Industrial, along those lines
We organise, from shops to mines
Which we believe will bring on better times
The Stained RoseThe field was silent now, the men had fought, bled and died. Even the Ravens and Crows had their fill and left the remains of the unfortunate to decay in the mood. The sun looked on impassive, bringing false warmth to the dead. In its gaze the dulled and broken tools of the dead’s former trade shined just a little, giving such vile instruments a tiny measure of beauty. A shame there was no one around to appreciate it.
A slight breeze picked up, and stirred some of the wreckage littered about the field, the flapping of torn banners breaking the silence of the scene. The banners, those tattered and trampled rags still declared the identity and Heraldry of their deceased owners. In the centre amongst the carcasses of horses and their riders flapped a red and blue banner with a still recognisable Stallion rearing up in gold embroidery, now marking the open grave of its master a nobleman. To the east with its shaft buried deep in the mud and poked full of holes was a simpl
We Must Travel FarWell that’s that then,
Time to escape our pen
Earth’s become a literal hell
So charge up the FTL
So long old Terra
Forgive us our error
Farewell red Mars
We’re going to the stars
Too late we found a solution
To that nasty pollution
Hopefully we’ll do much better
In the role of galactic settler
But if we get too bold
And New Eden goes the way of the old
And again we cause ecological harm
Then you know what they say, “Third times the charm”
Viva the Social (Media) Revolution!Ladies and Gents this here is my brand new plan
It’s guaranteed to take down the man
First up we list all his wrongs
In a protest album full of remixed songs
Step two is even better
Hit him with a petition and an open letter
For step three we’ll ruin his trip to Tahiti
By daubing his beach house in artistic graffiti
And when he’s reeling like a cat in the rain
We’ll move in for the kill with a human chain
And expose him as a man most bitter
With paint bombs and a ton of glitter
And of course we’ll be coordinating via facebook and twitter
Qapla!there once was a Klingon called Worf, son of Mogh
Enlisting in Starfleet the Empire considered him rogue
He was fearless
Just like Kahless
And judging by his quarters, chainmail and spikes were in vogue
Taking one for the teamAmerica’s most famous Labor chief is of course Jimmy Hoffa
A firebrand, a scrapper, a militant and a full time Scoffa
He got pally with the mob
The pension fund he did rob
But the friendship eventually spoiled, and he received a final offa
The literally Cold WarTo Kronstadt, to attack alleged White Guards
While in the streets workers waved crude placards,
They manned the garrison there, mysteriously
Where we used to sneer imperiously
There demands Workers' control, soviet power
And stop nicking are bloody flour!
What could we do? Abandon the fort
After losing the cities support?
With it state power, given to the revolting masses?
Let them win and we'd lose our conference passes!
No: we would take a stronger, firmer grip,
And bail out, our battered sinking ship!
We marched to conquer fortress Kronstadt;
Beating them as we beat the real Whites
before they could show the world we were hypocritical shites.
We marched to conquer Fortress Kronstadt:
Under their guns across the ice-clad sea
Taken full advantage of their naive mercy
Went Congress delegate and soldier elite;
In that order too (when in retreat)
Their cannon smashed the ice on which we stood;
After we repeatedly spat on their attempts at brotherhood
After, when our bodies were reclaim
E.P.I.C.One of my favourite yank writers is that bloke Upton Sinclair
After making a fortune he used the money to build a communal lair
He rumbled the Meat packers Jungle
And documented the Oil barons bungle
The one thing he couldn’t do it seems, was climb the political stair
I don't pay attention to the newsUkraine’s in the news lately, I’m only familiar with Nestor Makhno
I’ve no idea how that’s pronounced so just assume it rhymes with snow
Which is also something I imagine Ukraine has quite a bit of?
Just like those other countries that where the people’s names end in “ov”
So anyway on to the Ukraine and something called Maidan
I didn’t know Ukraine had a lot of fans of Iron Maiden
Now apparently Russia has moved into the Ukraine east and taken over
Which surprised me, since on my map they had it all as well as Moldova
Though know I come to think of it
I don’t think Germany is still split
Between Westen und Ost
And Yugoslavia now appears lost
And according to google maps there’s now a New Mexico hey?
Why its enough to make you scratch yer head and say “Que”?
Something in the air
there's madness in the air
there's chaos everywhere
the children cry
the helpless die
they're fighting over there
there's sadness in the air
there's hatred everywhere
why won't they quit
why not admit
the best way is to care
there's evil in the air
there's bias everywhere
when will we learn
when will all yearn
for freedom - should we dare
there's something in the air
there's sorrow everywhere
this human race
this one shared space
I wonder how we'll fare
To a BrotherLord, lift up this lost brother
Into your hands
Tell him what is wrong
Show him where he stands
You have sent him to Babylon
But he still refuses your promise
This man's heart is in danger
Turning to idols for solace
May his pride lessen
And his spirit strengthen
Direct him on the right path
Prepare him for Heaven
I pray for this brother
That he settles for what is best
Lord, fight with him through
His life's biggest test
Poem - The Gray of WarThe Gray of War
Poem for Day 054 – 20141116
I say back.
You say white.
Battle lines drawn.
I am in the right,
and you are in the wrong.
How did we arrive here?
Too much pain sustained.
Too many sleights imposed.
Enough is enough.
You will no longer be unopposed.
The battle has begun.
We will assume the enemy's ways.
It worked for them, it will work for us.
Their tactics were brutal,
our version is necessary.
Fire will fight fire.
Have no fear, this is only temporary.
Take no prisoners says the leaders.
Maximum casualties are guaranteed.
There will be no wounded.
Scorched earth will be the policy.
Our dead speak in united congregation.
We must exact your extermination.
The day ends,
our work is done.
Vengeance has been granted,
and we must have won.
So says mute testimony by the dead,
sadly there is nobody left to bury the departed.
I was black,
and you were white.
You were my enemy,
and I was yours.
Now we are no more, our blood is one,
and all that is left is th
Take Me to The ColorAdd a feather every day.
Gain enough to fly away.
Brittle paper wings of mine,
Bring me to a better time.
Where I know that I'll be free,
To express the inner me.
Feathers falling to the floor.
Now I wish and yearn for more.
Carry on to colored fields.
Believe this freedom is now real.
Open eyes to wake in bed.
Lost from color, only dread.
Feathers scattered here and there.
Only greys shadow the air.
Broken wings of paper, please,
Take me back and let me free.
My wish has not fallen deaf.
For there is still one feather left.
Entitlement NightmareI see you called me into a meeting,
and the boardroom is full-
I already don't like where this is going.
You want me to explain my position
and justify my ideas?
Well, I think my work speaks for itself,
and your ignorance is what is showing.
I refuse to let you shame me!
At least three quarters of you
need to check your privilege:
the threat-climate in here is far too high,
and I feel like I'm being gas-lighted!
I know when I'm right,
'cause it's deep in my heart,
so don't try and force me to
accept something I can't feel:
I know I'm being lied to!
I know the agendas of the oppressor when I feel them,
all these constant microaggressions
and showing me hate-
this is intimidation, and nothing more!
Oppressors will do what oppressors do best,
and what they do best
is to discriminate.
You say I won't let you
get a word in edgewise?
Like you actually have anything
constructive to say?
It's just more of the same gas-lighting
and increasing the
Ring. Ring. Ring.It rules us. It owns us.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Jump to it. Drop your life.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Someone wants us. Someone needs us.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Can't turn it off. Can't shut it up.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
We live upon each others strings
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Surrender thought. Surrender will.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Wait, let me get this.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
A Vacation to a Strange Realm Awoke the Goat Man from his grave,
Where he felt the presence of humans that day.
Feeling their emotions, their conformist ways.
Oh how it had sickened him in every way.
How can these flesh walkers be so blind,
To all their thoughts that are confined?
Easily controlled yes they are,
a bandwagon parade, almost every day.
Goat Man knows why this is, and with a thought,
he thought like this!
A like minded individual, keeps a like mind,
while the unlike goes on, to aspire in time,
and with their brain, now fully grown,
their words like strings to a guitar.
They pluck their strings to the like mind,
and with glee the like mind listens.
and with that the unlike weaves it's strings,
it's strings now a web, and in this web lays the like.
This analogy soon disappeared yes it did,
as said before the Goat Man was sick,
he had hoped for a vacation, but a vacation he had not
A King's RansomHe stood on a soapbox
to survey all that he owned.
The land and the creatures
the people and throne.
His rule was divine
and his will their master
but his people did wail
they live in disaster.
Ignoring their plight
he met his eyes the mirror,
“Your people are are lazy.”
“You're their kind and just leader”
But the people were stirred
they lined the street with their dead
they'll bargain got one thing
they'll take the king's head
Poem - You HumanYou Human
Bonus Poem for Day 060 – 20141122
Through the hazy window
I see your world in shadow.
I see only the maligned,
little do I know of your kind.
I see you as less than human.
Lack of empathy is illusion.
You have the tears of joy,
you have the scars of pain.
Can I understand your way
within the breadth of my Lord's Day?
Moral high ground laid low,
poor substitute for knowing.
I cannot speak honestly,
I have no authority.
An intellectual slum,
to speak would show me dumb.
A disconnect exists here,
Your way of life is what I fear.
Can I live your private life,
if I only see there strife?
Please forgive my ignorance,
my fear is the hindrance.
You deserve recognition,
this has become my mission.
No more this war of hate,
the discord must abate.
My own I must defy,
you are as human as I.
© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.