Do you write poetry?
This is a thread for sharing and constructive criticism.
Latest replies:
I.
As the Liberty lads o’er the sea
Bought their freedom, and cheaply, with blood,
So we, boys, we
Will die fighting, or live free,
And down with all kings but King Ludd!
II.
When the web that we weave is complete,
And the shuttle exchanged for the sword,
We will fling the winding sheet
O’er the despot at our feet,
And dye it deep in the gore he has pour’d.
III.
Though black as his heart its hue,
Since his veins are corrupted to mud,
Yet this is the dew
Which the tree shall renew
Of Liberty, planted by Ludd!
Breaking every law except the one
for Go, rolling its porpoise way, the rocket
staggers on its course; its feelers lock
a stranglehold ahead; and-rocking-finders
whispering “Target, Target,” back and forth,
relocating all its meaning in the dark,
it freezes on the final stage. I know
that lift and pour, the flick out of the sky
and then the power. Power is not enough.
Bough touching bough, touching … till the shore,
a lake, an undecided river, and a lake again
saddling the divide: a world that won’t be wise
and let alone, but instead is found outside
by little channels, linked by chance, not stern;
and then when once we’re sure we hear a guide
it fades away toward the opposite end of the road
from home; a world that goes wrong in order to have revenge.
Our lives are an amnesty given us.
There is a place behind our hill so real
it makes me turn my head, no matter. There
in the last thicket lies the cornered cat
saved by its claws, now ready to spend
all there is left of the wilderness, embracing
its blood. And that is the way that I will spit
life, at the end of any trail where I smell any hunter,
because I think our story should not end
or go on in the dark with nobody listening.
Utopian Futures by Kimya Dawson
Somewhere the bombing all has stopped
And people begin to sit and talk
And somewhere insomniatic stockbrokers can rest their bloodshot eyes
'cause there's nothing left to buy or sell
Or kill or die for anymore
We're living inside eternal moments that we've searched for all our lives
There's nobody living by the clock
And every door is left unlocked
'cause property died all alone and capitalism lost its home
There's plenty of fresh air here in town
And plants are growing on the cars
And all of the streets are used for dancing
And at night you see all the stars
Ya da da da di ya, ya da da da da
Ya da da da, da da da da
Ya da da da di ya, ya da da da da
Ya da da da, da da da da
We're searching for something that was lost
And centuries all have covered up
We're flailing to find the smallest fragments of our liberated lives
And every tiny piece we find
We pick up and glue together
Collectively working for our utopian futures to collide
In snuggly beds and midnight talks
In wandering bike rides and wayward walks
Making up all of our own music, art, myth, food and news
It's happening everywhere we go
Collective bookstores and basement shows
Sharing a song that we all know or making up new ones as we go
Ya da da da di ya, ya da da da da
Ya da da da, da da da da
Ya da da da di ya, ya da da da da
Da da da da, da da da da
I'm a dream, this is real
I'm a dream, you are here
I'm a dream, you are me
I'm a dream, we are free
I'm a dream, this is real
I'm a dream, you are here
I'm a dream, you are me
I'm a dream, we are free
Now can't you feel the ice caps grow?
Now can't you hear the forests laugh
At piles of nicely packaged toothpicks all in processed warehouse rows
'cause the only processing we do now
Is with one another in our homes
With people we'll fight, fuck, laugh and cry with
Until the day we die
Here where we share all that we've won
Here where we grieve for what is lost
Here where the children grow with names they chose and genders all their own
Here where we celebrate each other
Here where you've never had a boss
Here where we sing like restless kids with half-chewed food inside our mouths
Ya da da da di ya, ya da da da da
Da da da da, da da da da
Ya da da da di ya, ya da da da da
Ya da da da, da da da da
Here in the place outside the box
There are no more borders left to cross
From each according to ability and to each based on need
Here in the place where dreams aren't dead
Here in the space between our heads.