is the problem but why should Maduro care. The store shelves are nearly empty; most people live in fear There is ****** done in daylight and the sense that chaos nears. This was once a beautiful, Prosperous land, the envy of the South. Then a populist Socialist came to drive investors out. Now a nation, resource rich, has been importing oil, a nation whose own oil reserves are the greatest in the world. His critics?- dead or imprisoned; the media is controlled There’s no term limits on his rule. Voters do as they are told. Demonstrators, even peaceful, can be shot down in the street While Maduro sips his wine and decides what next he’ll have to eat.
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
The Blessings (?) of Venezuelan Socialism
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
0
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
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18
Pencils are opportunities, it dulls as you write, mistakes slowly burns the red rubber **** and sharpeners are luxuries or government help or socialism. But what about cheap pencils, whose lead dulls or breaks easily. Pencils are all equal if you look it in the outside but what you can't see is that these cheap pencils does not have a solid strip of lead inside, it has some small quantities of opportunities to write. I need to sharpen it once in a while so I can clearly write. But not everyone has sharpeners nor extra pencils, some even bought this kind of pencil with all the money they have and they cannot write their stories and their happy endings, when the luster of their leads are constantly fading into white, swallowed by the open free-market place of ideas blank paper. And I can't blame the poor vendor who sold me these substandard opportunities. However, I am blaming the owners of factories, for making such lousy imitations, for exploiting my hunger to write. I am blaming the government, for allowing such pencils to ever exist! Their lust for power, their greed takes away my opportunities to write clearly and continuously, I am blaming them for assuming that all of us have sharpeners! We should not pay for social sharpening services! Sharpeners and pencils should be free!
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
cheap pencils
A fruit and vegetable vendor, simple and humble, Always seen with his handcart, alongside the road, which was parked. On my way back from the gym, Bought the fruits and vegetables daily from him. **Neither the quality! Nor the variety!!** But his  greetings "Namaste Didi" with that innocent smile, caught my attention for a while. That friendly gesture made me feel familiar. Balming the lonely and tired soul, in the foreign soil, in this city of strangers, accommodating many dwellers. While lost in own thoughts, or busy in the cell-phone chats. But this simple guy never failed, seeing me come, he sweetly hailed. "Namaste Didi" Once, when I resumed after a vacation, Found dozers, excavators busy in construction. An all new road, footpath for beautification, It's the "smart city" project's much awaited implementation. I realized, that something was amiss! "Namaste Didi", welcoming, friendly voice! I looked for him all around, Standing near a pole, he was found. Neither cheerful, nor fruit or vegetable? Uttered him, now the business not feasible. Not allowed to park his cart anywhere, As "The Smart City Mission" started here. Go to the big stores now, for the daily needs, Roadside vendors pulled out like weeds. Neither friendly smile, nor simplicity! "Namaste Didi" swallowed by "the smart city"!! Do we really need a "smart city", or simply a city? addressing the needs of all, retaining its simplicity. The social warmth and existing friendliness, Accommodating all with self sustenance. **Isn't socialism, just a myth! No offence, this way I think!!**
0
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 5:45 AM UTC
Namaste Didi
A fruit and vegetable vendor, simple and humble, Always seen with his handcart, alongside the road, which was parked. On my way back from the gym, Bought the fruits and vegetables daily from him. **Neither the quality! Nor the variety!!** But his  greetings "Namaste Didi" with that innocent smile, caught my attention for a while. That friendly gesture made me feel familiar. Balming the lonely and tired soul, in the foreign soil, in this city of strangers, accommodating many dwellers. While lost in own thoughts, or busy in the cell-phone chats. But this simple guy never failed, seeing me come, he sweetly hailed. "Namaste Didi" Once, when I resumed after a vacation, Found dozers, excavators busy in construction. An all new road, footpath for beautification, It's the "smart city" project's much awaited implementation. I realized, that something was amiss! "Namaste Didi", welcoming, friendly voice! I looked for him all around, Standing near a pole, he was found. Neither cheerful, nor fruit or vegetable? Uttered him, now the business not feasible. Not allowed to park his cart anywhere, As "The Smart City Mission" started here. Go to the big stores now, for the daily needs, Roadside vendors pulled out like weeds. Neither friendly smile, nor simplicity! "Namaste Didi" swallowed by "the smart city"!! Do we really need a "smart city", or simply a city? addressing the needs of all, retaining its simplicity. The social warmth and existing friendliness, Accommodating all with self sustenance. **Isn't socialism, just a myth! No offence, this way I think!!**
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55
Oh, Progress! We found you at the back of The movie theater, spidered around a boy And we watched. Progress, couldn’t you Wait til the previews were over? At least we could tell he was gentle. Which reminds me of the story of the father Who beat his son until the son Could beat back, and after the son Killed his father he went cross country Beating everyone on the way Beating the mailman, the bar back, the students He kept on traveling until he knew he was Unbeatable And he traveled more and went on beating When he met his dad in down in Santa Fe They sat down to drinks and talked About beatings and beatings Then they kept traveling West. Yes, Progress you were a ***** girl Ignoring whatever went up on the screen. 18 seconds of mutilated armies and a Noble Charmer’s Ascent to the throne. 17 seconds of painstaking laughter and a fat man. 19 seconds of a young man’s rise to success His defeats, resilience, his ceaseless winking And his moral fiscal triumph in the end. 16 seconds of naughty men in suits drinking highballs. For a movie theater, the chandelier was immense. Dangling, finely cut glass Suspended over the audience, crystals tapering Down to rows of translucent points.
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Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 1:54 AM UTC
The Case for Socialism
Democracy What is it, really? An illusion, if you ask me A system making you think you can choose it The system plays you a great trick Use my home land, a case study. She's flawed from when she used the military Canada lost sight for morality The United Kingdom then becomes a general market even though it's a Monarchy Wake up! Democracy is only a trick Russia is still in Capitalism China is still most Socialist till this day; She's still practicing socialism Arabia is better off with Federalism How then do you think Democracy is real? She's flawed and ill Makes you to **** Not minding if it's your kin I still root for Monarchy, I get to know my king And even the military, the soldiers act by order. So what then is Democracy?
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May 4, 2023
May 4, 2023 at 3:39 PM UTC
Democracy
we're bombarded by the American Dream but what we fail to realize is that to dream, you have to be asleep but remember, your soul is your own to keep False consciousness runs rampant through the world Ninety percent of American media owned by the same five companies makes TV and the news seem so mundane but when I think, I realize it's all of us to blame the only power the system has is what we give we need to let go of hate, and let live when in Rome you step outside your comfort zone, and when you expand your horizons, the whole world can make you feel alone, what I've come to realize is there is so much more than this when we die all of our fear gives way to bliss and on that spiritual transformation we can let go of what we miss In each of our crowns lies the infinite and we know that it doesn't matter, all the petty **** According to Marx, economy is the root of society and in capitalism, our thirst for money is ironic and funny We seek to provide for ourselves and those we love but when we have to much, the hand doesn't fit the glove In every cellphone, laptop, and gaming device lies a mineral mined behind our blind eyes tantalum is mined in the Congo, and in 2000 people were forced from their poor housing to mine this mineral so you and I could get a ps2 from Santa, while they barely got by I've learned even the poorest here, Have opportunities barely realized, We can change the world if we dismantle disguise There is a balance for everything, You can't have capitalism without socialism, our social structure is but a prism
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
A Nightmare in Capitalism
we're bombarded by the American Dream but what we fail to realize is that to dream, you have to be asleep but remember, your soul is your own to keep False consciousness runs rampant through the world Ninety percent of American media owned by the same five companies makes TV and the news seem so mundane but when I think, I realize it's all of us to blame the only power the system has is what we give we need to let go of hate, and let live when in Rome you step outside your comfort zone, and when you expand your horizons, the whole world can make you feel alone, what I've come to realize is there is so much more than this when we die all of our fear gives way to bliss and on that spiritual transformation we can let go of what we miss In each of our crowns lies the infinite and we know that it doesn't matter, all the petty **** According to Marx, economy is the root of society and in capitalism, our thirst for money is ironic and funny We seek to provide for ourselves and those we love but when we have to much, the hand doesn't fit the glove In every cellphone, laptop, and gaming device lies a mineral mined behind our blind eyes tantalum is mined in the Congo, and in 2000 people were forced from their poor housing to mine this mineral so you and I could get a ps2 from Santa, while they barely got by I've learned even the poorest here, Have opportunities barely realized, We can change the world if we dismantle disguise There is a balance for everything, You can't have capitalism without socialism, our social structure is but a prism
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34
how abstract are the problems of whiteness? socialist meeting whiteness is socialism gone wrong in itself look it up its secret agreements that are no secret anymore the contracts of whiteness modified in America whiteness is a conspiracy on humanity whiteness is a conspiracy theory to be white is to conspire to deny that it itself is capitalism socially constructing a world that cannot reflect the fact that it is conspiring against others in every associated breath conspiring and justifying by thinking others are conspiring against it it was the first agitator the first conspiracy in America was whiteness slavery would not be possible if whiteness did not conspire to **** to teach killing to educate conspiracy to teach how to call **** something else enforce a system to justify its theory a system to justify it is a theory but thats all it ever was a bad theory and while whiteness has been conspiring the others have been human beings trying to teach whiteness the way out that is what understanding black history is the black experience is the way for whiteness to regain its humanity to stop this dangerous conspiracy theory that studies every other field of study and society keeps begging exposing where focus needs to be stop conspiring whiteness please and stop calling it capitalism
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Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
be polite and stop calling it capitalism
Mao Zedong’s revolution deposed the ancient, 5000 year old rule of Dynastic China. In doing so he espoused the continuous violent struggle by contradictory forces within society to produce a perpetual disequilibrium of revolt against intellectualism and Confucian principle and practice. With the global collapse of Communistic systems, the wily genius of the diminutive, Deng Xiaoping, breathed new life into the faltering rule With a cunning rebranding of “Socialism with Chinese Characteristics”, he maintained the stability of Chinese Communist kleptocracy until relatively recent times. But the middle class awakening of Tiananmen Square and the recent Hong Kong massed protest, has brought into focus the demands of an increasingly educated, increasingly affluent, Chinese society’s expectation and demand for increased democratic rights and freedom and a more just system of the Rule of Law. The day of the old, strong arm, autocratic rule is over. China is emerging, quite naturally, into a world of increased information freedom, where the seeking of each individual’s betterment and independence promises a brighter future of personal dignity, increased self-esteem and an emerging sense of high anticipation. President Xi Jinping’s Chinese Communist Party is now presented with the challenge to moderate in order to survive. To endeavour to embrace and meld the old concepts of Confucian harmony to the vaulting expectations of China’s new world beckoning. M. Denmark, Western Australia. 5 October 2014
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
China Must Change.
Mao Zedong’s revolution deposed the ancient, 5000 year old rule of Dynastic China. In doing so he espoused the continuous violent struggle by contradictory forces within society to produce a perpetual disequilibrium of revolt against intellectualism and Confucian principle and practice. With the global collapse of Communistic systems, the wily genius of the diminutive, Deng Xiaoping, breathed new life into the faltering rule With a cunning rebranding of “Socialism with Chinese Characteristics”, he maintained the stability of Chinese Communist kleptocracy until relatively recent times. But the middle class awakening of Tiananmen Square and the recent Hong Kong massed protest, has brought into focus the demands of an increasingly educated, increasingly affluent, Chinese society’s expectation and demand for increased democratic rights and freedom and a more just system of the Rule of Law. The day of the old, strong arm, autocratic rule is over. China is emerging, quite naturally, into a world of increased information freedom, where the seeking of each individual’s betterment and independence promises a brighter future of personal dignity, increased self-esteem and an emerging sense of high anticipation. President Xi Jinping’s Chinese Communist Party is now presented with the challenge to moderate in order to survive. To endeavour to embrace and meld the old concepts of Confucian harmony to the vaulting expectations of China’s new world beckoning. M. Denmark, Western Australia. 5 October 2014
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found she had broken in was naked but for my dress shirt unbuttoned but covering her shoulders on my bed reading my copy of Dostoevsky I had the NY Times in my hand the cigarette burnt down my finger like a reminder to wake up let it burn pain had left my being blonde and sweet , not the blonde of Marilyn Bridgette but the sanctified sweet of Faye Dunaway , smoke lingered wafted tobacco and burnt flesh simmering told her, anytime, didn't expect this, she paid me no attention acted or read like she was engrossed in the greatest thoughts of social reform or the realisms of crime and punishments maybe debating socialism and capitalism there naked in my shirt taking the novelists cue I undressed laid down acting casual worldly when she asked me the oddest question you like Dostoevsky we debated the rest of the day week night dark and days bright she left such a sweet scent on my shirt the window she busted has never been fixed
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May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
eternal broken window
it should bother you that ive been alone in my room all afternoon with my homework and have only done five problems it should bother you that i delete my internet history day after day after day but its only because i dont want anyone to see that ive been reading the works of liars and ****** and thieves it should bother you that you didnt know this about me but it doesnt my inner communism or socialism or fascism or racism or feminism or radicalism should probably be something of your concern but its not you dont care that i sit here and drown in the words of dead poets or revolutionaries or just people no you dont care you stopped caring when i said no its my life not yours and slammed that door in your face and you took one too many of those sweet little pills it should bother you that youre dead and gone but it doesnt, it doesnt, it doesnt and it wont though you still hang about me you miserable ghost just sit there in the air above my head and just dont care no matter what i do i cant make you go away cant make you see what i see cant make you come back to me
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Oct 16, 2011
Oct 16, 2011 at 11:18 PM UTC
my ghost.
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret,Kenya;[email protected]) Sembene Ouasmane the son of a fisherman the son of wolof tribesmen the owners of Atlantic you are a bad liar, my kinsman and foreman why didn't you wait for me to grow up you only belied to me for your to die earlier i begged for your pipe for i also to **** it with passion you told me to hold on until i grow up only for you to accede to July death in 2007 i am tortured in this life without without you agonized by daily chores without a glance at the fume of smokes being blown from the magnificent ceramic pipe on your mouth, i wanted you teach me what Maxim Gorky and Emile Zola taught you i wanted to learn from you what you learned at the Moscow cinema school was it cinematographic Marxism or filmographic socialism that you learned? i wanted to get you alive so that we can sing together the songs of Cedo and Xala, why were your gods collecting the pieces of wood; was it humility and humanism? I wanted to see the powerful words of human side of governance coming from you sober gentle mouth onto African plateau that is replete with commonaplace selfish power struggles, i will build a monument in respect of your service to African literature and your service to protection of humanity;both Arabic and African your service to humanity as you forgave a French woman who stole your book only to publish it under her name in a dint of ****** wham pam pams.
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
Ode to the pipe of Sembene Ouasmane