Favorite Political Poetry

Discussion in 'Politics & Current Events' started by Mel Brennan, Jan 29, 2003.

  1. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    The Cry of a Generation, by Shu Ting

    I wouldn't dare appeal
    to my own misfortune.
    The end of youth for me,
    the spiritual deformity,
    the countless, sleepless nights,
    leave painful memories.
    One after another I overturned the wrong;
    one after another I shook off the spiritual bonds,
    until in my heart was left
    one vast ruin . . .
    But I was standing then,
    surveying a broad horizon,
    and no one by any means
    can put me down ever again.

    If I lay in a common grave of "revolutionary martyrs,"
    the inscription on the stone will be erased by green;
    if I have experienced life behind bars,
    argued with handcuffs about the nature of the law,
    if I am haggard or pallid,
    doing the hardest labor one does for a crime,
    time without probation,
    if any of these were mine, it were merely
    my misfortune--
    I have forgiven others already;
    after all my tears and anger
    I have calmed down.
     
  2. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    "Roll-Call," By Nathaniel Graham Shepherd

    “CORPORAL GREEN!” the Orderly cried;
    “Here!” was the answer loud and clear,
    From the lips of a soldier who stood near,—
    And “Here!” was the word the next replied.

    “Cyrus Drew!”—then a silence fell;
    This time no answer followed the call;
    Only his rear-man had seen him fall:
    Killed or wounded—he could not tell.

    There they stood in the failing light,
    These men of battle, with grave, dark looks,
    As plain to be read as open books,
    While slowly gathered the shades of night.

    The fern on the hillsides was splashed with blood,
    And down in the corn, where the poppies grew,
    Were redder stains than the poppies knew,
    And crimson-dyed was the river’s flood.

    For the foe had crossed from the other side,
    That day, in the face of a murderous fire
    That swept them down in its terrible ire;
    And their life-blood went to color the tide.

    “Herbert Cline!”—At the call there came
    Two stalwart soldiers into the line,
    Bearing between them this Herbert Cline,
    Wounded and bleeding, to answer his name.

    “Ezra Kerr!”—and a voice answered “Here!”
    “Hiram Kerr!”—but no man replied.
    They were brothers, these two; the sad wind sighed,
    And a shudder crept through the cornfield near.

    “Ephraim Deane!”—then a soldier spoke:
    “Deane carried our regiment’s colors,” he said,
    “When our ensign was shot; I left him dead
    Just after the enemy wavered and broke.

    “Close to the roadside his body lies;
    I paused a moment and gave him to drink;
    He murmured his mother’s name, I think,
    And Death came with it and closed his eyes.”

    ’T was a victory,—yes; but it cost us dear:
    For that company’s roll, when called at night,
    Of a hundred men who went into the fight,
    Numbered but twenty that answered “Here!”
     
  3. Heródoto

    Heródoto New Member

    Mar 2, 2003
    Guanajuato, México
    Roque Dalton 1935-1975 (Poet and "guerrillero" from El Salvador. Killed in 1975)
    [​IMG]
    Poema de amor


    Los que ampliaron el Canal de Panamá
    (y fueron clasificados como "silver roll" y no como "gold roll"),
    los que repararon la flota del Pacifico
    en las bases de California,
    los que se pudrieron en las cárceles de Guatemala,
    México, Honduras, Nicaragua,
    por ladrones, por contrabandistas, por estafadores,
    por hambrientos,
    los siempre sospechosos de todo
    ("me permito remitirle al interfecto
    por esquinero sospechoso
    y con el agravante de ser salvadoreño"),
    las que llenaron los bares y burdeles
    de todos los puertos y capitales de la zona
    ("La gruta azul", "El Calzoncito", "Happyland"),
    los sembradores de maíz en plena selva extranjera,
    los reyes de la pagina roja,
    los que nunca sabe nadie de donde son,
    los mejores artesanos del mundo,
    los que fueron cosidos a balazos al cruzar la frontera,
    los que murieron de paludismo
    o de las picadas del escorpión a la barba amarilla
    en el infierno de las bananeras,
    los que lloraron borrachos por el himno nacional
    bajo el ciclón del Pacifico o la nieve del norte,
    los arrimados, los mendigos, los marihuaneros,
    los guanacos hijos de la gran puuta,
    los que apenitas pudieron regresar,
    los que tuvieron un poco mas de suerte,
    los eternos indocumentados,
    los hacelotodo, los vendelotodo, los comelotodo,
    los primeros en sacar el cuchillo,
    los tristes mas tristes del mundo,
    mis compatriotas,
    mis hermanos.
     
  4. Heródoto

    Heródoto New Member

    Mar 2, 2003
    Guanajuato, México
    Amiri Baraka Aka Leroi Jones 1934--- (Poet, writer, teacher and political activist from Newark, USA)
    [​IMG]
    Somebody Blew Up America

    by AMIRI BARAKA

    Somebody Blew Up America

    They say its some terrorist,
    some barbaric
    A Rab,
    in Afghanistan
    It wasn't our American terrorists
    It wasn't the Klan or the Skin heads
    Or the them that blows up ni-gger *
    Churches, or reincarnates us on Death Row
    It wasn't Trent Lott
    Or David Duke or Giuliani
    Or Schundler, Helms retiring

    It wasn't
    The gonorrhea in costume
    The white sheet diseases
    That have murdered black people
    Terrorized reason and sanity
    Most of humanity, as they pleases

    They say (who say?)
    Who do the saying
    Who is them paying
    Who tell the lies
    Who in disguise
    Who had the slaves
    Who got the bux out the Bucks

    Who got fat from plantations
    Who genocided Indians
    Tried to waste the Black nation

    Who live on Wall Street
    The first plantation
    Who cut your nuts off
    Who rape your ma
    Who lynched your pa

    Who got the tar, who got the feathers
    Who had the match, who set the fires
    Who killed and hired
    Who say they God & still be the Devil

    Who the biggest only
    Who the most goodest
    Who do Jesus resemble

    Who created everything
    Who the smartest
    Who the greatest
    Who the richest
    Who say you ugly and they the goodlookingest

    Who define art
    Who define science

    Who made the bombs
    Who made the guns

    Who bought the slaves, who sold them

    Who called you them names
    Who say Dahmer wasn't insane

    Who? Who? Who?

    Who stole Puerto Rico
    Who stole the Indies, the Philipines, Manhattan
    Australia & The Hebrides
    Who forced opium on the Chinese

    Who own them buildings
    Who got the money
    Who think you funny
    Who locked you up
    Who own the papers

    Who owned the slave ship
    Who run the army

    Who the fake president
    Who the ruler
    Who the banker

    Who? Who? Who?

    Who own the mine
    Who twist your mind
    Who got bread
    Who need peace
    Who you think need war

    Who own the oil
    Who do no toil
    Who own the soil
    Who is not a ni-gger*
    Who is so great ain't nobody bigger

    Who own this city

    Who own the air
    Who own the water

    Who own your crib
    Who rob and steal and cheat and murder
    and make lies the truth
    Who call you uncouth

    Who live in the biggest house
    Who do the biggest crime
    Who go on vacation anytime
    Who killed the most ni-ggers
    Who killed the most Jews
    Who killed the most Italians
    Who killed the most Irish
    Who killed the most Africans
    Who killed the most Japanese
    Who killed the most Latinos

    Who? Who? Who?

    Who own the ocean

    Who own the airplanes
    Who own the malls
    Who own television
    Who own radio

    Who own what ain't even known to be owned
    Who own the owners that ain't the real owners

    Who own the suburbs
    Who suck the cities
    Who make the laws

    Who made Bush president
    Who believe the confederate flag need to be flying
    Who talk about democracy and be lying

    Who the Beast in Revelations
    Who 666
    Who know who decide
    Jesus get crucified

    Who the Devil on the real side
    Who got rich from Armenian genocide

    Who the biggest terrorist
    Who change the bible
    Who killed the most people
    Who do the most evil
    Who don't worry about survival

    Who have the colonies
    Who stole the most land
    Who rule the world
    Who say they good but only do evil
    Who the biggest executioner

    Who? Who? Who?

    Who own the oil
    Who want more oil
    Who told you what you think that later you find out a lie

    Who? Who? Who?

    Who found Bin Laden, maybe they Satan
    Who pay the CIA,
    Who knew the bomb was gonna blow
    Who know why the terrorists
    Learned to fly in Florida, San Diego

    Who know why Five Israelis was filming the explosion
    And cracking they sides at the notion

    Who need fossil fuel when the sun ain't goin' nowhere

    Who make the credit cards
    Who get the biggest tax cut
    Who walked out of the Conference
    Against Racism
    Who killed Malcolm, Kennedy & his Brother
    Who killed Dr King, Who would want such a thing?
    Are they linked to the murder of Lincoln?

    Who invaded Grenada
    Who made money from apartheid
    Who keep the Irish a colony
    Who overthrow Chile and Nicaragua later

    Who killed David Sibeko, Chris Hani,
    the same ones who killed Biko, Cabral,
    Neruda, Allende, Che Guevara, Sandino,

    Who killed Kabila, the ones who wasted Lumumba, Mondlane,
    Betty Shabazz, Die, Princess Di, Ralph Featherstone,
    Little Bobby

    Who locked up Mandela, Dhoruba, Geronimo,
    Assata, Mumia, Garvey, Dashiell Hammett, Alphaeus Hutton

    Who killed Huey Newton, Fred Hampton,
    Medgar Evers, Mikey Smith, Walter Rodney,
    Was it the ones who tried to poison Fidel
    Who tried to keep the Vietnamese Oppressed

    Who put a price on Lenin's head

    Who put the Jews in ovens,
    and who helped them do it
    Who said "America First"
    and ok'd the yellow stars

    Who killed Rosa Luxembourg, Liebneckt
    Who murdered the Rosenbergs
    And all the good people iced,
    tortured, assassinated, vanished

    Who got rich from Algeria, Libya, Haiti,
    Iran, Iraq, Saudi, Kuwait, Lebanon,
    Syria, Egypt, Jordan, Palestine,

    Who cut off peoples hands in the Congo
    Who invented Aids
    Who put the germs
    In the Indians' blankets
    Who thought up "The Trail of Tears"

    Who blew up the Maine
    & started the Spanish American War
    Who got Sharon back in Power
    Who backed Batista, Hitler, Bilbo,
    Chiang kai Chek

    Who decided Affirmative Action had to go
    Reconstruction, The New Deal,
    The New Frontier, The Great Society,

    Who do Tom Ass Clarence Work for
    Who doo doo come out the Colon's mouth
    Who know what kind of Skeeza is a Condoleeza
    Who pay Connelly to be a wooden negro
    Who give Genius Awards to Homo Locus
    Subsidere

    Who overthrew Nkrumah, Bishop,
    Who poison Robeson,
    who try to put DuBois in Jail
    Who frame Rap Jamil al Amin, Who frame the Rosenbergs,
    Garvey,
    The Scottsboro Boys,
    The Hollywood Ten

    Who set the Reichstag Fire

    Who knew the World Trade Center was gonna get bombed
    Who told 4000 Israeli workers at the Twin Towers
    To stay home that day
    Why did Sharon stay away?

    Who? Who? Who?

    Explosion of Owl the newspaper say
    The devil face cd be seen

    Who make money from war
    Who make dough from fear and lies
    Who want the world like it is
    Who want the world to be ruled by imperialism and national
    oppression and terror violence, and hunger and poverty.

    Who is the ruler of Hell?
    Who is the most powerful

    Who you know ever
    Seen God?

    But everybody seen
    The Devil

    Like an Owl exploding
    In your life in your brain in your self
    Like an Owl who know the devil
    All night, all day if you listen, Like an Owl
    Exploding in fire. We hear the questions rise
    In terrible flame like the whistle of a crazy dog

    Like the acid vomit of the fire of Hell
    Who and Who and WHO who who
    Whoooo and Whooooooooooooooooooooo!

    *Obviously the original word is "ni-gger" without "-" i changed it, otherwise you would see just ******. Anyway you can see the original version just clicking on the below link
    More from Amiri Baraka and this poem in particular: http://www.amiribaraka.com /speech100202.html
     
  5. TheWakeUpBomb

    TheWakeUpBomb Member

    Mar 2, 2000
    New York, NY
    Club:
    Seattle Sounders
    What an utter piece of shit. You left out "moron" and "bigot" after "political activist".
     
  6. Sardinia

    Sardinia New Member

    Oct 1, 2002
    Sardinia, Italy, EU
    Ya parte el galgo terrible
    (Pablo Neruda/Victor Jara)

    Ya parte el galgo terrible
    a matar niños morenos.
    Ya parte la cabalgata
    la jauria se desata
    exterminando chilenos
    ay que haremos, ay que haremos
    ya parte la cabalgata,
    ay que haremos, ay que haremos.

    Con el fusil en la mano
    disparan al mexicano
    y matan al panameño
    en la mitad de su sueño.

    Buscan la sangre y el oro
    los lobos de San Francisco,
    golpean a las mujeres
    y queman los cobertizos.

    Maldita sea la hora
    y el oro que se deshizo
    y para que nos vinimos
    de nuestro Valparaiso.
    Ya matan a los chilenos,
    ay que haremos, ay que haremos
    en la mitad de su sueño
    ay que haremos, ay que haremos.

    Casitas del Barrio Alto
    (Victor Jara)

    Las casitas del Barrio Alto
    con rejas y antejardin,
    una preciosa entrada de autos
    esperando un Peugeot.
    Hay rosadas, verdecitas,
    blanquitas y celestitas,
    las casitas del Barrio Alto
    todas hechas con resipol.
    Y las gentes de las casitas
    se sonrien y se visitan.
    Van juntitos al supermarket
    y todos tienen un televisor.
    Hay dentistas, comerciantes,
    latifundistas y traficantes,
    abogados y rentistas.
    Y todos visten policron,
    juegan bridge, toman martini-dry.
    Y los niños son rubiecitos
    y con otros rubiecitos
    van juntitos al colegio high.
    Y el hijito de su papi
    luego va a la universidad
    comenzando su problematica
    y la intringulis social.
    Fuman pitillos en Austin mini,
    juegan con bombas y con politicos,
    asesina generales,
    y es un gangster de la sedicion.
    Y las gentes de las casitas
    se sonrien y se visitan.
    Van juntitos al supermarket
    y todos tienen un televisor.
    Hay rosadas, verdecitas,
    blanquitas y celestitas,
    las casitas del Barrio Alto,
    todas hechas con resipol.

    ¿Quien mato a Carmencita?
    (Victor Jara)

    Con su mejor vestido bien planchado, iba
    temblando de ansiedad sus lagrimas corrian
    a los lejos gemidos de perros y de bocinas
    el parque estaba oscuro y la ciudad dormia.
    Apenas quince años y su vida marchita
    el hogar la aplastaba y el colegio aburria
    en pasillos de radios su corazon latia
    deslumbrando sus ojos los idolos del dia.

    Los frios traficantes de sueños en revistas
    que de la juventud engordan y profitan
    torcieron sus anhelos y le dieron mentiras
    la dicha embotellada, amor y fantasia.

    Apenas quince años y su vida marchita
    huyo, Carmencita murio
    en sus sienes la rosa sangro
    partio a encontrar su ultima ilusion.

    La muchacha ignoraba que la envenenarian
    que toda aquella fabula no le pertenecia
    conocer ese mundo de marihuana y piscina
    con Braniff International viajar a la alegria

    Su mundo era aquel, aquel del barrio Pila
    de calles aplastadas, llenas de griterias
    su casa estrecha y baja, ayudar la cocina
    mientras agonizaba otros se enriquecian.

    Los diarios comentaron: causa desconocida.

    Huyo, Carmencita murio
    en sus sienes la rosa sangro
    partio a encontrar su ultima ilusion.

    Abre tu ventana
    (Victor Jara)

    Maria, abre la ventana
    y deja que el sol alumbre
    por todos los rincones
    de tu casa.
    Maria, mira hacia afuera
    nuestra vida no ha sido hecha
    para rodearla de sombras
    y tristezas.
    Maria ya ves,
    no basta nacer, crecer, amar,
    para encontrar la felicidad.
    Paso lo mas cruel,
    ahora tus ojos se llenan de luz
    y tus manos de miel
    tus manos de miel
    tus manos de miel
    Maria...

    Tu risa brota como la mañana
    brota en el jardin.
    Maria.
     
  7. GringoTex

    GringoTex Member

    Aug 22, 2001
    1301 miles de Texas
    Club:
    Tottenham Hotspur FC
    Nat'l Team:
    Bolivia
    Dalton was a patriot, a fighter, and a damn fine poet. You had to ruin things by quoting that no-talent hack Baraka in your next post.
     
  8. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    "Rock'n'Roll Mythology," by Bob Holman

    gotta ROCK'N'ROLL MYTHOLOGY
    gotta total apocalypse pathology
    got the most PostHysterical Poetry
    & if it ain't comin' at you then it's breezed on by

    got the heavy-duty political intent
    got the worm farm free-form diamond noodle content
    I got breezy ways & boppin' rays
    when the word explodes the mother lode is where I'm at

    & it's light here but you cannot see
    doesn't matter anyway since you cannot breathe
    you see the words mean, they're putting on the squeeze
    that could strangle you -- hey, what's that mean

    say what he say
    say what he say
    he said he say
    he said he said
    say what he said
    go on & say he said
    what'd he say he said
    that's what he said
    that's what he said to say
    he said to say

    open up the book w/ yr finger hook
    & scan it w/ yr television eyes
    (televisionize televisionize televisionize televisionize)
    you can stick it w/ yr eyes
    stick out yr tongue & memorize
    it's just you reading
    the book is breathing
    time's new dimension settles in

    you are dancing on the edge of a thin thin dime
    cause you are marching to the phone booth w/ a refugee line
    you are baking in the kitchen when the walls cave
    you are crawling through the desert w/ a loony rave
    you are crossing all the x's for the love you save

    hey who
    hey who he
    hey you
    hey who you talkin' about, me?
    hey listen to me, hey listen to me, hey listen to me, hey
    listen to me
    hey listen to me, hey listen to me, hey listen to me, hey
    listen to me
    I got to say what I say
    to say what I see, I say

    I don't see what you say
    coming straight out of me
    hey I'm coming straight out of you
    why don't you try on that shoe
    try it on for size
    might give you a rise

    cause everything I said it, I said it cause I read it
    & everything I said it, I said it cause I read it
    & everything I said it, I said it cause I read it
    & everything I said it, I said it cause I read it

    gotta debunk all of those trashy ideals
    gotta reintegrate all the ideas you steal
    "I understand" means I stand under yr heel...

    woowie, hey man, you gotta light
    because really I think yr getting just a little bit too
    heavy.
    well I realize that. why don't you give me a break -- & a
    half.
    I could break yr arm. wouldn't do you any harm.
    it's in the book, see. just take a look-see.
    means what it says. says what it means.
    "it's" only it. seewhat I mean.
    I mean to say. there's nothing to it.
    the book's overdue. so go renew it.

    sing a song w/ a rock'n'roll band
    play the guitar w/ a feather in yr hand
    but the feather would rather fly than be plugged in
    & the poetry just has to be freed from the pen

    gotta gumbo anarchistic sensibility
    & I do not exclude those who reject me
    sail the manic Titanic awash in the wine-dark sea
    where the language is the water & the rocks are poetry

    gotta riptide w/ all hands going down
    into hot pants where the love runs aground
    gotta whamma jamma lamma w/ the low-down
    meltdown core
    gotta relax the wax, Max, to de-rug the floor
    gotta rocket in my pocket that can sock it more & more

    & the central calmness of my Being is predicated quite
    simply
    in the act of Seeing both within & without in a
    remarkable fashion
    to which one must remark as a part of that act

    gotta ROCK'N'ROLL MYTHOLOGY
    gotta total apocalypse pathology
    got the most PostHysterical Poetry
    & if it ain't comin' at you then it's breezed on by

    got the heavy-duty political intent
    got the worm farm free-form diamond noodle content
    I got breezy ways & boppin' rays
    & when -- hey, is this the end?
    where it begins
    ooo what a cheap shot
    what a piece of cake shot

    well. I suppose y'd rather leave it w/ a little
    downward trail
    o, a demitasse of denouement to daily detail
    not a bad idea in the kitchen making almond cakes
    & pies
    what a pleasant surprise
    go ahead & take a taste
    one tiny slice
    how nice
     
  9. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    "Conservative" Anthem

    And, for the opposition, the "conservatives," a poem that distills all their obfuscation, all their boisterous ranting, to its essence:

    ANTHONY FINDLAY
    by Edgar Lee Masters


    BOTH for the country and for the man,
    And for a country as well as a man,
    ’Tis better to be feared than loved.
    And if this country would rather part
    With the friendship of every nation
    Than surrender its wealth,
    I say of a man ’tis worse to lose
    Money than friends.
    And I rend the curtain that hides the soul
    Of an ancient aspiration:
    When the people clamor for freedom
    They really seek for power o’er the strong.
    I, Anthony Findlay, rising to greatness
    From a humble water carrier,
    Until I could say to thousands “Come,”
    And say to thousands “Go,”
    Affirm that a nation can never be good,
    Or achieve the good,
    Where the strong and the wise have not the rod
    To use on the dull and weak.
     
  10. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    "The Life," Mystic

    This is for warm days
    That drift away
    While the sun sets
    And the ghettos play
    Long nights on
    A hot summer's block
    Where you sip your brew
    And never touch your Glock
    This is for eyes
    That cry like yours and learn
    To smile again
    (Rise above the pain)
    This is for you and your crew
    The ones that's true
    Will always love you
    No matter what you do

    'Cause it's the life
    The life, the life
    (The life, the life)
    It's the life, the life, the life
    (life)
    It's the life, the life, the life
    (your life, your life)
    It's the life, your life, my life
    (life)

    This is for soldiers
    Who bust they guns (Bust)
    In the name of freedom
    Not the game of fun
    True Queens
    Who raise they kids
    Implement the knowledge
    Show 'em how to live (Show 'em)
    This is for those
    Who stand in line to
    Feed their babies (I love you)
    While were runnin'
    Out of time
    This is for
    The Injustice, behind bars
    Our lovers, our leaders
    Our people...

    'Cause it's the life
    The life, the life
    (The life, the life)
    It's the life, the life, the life
    (life)
    It's the life, the life, the life
    (my life, my life)
    It's my life, your life, our life
    (life)

    Don't let 'em
    Mis, misguide you
    They'll have you actin'
    Like the sun don't shine
    And the sky
    Ain't never blue
    But you know and
    I know it's all about survival
    This struggle of our people
    Is like that unrivalled
    The politicans they
    Was never in control (Never)
    It's deeper then that
    A true battle for the soul (Watch out)
    What they want is to
    Bring us to our knees
    So my people guard
    Your life by any means...

    This is for those
    Who know we all gon' die
    It was set up that way
    By an Infinite Power
    Those that know
    Who feel the change
    In the belly of the best
    And the mental strains
    This is for those who have
    Their own Fallen Angels
    Tryin to find a way home
    This is for everybody
    (Everybody)
    And anybody is so...life

    'Cause it's the life
    The life, the life
    (The life, the life)
    It's the life, the life, the life
    (life)
    It's the life, the life, the life
    (my life, my life)
    It's my life, your life, our life
    (life)
     
  11. xbujinkan

    xbujinkan New Member

    Aug 22, 2001
    Elsewhere
    "Beat Street" excerpt, Grandmaster Melle Mel and the Furious 5

    A Newspaper Burns in the Sand
    And the headlines say
    MAN DESTROYS MAN
    Extra! Extra! Read all the bad news
    On the War on Peace that everybody would lose.
    The Rise and Fall, The Last Great Empire,
    The sound of the whole world caught on fire,
    The Ruthless Struggle, the Desperate Gamble,
    The Game that left the whole world in shambles.

    The cheats, the lies, the alibis,
    And the foolish attempt to conquer the skies,
    “Lost in Space,” and what is it worth?
    The President just forgot about Earth.
    Spending multi-billions, and maybe even trillions,
    The cost of weapons ran into zillions.
    There’s gold in the street and there’s diamond under feet,
    And the children in Africa don’t even EAT.

    Flies on their faces,
    They’re living like mice,
    And their houses
    Even make the ghetto look nice.
    The water tastes funny; it’s forever too sunny,
    And they work all month and don’t make NO money.
    A Fight for Power,
    A Nuclear Shower,
    People shout out in the Darkest Hour,
    Sight unseen, and voices unheard,
    And finally the Bomb gets the Last Word.

    Christians kill Muslims,
    Germans killed Jews,
    And everybody’s bodies are used and abused,
    Minds are poisoned, Souls are polluted,
    Superiority Complex is deep rooted.
    Allegiance and license,
    People got prices,
    Egomaniacs control the Self-Righteous,
    Nothing is Sacred, nothing is Pure,
    So the Revelation of Death is our cure.

    Hitler and Caesar,
    Custard and Regan,
    Napoleon, Castro, Mussolini and Begin.
    Genghis Khan and the Shah of Iran,
    Mixed with the blood of the weaker man,

    The People are in Terror,
    The Leaders made the Error,
    And now they can’t even look in the Mirror,
    ‘Cause we got to suffer,
    While things get rougher,
    And that’s the reason why we got to get Tougher,
    Learn from the Past,
    Work for the Future,
    And don’t be a Slave to no Computer,
    ‘Cause the Children of Man Inherits the Land,
    And the Future of the World is in Your Hands.

    So just throw your hands in the air,
    And wave ‘em like you just don’t care,
    And if You Believe that You’re the Future
    Scream it out and say
    “OH YEAH!”
     
  12. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    lol...so its "Favorite Political Tracks" now is it?

    Sinaloa Cowboys - Springsteen

    Miguel came from a small town in northern Mexico.
    He came north with his brother Louis to California three years ago
    They crossed at the river levee, when Louis was just sixteen
    And found work together in the fields of the San Joaquin

    They left their homes and family
    Their father said, "My sons one thing you will learn,
    for everything the north gives, it exacts a price in return."
    They worked side by side in the orchards
    From morning till the day was through
    Doing the work the hueros wouldn't do.

    Word was out some men in from Sinaloa were looking for some hands
    Well, deep in Fresno county there was a deserted chicken ranch
    And there in a small tin shack on the edge of a ravine
    Miguel and Louis stood cooking methamphetamine

    You could spend a year in the orchards
    Or make half as much in one ten hour shift
    Working for the men from Sinaloa
    But if you slipped the hydriodic acid
    Could burn right through your skin
    They'd leave you spittin' up blood in the desert
    If you breathed those fumes in

    It was early one winter evening as Miguel stood watch outside
    When the shack exploded, lighting up the valley night
    Miguel carried Louis' body over his shoulder down a swale
    To the creekside and there in the tall grass, Louis Rosales died
    Miguel lifted Louis' body into his truck and then he drove
    To where the morning sunlight fell on a eucalyptus grove
    There in the dirt he dug up ten-thousand dollars. all that they'd saved
    Kissed his brothers lips and placed him in his grave
     
  13. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    "Compared to What?" by Les McCann and Eddie Harris

    Another song, but oh well...

    Another night a night of love
    A hangin' on me, push an' shove
    Posession is the motivation
    That is hangin' up the goddamn nation
    Looks like we always end up in a rut

    Everybody now
    Tryin' to make it real...compared to what?
    Come on baby, now

    Slaughter houses are killin' hogs
    Twisted children are killin' frogs
    Poor dumb rednecks rollin' logs
    Tired old lady, kissin' dogs
    I hate the human love of that stinkin' mutt

    I can't use it
    Tryin' to make it real...compared to what?
    Come on baby, now

    The President, he's got his war
    Folks don't know just what it's for
    Nobody gives us rhyme or reason
    Half of one doubt, they call it treason
    We chicken feathers all without one nut

    Goddamn it!
    Tryin' to make it real...compared to what?
    Sock it to me

    Church on Sunday, sleep and nod
    Trying to duck the wrath of God
    Preachers fillin' us with fright
    They all trying to teach us with what they think is right
    They really got to be some kind of nut

    I can't use it
    Tryin' to make it real...compared to what?
    Lover, baby, hey

    Where's that bee and where's that honey
    Where's my god and where's my money
    Unreal values, a crass distortion
    Unwed mothers need abortion
    Kinda brings to mind ol' young King Tut

    He did it now
    Tryin' to make it real...compared to what?
     
  14. GringoTex

    GringoTex Member

    Aug 22, 2001
    1301 miles de Texas
    Club:
    Tottenham Hotspur FC
    Nat'l Team:
    Bolivia
    Red, White and Blue by Toby Keith

    American girls and American guys will always stand up and salute;
    Will always recognize
    When we see ol' glory flying,
    There's a lot of men dead,
    So we can sleep in peace at night when we lay down our head.

    My daddy served in the army,
    Where he lost his right eye.
    But he flew a flag out in our yard 'til the day that he died.
    He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me
    To grow up and live happy in the land of the free.

    Now this nation that I love has fallen under attack.
    A mighty sucker punch came flying in from somewhere in the back.
    Soon as we could see clearly through our big black eye,
    Man we lit up your world like the Fourth of July.

    Hey Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list,
    And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist.
    And the eagle will fly,
    And there's gonna be Hell,
    When you hear Mother Freedom start ringing her bell!
    It's gonna feel like the whole wide world is raining down on you...
    Brought to you courtesy of the Red, White and Blue!

    Oh, Justice will be served and the battle will rage.
    This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage
    You'll be sorry that you messed with the US of A
    'Cuz we'll put a boot in your ass
    It's the American way.

    Hey Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list,
    And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist.
    And the eagle will fly,
    And there's gonna be Hell,
    When you hear Mother Freedom start ringing her bell!
    And it'll feel like the whole wide world is raining down on you...
    Brought to you courtesy of the Red, White and Blue!

    Of the Red, White and Blue..
    Of my Red, White and Blue...
     
  15. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    W.S. Merwin (1)

    GREEN FIELDS

    By this part of the century few are left who believe
    in the animals for they are not there in the carved parts
    of them served on plates and the pleas from the slatted trucks
    are sounds of shadows that possess no future
    there is still game for the pleasure of killing
    and there are pets for the children but the lives that followed
    courses of their own other than ours and older
    have been migrating before us some are already
    far on the way and yet Peter with his gaunt cheeks
    and point of white beard the face of an aged Lawrence
    Peter who had lived on from another time and country
    and who had seen so many things set out and vanish
    still believed in heaven and said he had never once
    doubted it since his childhood on the farm in the days
    of the horses he had not doubted it in the worst
    times of the Great War and afterward and he had come
    to what he took to be a kind of earthly
    model of it as he wandered south in his sixties
    by that time speaking the language well enough
    for them to make him out he took the smallest roads
    into a world he thought was a thing of the past
    with wildflowers he scarcely remembered and neighbors
    working together scything the morning meadows
    turning the hay before the noon meal bringing it in
    by milking time husbandry and abundance
    all the virtues he admired and their reward bounteous
    in the eyes of a foreigner and there he remained
    for the rest of his days seeing what he wanted to see
    until the winter when he could no longer fork
    the earth in his garden and then he gave away
    his house land everything and committed himself
    to a home to die in an old chateau where he lingered
    for some time surrounded by those who had lost
    the use of body or mind and as he lay there he told me
    that the wall by his bed opened almost every day
    and he saw what was really there and it was eternal life
    as he recognized at once when he saw the gardens
    he had made and the green fields where he had been
    a child and his mother was standing there then the wall would close
    and around him again were the last days of the world
     
  16. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    BABI YAR

    Five points to the soccer fan who can name the ill-fated soccer event(s) related to this valley...

    BABI YAR

    By Yevgeni Yevtushenko
    Translated by Benjamin Okopnik

    No monument stands over Babi Yar.
    A steep cliff only, like the rudest headstone.
    I am afraid.
    Today, I am as old
    As the entire Jewish race itself.

    I see myself an ancient Israelite.
    I wander o'er the roads of ancient Egypt
    And here, upon the cross, I perish, tortured
    And even now, I bear the marks of nails.

    It seems to me that Dreyfus is myself.
    The Philistines betrayed me - and now judge.
    I'm in a cage. Surrounded and trapped,
    I'm persecuted, spat on, slandered, and
    The dainty dollies in their Brussels frills
    Squeal, as they stab umbrellas at my face.

    I see myself a boy in Belostok
    Blood spills, and runs upon the floors,
    The chiefs of bar and pub rage unimpeded
    And reek of vodka and of onion, half and half.

    I'm thrown back by a boot, I have no strength left,
    In vain I beg the rabble of pogrom,
    To jeers of "Kill the Jews, and save our Russia!"
    My mother's being beaten by a clerk.

    O, Russia of my heart, I know that you
    Are international, by inner nature.
    But often those whose hands are steeped in filth
    Abused your purest name, in name of hatred.

    I know the kindness of my native land.
    How vile, that without the slightest quiver
    The antisemites have proclaimed themselves
    The "Union of the Russian People!"

    It seems to me that I am Anna Frank,
    Transparent, as the thinnest branch in April,
    And I'm in love, and have no need of phrases,
    But only that we gaze into each other's eyes.
    How little one can see, or even sense!
    Leaves are forbidden, so is sky,
    But much is still allowed - very gently
    In darkened rooms each other to embrace.

    -"They come!"

    -"No, fear not - those are sounds
    Of spring itself. She's coming soon.
    Quickly, your lips!"

    -"They break the door!"

    -"No, river ice is breaking..."

    Wild grasses rustle over Babi Yar,
    The trees look sternly, as if passing judgement.
    Here, silently, all screams, and, hat in hand,
    I feel my hair changing shade to gray.

    And I myself, like one long soundless scream
    Above the thousands of thousands interred,
    I'm every old man executed here,
    As I am every child murdered here.

    No fiber of my body will forget this.
    May "Internationale" thunder and ring
    When, for all time, is buried and forgotten
    The last of antisemites on this earth.

    There is no Jewish blood that's blood of mine,
    But, hated with a passion that's corrosive
    Am I by antisemites like a Jew.
    And that is why I call myself a Russian!
     
  17. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    Apostroph - Walt Whitman

    O MATER! O fils!
    O brood continental!
    O flowers of the prairies!
    O space boundless! O hum of mighty products!
    O you teeming cities! O so invincible, turbulent, proud!
    O race of the future! O women!
    O fathers! O you men of passion and the storm!
    O native power only! O beauty!
    O yourself! O God! O divine average!
    O you bearded roughs! O bards! O all those slumberers!
    O arouse! the dawn bird’s throat sounds shrill! Do you not hear the cock crowing?
    O, as I walk’d the beach, I heard the mournful notes foreboding a tempest—the low, oft-repeated shriek of the diver, the long-lived loon;
    O I heard, and yet hear, angry thunder;—O you sailors! O ships! make quick preparation!
    O from his masterful sweep, the warning cry of the eagle!
    (Give way there, all! It is useless! Give up your spoils;)
    O sarcasms! Propositions! (O if the whole world should prove indeed a sham, a sell! )
    O I believe there is nothing real but America and freedom!
    O to sternly reject all except Democracy!
    O imperator! O who dare confront you and me?
    O to promulgate our own! O to build for that which builds for mankind!
    O feuillage! O North! O the slope drained by the Mexican sea!
    O all, all inseparable—ages, ages, ages!
    O a curse on him that would dissever this Union for any reason whatever!
    O climates, labors! O good and evil! O death!
    O you strong with iron and wood! O Personality!
    O the village or place which has the greatest man or woman! even if it be only a few ragged huts;
    O the city where women walk in public processions in the streets, the same as the men;
    O a wan and terrible emblem, by me adopted!
    O shapes arising! shapes of the future centuries!
    O muscle and pluck forever for me!
    O workmen and workwomen forever for me!
    O farmers and sailors! O drivers of horses forever for me!
    O I will make the new bardic list of trades and tools!
    O you coarse and wilful! I love you!
    O South! O longings for my dear home! O soft and sunny airs!
    O pensive! O I must return where the palm grows and the mocking-bird sings, or else I die!
    O equality! O organic compacts! I am come to be your born poet!
    O whirl, contest, sounding and resounding! I am your poet, because I am part of you;
    O days by-gone! Enthusiasts! Antecedents!
    O vast preparations for These States! O years!
    O what is now being sent forward thousands of years to come!
    O mediums! O to teach! to convey the invisible faith!
    To promulge real things! to journey through all The States!
    O creation! O to-day! O laws! O unmitigated adoration!
    O for mightier broods of orators, artists, and singers!
    O for native songs! carpenter’s, boatman’s, ploughman’s songs! shoemaker’s songs!
    O haughtiest growth of time! O free and extatic!
    O what I, here, preparing, warble for!
    O you hastening light! O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling, and take his height—and you too will ascend;
    O so amazing and so broad! up there resplendent, darting and burning;
    O prophetic! O vision staggered with weight of light! with pouring glories!
    O copious! O hitherto unequalled!
    O Libertad! O compact! O union impossible to dissever!
    O my Soul! O lips becoming tremulous, powerless!
    O centuries, centuries yet ahead!
    O voices of greater orators! I pause—I listen for you
    O you States! Cities! defiant of all outside authority! I spring at once into your arms! you I most love!
    O you grand Presidentiads! I wait for you!
    New history! New heroes! I project you!
    Visions of poets! only you really last! O sweep on! sweep on!
    O Death! O you striding there! O I cannot yet!
    O heights! O infinitely too swift and dizzy yet!
    O purged lumine! you threaten me more than I can stand!
    O present! I return while yet I may to you!
    O poets to come, I depend upon you!
     
  18. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    POTUS Poetry
    by Dubya

    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    Oh my, lump in the bed
    How I've missed you.
    Roses are redder
    Bluer am I
    Seeing you kissed by that charming French guy.
    The dogs and the cat, they missed you too
    Barney's still mad you dropped him, he ate your shoe
    The distance, my dear, has been such a barrier
    Next time you want an adventure, just land on a carrier

    :rolleyes:

    Bushites, how can you stand it?...how can you stand to look at this fool and take him seriously? With every step he takes, with every move he makes, every sound he utters, he confirms - with hard data - his place in my world...and mine in his.
     
  19. christopher d

    christopher d New Member

    Jun 11, 2002
    Weehawken, NJ
    Kral Majales

    And the Communists have nothing to offer but fat cheeks and eyeglasses and
    lying policemen
    and the Capitalists proffer Napalm and money in green suitcases to the
    Naked,
    and the Communists create heavy industry but the heart is also heavy
    and the beautiful engineers are all dead, the secret technicians conspire for
    their own glamour
    in the Future, in the Future, but now drink vodka and lament the Security
    Forces,
    and the Capitalists drink gin and whiskey on airplanes but let Indian brown
    millions starve
    and when Communist and Capitalist as$holes tangle the Just man is arrested
    or robbed or has his head cut off,
    but not like Kabir, and the cigarette cough of the Just man above the clouds
    in the bright sunshine is a salute to the health of the blue sky.
    For I was arrested thrice in Prague, once for singing drunk on Narodni
    street,
    once knocked down on the midnight pavement by a mustached agent who
    screamed out BOUZERANT,
    once for losing my notebooks of unusual sex politics dream opinions,
    and I was sent from Havana by planes by detectives in green uniform,
    and I was sent from Prague by plane by detectives in Czechoslovakian
    business suits,
    Cardplayers out of Cezanne, the two strange dolls that entered Joseph K's
    room at morn
    also entered mine and ate at my table, and examined my scribbles,
    and followed me night and morn from the houses of the lovers to the cafes of
    Centrum -
    And I am the King of May, which is the power of sexual youth,
    and I am the King of May, which is long hair of Adam and Beard of my
    own body
    and I am the King of May, which is Kraj Majales in the Czechoslovakian
    tongue,
    and I am the King of May, which is old Human poesy, and 100,000 people
    chose my name,
    and I am the King of May, and in a few minutes I will land at London
    Airport,
    and I am the King of May, naturally, for I am of Slavic parentage and a
    Buddhist Jew
    who whorships the Sacred Heart of Christ the blue body of Krishna the
    straight back of Ram
    the beads of Chango the Nigerian singing Shiva Shiva in a manner which
    I have invented,
    and the King of May is a middleeuropean honor, mine in the XX century
    despite space ships and the Time Machine, because I have heard the voice of Blake
    in a vision
    and repeat that voice. And I am the King of May that sleeps with teenagers
    laughing.
    And I am the King of May, that I may be expelled from my Kingdom with
    Honor, as of old,
    To show the difference between Caesar's Kingdom and the Kingdom of the
    May of Man -
    and I am the King of May because I touched my finger to my forehead
    saluting
    a luminous heavy girl trembling hands who said "one moment Mr. Ginsberg"
    before a fat young Plainclothesman stepped between our bodies - I was
    going to England -
    and I am the King of May, in a giant jetplane touching Albion's airfield
    trembling in fear
    as the plane roars to a landing on the gray concrete, shakes & expels air,
    and rolls slowly to a stop under the clouds with part of blue heaven still
    visible.
    And tho' I am the King of May, the Marxists have beat me upon the street,
    kept me up all night in Police Station, followed me thru Springtime
    Prague, detained me in secret and deported me from our kingdom by
    airplane.
    This I have written this poem on a jet seat in mid Heaven.

    May 7, 1965
     
  20. el_urchinio

    el_urchinio Member

    Jun 6, 2002
    Take up the White Man's burden--
    In patience to abide,
    To veil the threat of terror
    And check the show of pride;
    By open speech and simple,
    And hundred times made plain,
    To seek another's profit
    And work another's gain.


    How eerily prophetic. If Bush wasn't functionally illiterate, I'd say he must've read this and taken it to heart. Maybe he had Cheney read it for him.
     
  21. christopher d

    christopher d New Member

    Jun 11, 2002
    Weehawken, NJ
    I've read this poem a dozen or so times. Never thought I could tell if it was meant tounge-in-cheek or if he was really championing this. For some reason I now think it was the former.
     
  22. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    Domestic Dissent
    by Anne F. Scotch Plains, NJ


    This is my silent rebellion.
    I'm waiting for you to take notice.
    This is the peak of years-smothered anger.
    I'm waiting to flail against you.
    This is me asserting myself.
    I'm waiting for the slow effect.
    This is me turning my back, not my cheek.
    I'm waiting to see how you stand.
    This is my independence.
    I'm just waiting for your nod of approval.
     
  23. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    Thomas Hardy

    Then And Now


    When battles were fought
    With a chivalrous sense of Should and Ought,
    In spirit men said
    "End we quick or dead,
    Honour is some reward!
    Let us fight fair -- for our own best or worst;
    So, Gentlemen of the Guard,
    Fire first!"

    In the open they stood,
    Man to man in his knightlihood:
    They would not deign
    To profit by a stain
    On the honourable rules,
    Knowing that practice perfidy no man durst
    Who in the heroic schools
    Was nurst.

    But now, behold, what
    Is warfare wherein honour is not!
    Rama laments
    Its dead innocents:
    Herod breathes: "Sly slaughter
    Shall rule! Let us by modes once called
    accurst
    Overhead, under water,
    Stab first."

    1915
     
  24. Mel Brennan

    Mel Brennan PLANITARCHIS' BANE

    Paris Saint Germain
    United States
    Apr 8, 2002
    Baltimore
    Club:
    Paris Saint Germain FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    War crime

    Locked into my incendiary chamber
    Furiously fighting fire with fire
    Tortured and torturer taking turns
    Applying coals to Newcastle

    But 'friendly fire' wounds very well
    And free the foregone conclusion
    An ashen space for Amida's stage
    A plain at pains for purity

    To the ground my burning indignation
    Equal all on this sweeping level
    Yes, even here is Pure Land plain
    Plain as our cruelly stupid complicity

    (© Gregg Heathcote, 3 August 2002)
     
  25. He's In Fashion

    Jan 7, 2000
    Littlefun, CO, US
    Club:
    West Ham United FC
    Nat'l Team:
    United States
    Mr. Business went to church
    He never missed a Sunday
    Mr. Business went to Hell
    For what he did on Monday
     

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