"swastikas" poems
Just a wicked peacenik’n quick draw from the Paw
Game of Thrones’n the Shah, cRussian bones of the law
And still spewing the news like the red dragon’s maw
When the baby-skull splitters want nuclear winter
Ideal New Cold steel and send Chernobyl shivers
Down Roman Republicans’ severed headlines
Till there’s no more dead kids on for prophet front lines
I’m in exile sharpenin’ [sic]kles in style
Pyongyang’n Kuomintang climate denials
Erasing their nation-hate racial profiles
Outpacing their skinhead disgraces by miles
Shell casin’ this place like the Nuremberg trials
For Fords sellin’ swastikas stockpile bibles
Defiled by Normandy tide genocidals
Fresh meat off the boat spreadin’ Plague mercantiles
I smile and **** ‘em with kindness
Then grind
Battle tax in my acid bath
Salt Marchin’ prime
Because WAR IS THE CRIME
I’m the Clown Prince of Rhyme,
Level 9 state of mind
Like the state of Rakhine
The Black Hand before time
Runnin’ Africa’s Luciest Sky Diamond mine
I’m the ronin alone in
The monkey god shrine
And my guile’s reprisal’s Versailles treaty signed
Strippin’ pride from the Rhine
‘Till your Motherland’s mine
Swine
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:37 AM UTC
relaxing? relaxing would be a sin against myself. see God spun and wove golden bits of wisdom in these curls that are mine. see these curls spring loud with
songs of my Nubian
mothers and war cries of my Rasta fathers. see these curls bounce proud to the rhythm of tribal drums and the foot prints of my sisters from Manila reside
there as they roll
lumpia between the coils and springs. see these curls have moved sandstone bricks cross deserts, building divine architecture so perfectly aligned
with cosmos and
planets until Moses told Pharaoh to Let My People Go. these curls have traveled cross oceans and triangles packed like sardines squalid below the decks
of ships. see these
curls have been ***** by the nasty ***** in the big house and suffered sun strokes in cotton fields. see these curls sing loud and strong. See these curls
were branded and forced
at gunpoint behind ******** barbed wire fences gassed to death in the name of so called purification. see these curls bleed the pain of fire hoses and dog
bites and whites
only signs. see these curls wont back down gainst no burnin crosses gainst no swastikas gainst no elephant ******** talkin all that jazz on fox and cnn. see
these curls dance
wildly off beat to straight rhythms that drone on in 4/4 time c major sixty bpm. see these curls are Mas and my Grammas. see my curls are too proud to sit
back and chill and won’t take no **** or heat or hot air. see these curls cannot be contained in braids or scarves or jars of creamy crack. see
these curls dare you
to force them to
coerce them to
straighten up
their act. my curls.
my curls. my curls.
my curls. my curls.
my curls. my curls.
my curls. my curls.
my curls will not
******* relax.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 12:03 PM UTC
*Hail to Caesar now, Zeig Heil
Noble Eagle Standard flies,
Schutzstaffel in midnight legion
Disciplined long stabbing knives.
Heil to goose stepped march precision
Noble Eagle Standard soars,
Centurian’s in closed division
Screaming stukas strafe azores.
Fist to leather armour snapping
Stiff arms high in thronged salute,
Hail to Caesar sing the Legions
Zeig Heil Waffen SS brute.
Discipline of Shield defences
Stabbing lances follow swords
Clouds of arrows fill the heaven
Dachau’s ovens roast the hoards.
Winged Aquila flies the column
Wielded high as Roman’s would,
Black and white with red blood running
Swastikas where Jews once stood.
Europe caste in corpses rotting
Women screaming in the land,
Deutsch and Roman locked forever
Destroyers both, in history’s hand.*
Marshalg
In response to Anselm’s “Two Translations”
25 March 2013
On a cool and dry Autumn afternoon.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
Shhhhh - Titanic was Sunk by a Bilderberg
Albino rabbis, the Illuminati,
Protocols of the Elders of Zion -
The evidence seemed a little spotty
‘Til a radio guy had us wonderin’ and sighin’
Fluoridation by the New World Order
Backed by the Trilateral Commission
A scheme to open our southern border
To crop circles – that’s his suspicion
Area 51, the Templar Knights
FEMA lurking in the Bohemian Grove
Perfidious Rothschilds through menace and fright
Guarding a Jewish-Viking treasure trove
Poor Newfoundland is Occupied by ****** rats
Who scheme in secret tunnels beneath St. John’s
Brewing magic potions in Macbethian vats
In Rodentian rituals from the Age of Bronze
The Priory of Sion, runes, swastikas, the Vril
Roswell and the Thule Society
No wonder the air is darkly chill:
We all live in a conspiracy!
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC
Domestic destruction
Detonation
Dehumanization
People are breathing their last breaths
But we will call it
civilian casualty
Bullets ringing like bells through the air
Bones cracking like the whips we have "long since" retired
A terrorist without the skin tone
Or the turban
Is called
troubled
We keep the death toll
Like keeping score
Pointing fingers
But never at home team
The flag is colored
Red with our blood
White like our pride
And blue like our sorrow
And you boo when people kneel
Seeing them pushed down by the weight of the injustices we perpetuate
****** you off
Because people died for that flag
Like the unnamed slaves-turned-soldiers
Who never had a choice when bullets littered their backs
Dying for a country they didn't ask to be in
The taking knees
Doesn't honor that proud history
It doesn't fit the status quo
The picture of
America the brave
And home of the free(d)
The freedom of speech
Our favorite card to play
Until someone has something important to say
So build the wall ten feet higher
We gave children dreams
now we ship back the dreamers
To a land they never dreamt of
Ten feet higher
We shot unarmed kids in the back
Blaming the bullet
Not the blue who pulled the trigger
Ten feet higher
We marched with swastikas held high
Alt right
Neo ****
No, sorry
White Pride
Ten feet higher
Add a foot for every black life that didn't matter enough
Add a foot for every white ****** that walked free
Add a foot for every family ripped apart
Add a foot for every terrorist that came from inside this country
Add a foot for every hate crime left unnoticed
Add a foot for every transgender person who can no longer serve
Add a foot for every injustice that will never be addressed
Add a foot for every life we could've saved in Puerto Rico
Red with blood
The flag is red with the blood we wiped from our hands.
Be aware
Be angry
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 10:20 AM UTC
It's so hard to tell
What I believe-
Because I'm smart, and educated, right?
And what I was just desperate to believe-
Because when you want a quick fix bad enough, isn't the shortcut subconscious?
How can you tell
What they believed-
Because they wore swastikas, and killed millions of innocents, you know?
And what they were just desperate to believe-
Because when you're ruled by destitution and terror, isn't the conformity subconscious?
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
come one, come all.
gather 'round, gather 'round the table.
you'll find your invitations—
corporations' coupons—packed
between stories of Indigenous
People, shot by militarized cops in riot gear.
Water Protectors defending the river
while a black snake rears to poison the well.
tear gas, rubber bullets, and concussion grenades
replace ragged blankets draped in smallpox.
a tradition rooted in genocide
upheld in frigid North Dakota.
no need to ponder
the lasting legacy
of a leader who campaigned
on "hope" and "change." a hypocrite
continuing a tradition of colonial
aggression, lying by omission.
just another facet
of his presidential profession.
so drown the news of a fascist's
election in gravy and eggnog,
viscous substances to gorge
yourselves on. Nazis vandalizing
black churches with swastikas
must've escaped your notice.
vacuous, preaching
that Jesus is the reason
for the season, but i think
your savior would flip
your Thanksgiving Table over.
flimsy pretenses of gratitude
discarded hours later, chasing deals
before your stomach could even settle.
your brand new 4K TV
cost you over $4K, but couldn't give you
a clearer picture. you continue to disregard
the smoke signs and headlines,
pursuing the material.
consume!
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
6 sides
Latent enabler
Counterpoint to truth, amorphic
Dada to life
Callous Birth
Islands dripped in collagen
Mystic, effortless life
Tempests laden iota in tune
Riven
Licked flat, obtuse
Crescent stench
Pagan cells
Hazard the thought
Pick the Atlantic cherry
Reach further than comfort
Pushed & consumed
Spirited paste
Jesuit told in spheres
Lament interest, matted quill
Totem, Saxon tribe
Inflections of hearsay
And Swastikas on parade
Guilt of the blacksmith, undecided
The arms of tablets
Ashtrays & tropospheric light
Another page turned
Capsules filled with perfume
Loose skin lost in relics
Temporal lobe
Cautioned indignant
Pardon the prose
Sonnets dissolved in ethanol
Caricatures of the fleeting
Of our cities last broadcast
Absorbed by times gone
Glittered pestilence
Canceling subordinates, powdered Semtex
Soup of the sewer
Lift the butcher above your head
Nazca lines
Suborbital
Silk screen with *****
Horizontal qualm toward revulsion
Incursion
Calm, cued and cubed
Lab coats coated in pharmaceuticals
Base compound, ionic bond
Covalent CNS
Sympathetic vibration
Default to nature
To theorise movement
Agitate intolerance, turbulence
Beautiful thought
Calculate causality
Passenger of licked lips
Token to latex
Croft in ear, to taste
Unlaced tips, rings of halothane
Bliss
Intrigued with obscurity
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
I can be engaged
In anything,
When the sense of shovel comes.
Smothering cold ashes.
I'm looking at your eyes
Til the sockets stand out;
I'm planting gardens
For growth;
When I installed the French Doors,
I heard the lid clap.
Everything's archetypal:
Snakes, cruciforms, swastikas.
Looking up, they become more profound
In the contrails and puzzles beyond my skies.
When Neanderthal heeled the first blade
To plant something or someone,
He didn't know the theory of the chaos effect.
His effect.
This would suffice as my last poem.
My pen is my shovel,
And I'm heeling it now,
Into you.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
Nacarat swastikas drawn on eggshell blue washed paper
some half chewed crayons.
At least the box says that they're non-toxic
she watched the history channel all weekend long and like most kids her interest peaked then waned, spiraling and spiraling like a Messerschmitt BF- 109, it's tail spewing smoke
Adolf and Eva no longer held her attention and no longer romanticized her vision, then, she took off her rose tinted heart shaped glasses and ran outside to the sunshine
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
say something sluggish nonsense
about swastikas; never say a word
about what you really mean; control
every image and never crack a smile;
erase any history that you don't like;
get yourself a gun and play with knifes;
spread rumours about your abnormal
and strange religious behaviours; make
odd symbols no one including yourself
do not understand; confuse and indulge
yourself into oblivion about your
superior self; surround yourself with
friends with odd behaviours and odd point
of views; pick some crucial enemies;
behave like a ***** say evil
disrespectful and rude things about
something everybody really loves; if no
one pays attention get drunk and drive a
car without a license; do some heavy
drugs; get into some violence; *********
your suicide; leave everybody confused
with some hints about your sympathies
to small violent groups in society; let
yourself wear and be seen among symbols
representing all that is harsh and grim;
if asked limit your language to yes or no;
if nothing of this works die young pull
an automatic gun and pop pop pop pop
pop pop pop watching muthafuckas drop.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
In your granddad’s bookcase
was a book you liked
with a blue hardback cover
with German warplane
pictures in it
and you loved to study
the photographs
even though
the words
were too big
or long
for you to read
and on that Sunday
you sat
while the parents talked
and studied
the bookcase
hoping your granddad
would get it out for you
if he saw you
looking that way
long enough
but the parents talked
and the grandparents
listened or talked too
and the book stayed put
in the bookcase
and you stared
and counted the books
on either side
taking in
the various colours
and sizes
on the shelves above
and below
and how neat
they were placed
and tidy
and well polished
it all was
but the book
kind of attracted you
with its German warplanes
with the Swastikas
on the wings and sides
and some pictures
had Spitfires
and Lancaster bombers
with red white and blue
on the sides and wings
but that Sunday
Granddad didn’t
get out the book
and hand it to you.
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC
I felt you, Hemingway
Ghost lit in pale blood electric lights
On the downslope of the Holy Spirit's introspective nightmare
Cacophony in the bathroom stall, savages at war in the gutter
Kings in their drug fueled conquest of modern man's spatial reasoning
Angry cyclops guards the gate to the Fourth ***** Garden of Eden
The learned alcoholic in wino wonderland bursting at the seams for a halogen fix
Cultist camoflaged in black leather combat boots spiked iron altercation
Public domain genocide for the demure nihlist lower class
Never give those ******* the satisfaction
I felt you in Rapture, like lilac swastikas dripping melted candle wax down my frail spine
Blunt force trauma tinged lunacy for the jet engine martyrs, screaming at the empty spaces
For the imposters stigmatized by yellow journalist hype men
And the psychos just along for the ride
Be shameless in your insanity,
Be reckless in your love
Live forever to spite the mad god that molded your angry heart
And **** the sun with your empathy
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
echos bounce off of the
brown wooden walls
in this room;
i am stuck.
a constant ringing -
reminder of a time
that once was.
i survive through
dates carved on
bridges in front of
waterfalls.
you avoid eye contact -
and i notice.
we are swastikas
and *** leaves
drawn in permanent marker
on the
insides of
desks.
we are phone numbers
scrawled on
bathroom walls -
do not call me for a good time.
we are cigarette burns -
on purpose.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
Every night,
when the sun disappears
behind the tenements,
I sit on my balcony
to witness
the sinister congregation
pooled under
the lone
flickering
streetlamp.
Fueled on petrol,
they holler
explicit expletives
holding their palms
high in the air
Heiling Hitlers
as they middle-finger
the scooting passer-byers.
And I think to myself,
what ******* fools,
they'd be the first to go
if the **** ever went down,
carrying their inked swastikas
like totally clueless mad clowns.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:32 AM UTC
and they couldn’t afford fifteen
dollars. they couldn’t afford the
news. neither could i, and the reali-
zation that feeling alone is not being.
when comments on survival, i see
only a frozen bridge and man wrap’d
in tatter’d seat cover. he stuff’d new-
spaper from feet to neck. using
others’ trash to survive, staying warm
thru mans’ attrocities document’d.
by the news we couldn’t afford. and
i see all the faces i used to recognize.
i remember now of the familiar faces
but don’t have the time to justify
their lies. nor do i have the mind. it’s
been a minute, and lions flood a
room advanced from normality.
regain control.
and my name is
Ziun,
and my words are
**** it,
and my thoughts
cryptic,
and my body
homeless again.
found in transition, runoff from
times of scavenging and foregoing
shame. found in transition from times
of the blood-flood’d valleys of dest-
roy’d lips. found in transition,
head’d from reliance to other
persons. to other substances. found
in transitions and the wind has rav-
aged my body. and i’d wail, wail in
spite of lazed vibrating chords.
his vocalizing:
– don’t forget to sneak off and
get rid of it. just show up with
wine, then we're *******
and this cat knew my first girl after
she was no longer; and this cat knew
my first girl of regret after i pass’d
her up.
– calling sister midnight
a first time thru, palms face opposite
as we extend right. to feel in diffe-
rent tones as this train of thought is
derailing, digressing, regressing to
swastikas.
(lemme redact that)
and please think no less of my words
based on the words chosen,
based on these infinite love-affairs.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 8:55 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
and i'm the dumb one that said
you weren't dumb
and you were the intelligent
one that said hello,
may as well enjoy the rocky
mountains with mt. rushmore
shave; to keep it all under wraps
of a hollywood movie that
never made it from scripts.
yeah you asked to be treated as dumb,
and i asked to be treated as a wizard,
evidently both of us became middle class
debates on parenting:
white man's neck muscles became
black girl's hypnotic celluloid hip arsenal,
and i faked a combo of each in comparison:
while rolling a wine barrel
up a steep hill for a laughing horse
in exchange for three magic kidneys
that were categorised
as baked bean & ****** oh lawd the giant
came from the heights,
with the magic goose ******** out golden
swastikas rather than eggs of date printed 1933,
holocaust unknown khaki shirts prior the schwarzhemd
recycled for marble marrow statues,
like gold carat plating of statues with beneath
only cheap metal... but then the atomic authenticity
measuring cylinder in u-turn to provoke
such animate extension into theory of inanimate things
that animate things provoked inanimate things to ask
whether the one promise be worth blind acceptance
or eyed destruction via logic itemising in coupling
of two base words - after all neither psyche or logic are
acidic words... they're base words... but coupling two
base words leaves an aftermath of acidic reactionaries
more prone than the singleton word **** that's acidic.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 7:16 PM UTC
As darkness gathered, so did the crowds;
They were like moths drawn to the flame.
The swastikas were everywhere-
All loyal party members came.
The piled the books by Freud and Jung
And untermenchen of their kind
And tossed them on the bonfire there
as part of Hitler’s grand design.
The flames leapt high into the night
Fueled by these UN-German books
As Goebbels watched in rapt delight,
at how he had these people rooked.
As darkness gathered so did the crowd
to witness this unholy scene,
unaware that those who start with books
will end up burning human beings.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 8:11 AM UTC
O where
O where
can my baby be,
is she a dead mystery,
now just ancient history?
I have million dollar questions
& I stand alone,
holding the bag
with an empty billfold.
She wore swastikas
on her forehead like scabs,
etchings that perhaps
blinded her heart &
the bitterness did flow,
a lifeblood
hardening her sweet-soul.
She acted bold,
took wild risks,
pulled people from the line-up,
taking potshots with their emotions,
play-acting with other humans,
as if she were the only one
with heart break.
Well,
little did she know,
she had no monopoly on pain,
I did.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
Swastikas and tiki-torches
marching down the streets
Golf corse khaki and white polo shirts
the new uniform of thoughts of hate
It's stupidity at its finest
and ignorance in full bliss
Swastikas and tiki-torches
and I know, I know...
racism and violence are no laughing matter...
But look at these ******* ********
With their swastikas and tiki-torches
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC
the Übermensch anomaly was short-lived
in Europe, it was never going to be an
idea with a survival instinct for longevity
in Europe, just like Copernicus became
defamed by Galileo...
the Übermensch idea was prescribed to America,
what with their Superman and Batman,
and Spiderman... Nietzsche didn't
include America for a reason, you could
speak of Emerson as the zenith of American
intellectual output as the reason,
but that's hardly a reason...
tourists to the Caribbean will know,
Americans think they're super-human...
i hate the American accent, it's like a mosquito
buzzing in my ear, i just call them
the spaghetti swindlers of tongue, gluttonous
harp players... and because Nietzsche didn't
mention America, America is his most fertile
and therefore most arable landmass...
i mean... Nietzsche reached pop culture status,
just because he didn't mention American culture
in his writing... and that's how the Americans
see themselves, the righteous inheritors of
the post-Nazi mindset... Übermensch Staaten Amerika...
hence the reason they're on the gold medal leader boards
at the Olympics... i.e. if those ******* aren't doped
then i'm doped...
not doping athletes makes chemists redundant,
dope the whole lot of them, let's make it fair.
yes, i know it should have been written as staaten,
but i like my diacritical arithmetic, and given the
umlaut, i count that as a hidden extra a... so from
staaten into stäten;
oh yeah... and **** your "perfect" teeth;
or the Penguin cover for Philip K. Dick's
man in the high castle, the red & white stripes
with 50 swastikas.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 8:21 PM UTC
was the sort of kid who would have enjoyed dissection
in high school, savoring in the permission to cut
a once-living creature open and scrutinizing the
parts that made it function,
would draw swastikas on furniture and his toys and his
body not because he was an Anti-Semite but
because he thought that maybe it could start
a conversation or two,
mixed different sorts of alcohol in his bedroom and claimed
to have brewed them himself because he
thought he could impress the friends whose
palates discerned the lie,
wore heavy black clothing even in the drought of August
or red-colored contacts and a black eye
eye patch because he thought this made
him intimidating,
carried an immense duffel bag packed so tightly with
dull-edged katanas and worn flasks
and umpteen lighters and extra shoes
it could not be fastened,
always smoked two cigarettes in succession as if
to say to everyone: smoking is
cool and now I am twice as cool
as the rest of you,
was so captivated by explosions that he poured
drain cleaner into bottles filled with *****
of tin foil and claimed to be creating a
recipe for ******
did not believe in moderation and always ate until
his gut distended or drank until his pallid
skin greened or smoked until the bag was
empty and the room a thick haze,
never cared that his name was simply Rob and his
ever-changing group of friends insisted
upon adding the ‘Crazy’ since he had been young,
never hesitated to share his time or money
or material possessions with every person he knew,
never made apologies for his outlandish and
off-putting behavior because he was comfortable as
himself and was committed to enjoying
every moment of every day with unabashed gusto.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC