daily poetry movement
I am relatively poor.
My possessions include a tent,
tarps around it I
got out of the garbage,
Two Che Guevara flags,a Colombian flag,
a few books of study,
a pair of boots,
my German Shepard,
and nightly dreams of revolution.
Sometimes, when their's work,
I have enough money to buy some chewing tobacco.
Blood Lamentations on the Death of Hope
My Poems are violent,
for that their can be no apologies,
no explanation but that the times are harsh,
the age genocidal.
No long song can write of this.
No Nature Haiku could have matched a gun in the
hand of young Jonathan Jackson.
I only want the system's slaughter.
Their is nothing else worth writing about.
Today, at least.
What excitement should their be in blood shed?
Only somber reflective planning.
In my Revolution their is no time for dancing.
The goal it is not a street party, but justice.
This is not the world I want for our children.
You are surely dead and buried;
the essence of freedom burning in the flames of hell!
Let them say I am a traitor.
I do not fear disgrace from thugs and murders.
My fear is to grow old and prosperous,
forced to look the children in their eyes.
Brave and young,
brought up living in
minivans and Bantu Stands,
Ghettos, reservations, and under occupation.
"What did you do for the poor and wretched ones?"
"What did you do to end Imperialism, forever?"
"Mister, when you were young, what did you do to prevent us from living as we do now;
under siege and without hope?"
Surely, they to, will disrespect the elders,
as I have done
Learn, to Tell the Truth
Much is said of Knowing our History.
This is generally understood.
Moreso, Know the present.
Know the world around you, all of it.
Study it well.
Who else will tell the truth
when teaching history to the next,
and so on, forever more?
Those that destroy the world,
and leave so many in destituted;
how they fear insurgency.
With each hint of Popular Uprising
a rabid, irrational response.
They prophecy resistance,overthrow,
and rightfully so,
for Capital's days are numbered,
more so even its very breaths.
Song for the Suicide Bomber
The peaceniks, arm and arm with fascists,
of the Zionist Stripe;
Oh, how they condemn al-Qassams's "martyrs?".
But to the families of these "tragic victims",
all I offer are simply questions,
so obvious they to must enter exile.
What were you doing moving into a home that was not yours, on land you knew to be stolen?
Didn't you see the trail of tears on the news?
Were was your outrage then?
Were was your demands for a war against terrorism, then?
It's not a question of Human Rights
for the aswers all too clear.
The question is, are
your children superior
Fuck You Anti-Defamation League
-In defense of Amiri Baraka, The People's Laureate.
Yankee Nationalists are Fascist pieces of shit.
I don' care about their slander.
If they label me a terrorist,
oh, how I'll be proud.
Zionists are Fascist pieces of shit.
I don't care what they say to defame me.
No accusation of anti-semiticism matters
from such human garbage.
For those that rationalize
genocide and torture;
What is their opinion,anyway?
They don't deserve to live.
Afterall, such acts are a acceptable,
and can simply be rationalized away.
Ye Murderers and Ye Crooks who follow Christ
Ye murderers and ye crooks who follow Christ,
preach that those who live by the sword
so to shall they die by they sword;
forgeting to mention that those who live by the barrel of the gun,
so to shall they die by the barrel of a gun.
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