Posts Tagged ‘Political’

These steel wings under my direction,
This flying fortress,
Styled in camouflage sheen,
They once meant freedom to me,
Symbols of our fight against fascism,

But after that night,
That mission,

When I saw those fiery roses emerge,
Streets erupting in hellfire,
Becoming flowerbeds of sulphur and rubble,
I could almost hear screams over the turbines,
Hundreds of little ants amidst the blaze,

I felt that we became world-enders that night,
Warmongers rather than liberators,

We won that war,
But when those souls look up,
They will see us in the clouds,
And feel fear,
Not freedom.

In a red and arid land far away,
An attack is mounting,
An assault on feminine autonomy,
A patriarchal drake,
Calling itself a law,
Summoned in a circle marked with quills,

Stand firm sisters and mothers,
This beast can be fought,
Nothing can burn your choice,
You are might,
You are freedom,
The summoners of this creature know this,

Jeeringly they call themselves a supreme court,
These men think themselves puppeteers,
Longing to travel back in time,
To more ignorant years,
When fiction ruled lives,
Theocracy slivering out of the cracks,

You can not back down from this,
Your bodies are your own,
Ginsburg is behind you,
Stand firm ladies,
They will not take your strength,
Your sovereignty.

Under this phosphorus curtain,
In these blood-strewn streets,
I do not believe this war will end,
Which war you ask?
The forever war,
Humanity versus humanity,
Presided over by those arms dealer divines,
Lauded by sycophants of the political class,
Soldiers are mere cents,
Towns are legal tender,

Nations become naught more than stockpiles,
Fuel for the napalm fires,
Iron and uranium and young blood,
Progeny sent into a grinder en masse,
Front lines along the bottom line,
Eradication becomes a profit all its own,
Both decades and darlings have already rotted,
There can be no ceasefire,
When populations are just another currency,
To these hollow men.


My father told me to watch the skies,
A crestfallen voice nursing a missing leg,
He said there were eagles up there,
They’d taken his locomotion in flashes of patriotism,
Ironclad falcons,
Armed to the beak,
Hunting through dead metal eyes,
A video game played malms away,
These vulturine creatures brought death and gunpowder,
Bestowing firestorms at a moments notice,
Butchering villain and victim both,

Father said they were here to remove obstacles two,
Deplorables and witnesses,
To feast upon the black gold we dare live upon,
To eat and answer to nobody.

The Earth strives to heal,
From the corruption of warfare,
Still wounded decades later,
Still polluted by the arsenic of empires,

From the minds of old men,
Did these scars across the land come,
Painted by bone shards and blood of the young,
Spread by the quills of artillery and lead,

Many souls died here,
Laid to rest in craters,
Mother Nature lies beside them in solidarity,
Mourning for the industrial slaughter,

And the planet still weeps,
Those tears of acid rain,
She hates those old men,
And endeavours to right their wrongs.

In these times,
Following the book of 1985,
All smokestacks and cameras,
We are thrown ahead as fodder,
Little cogs in the machine,
In to a world full of radiation and bad men,
We are crash test dummies,
Emphasis on dummies,

Coins in a grinder,
Crashing along government lines,
Amongst all the other wreckages,
All part of some smoking room plan,
All we are worth is what we can withstand,
What we can suffer,
But this is no simulated test,
This is real blood and guts life.

Do we appear as pondlife to them?
Those alleged councillors of repute,
From their gilded office above us,
With their manifestos made of bread,
Are we just guppies and tadpoles?
Schools of fish with empty heads,
Covered in muck from the streets,
Our murky waters,
Polluted and trash-ridden as they are,

They drop breadcrumbs down to us,
Placations and silvered words,
And giggle as we bite and nip each other,
Tearing scales from one another,
Amused as we keep hunting our fellows,
Not looking above the surface,
They smirk at the chum they bestowed us,
The bubbles trying in vain to show us the way,
To where our real predators reside.

You approach the dark tower,
A megalith of private business,
Its ebony walls in stark opposition to the sky,
Projecting an aura of foreboding to the peasants around,
A display of power in masonry,
You hear squeals and barbarism from within,
You approach over a lava moat of taxpayer dollars,
Musk and oppression emanate in waves,

Distraught souls and suited gargoyles,
Spreadsheets and torture devices,
Demons with security cards,
Ritual performed across desks of oak,
Monsters behind obsidian partitions,
Above those ironclad gates,
There is a plaque saying thus,
“Town Hall”,

Armed only with a downcast gaze,
You put hands on that cold metal door.

I see you,
Supplicants and sycophants all,
Under those predatory spires,
Within ivory gothic monsters,
A church of destruction,

Did you know you stand on sacred land?
Not of the biblical kind,
But a boneyard,
As you kneel at your oaken pews,
You stand upon graves too,

This institution buried these bodies,
It ate them body and soul,
A temple of killers,
Justified by voices in your head and from the pulpit,
An ecclesiastical superiority complex,

You stand upon corpses,
You pray,
Looking up to ghosts of gods in the sky,
Prostrating yourselves to an absent father,
The rays in the clouds are just radiation,

Each skeleton is a sin,
Committed by the alleged unprofane.



I am bound to this place,
Consumed by these walls,
These offices of authority,
Branded with this name badge contract,
Fastened a bit deep to my chest,
I am to action this places will,
I am its blade and quill,
A rusty cog in an old machine,

Some serf comes before this department,
She comes begging for monetary salvation,
She will soon be homeless,
But we are no charity,
Too many have come begging today,
So the red stamp denies her,
Her tears a prayer to this place,
The doorman will remove her,

All in a days sweat,
Good enough for government work.