Best Bolshevik Poems
‘What good´s permitting some prophet of doom? To wipe every smile away …’
The orator grins at his drunken audience through make up and mask
Opens the cabaret’s veil in the theatre of forsaken minds on the run
Champagne flows from magic fountains while Berlin falters from grace
The wild thirties dance to an apocalyptic sound of paralized conscience
Outside the toothbrush moustache commandeers Svastika’s march
Torches set light to mislead passion and houses of semitic prayer
Crystal breaks as brown shirts parade their poisonous conquest
Heil to the savage Führer when ‘reality is something to rise above’
Pirouettes swirl on stilettos while boots squash compassion and lives
Caviar evades judeo-bolshevik scapegoats and trains to the camps
Blond blue-eyed conception born to inhabit Lebensraum on the map
Feeds into industrialist’s dream of war effort and armoured production
The white flag of surrender stuck into skull bones and belligerent stride
No meaningful rise of resistance only raised arms and ‘following orders’
When God capitulated and sang his swan song to the sound of hell fire
And prophets of doom cashed in on gas chambers and golden teeth
It’s easy in hindsight to lift the pen from an immaculate ink-pot of courage
But where would I have been when ashes in Auschwitz were ascending
When evil tore into the last bit of humanity in a vile coup of disgrace
As I look into the mirror of history I reflect on the cowardice in my soul
21st February 2020
‘What good´s permitting some prophet of doom? To wipe every smile away …’
Line from Cabaret the musical base on Christopher Isherwood’s 'Good-bye to
Berlin'
Theme for the poem ‘Reality is something to rise above' Liza Minelli
Cro mag non man was a birth of a nation
Crete led the way for civilized creation
The Etruscans became the first Mediterranean power
Indo Europeans Settled Europe as others cower
The Aryans in India established a civilization
The Nile valley would be dominated by Egyptians
Chorus
We've once again taken history’s place
To show again we are the face
Our past is forbidden , the truth is hidden
We've once again taken history’s place
300 Spartans showed what there courage could do
Alexander The Greats strength was unmatched by few
Rome led 1000 years of prosperity before the decline
The Visigoths chased the Huns back over the European line
7 crusades led by a Christians to stem Islam
Ferdinand and Isabella condemned the Moorish harm
chorus
Everyone feared the fury of the pagan vikings of the north
Napoleon Bonaparte would bring military genius forth
The British empire would colonize every land
William Wallace bravely fought for the freedom of Scotland
The Teutonic knights helped spread across Europe Christianity
The 30 years of Christian wars brought nothing but insanity
Chorus
Expansion of discovery could never be touched
The United states would rise and the British would be crushed
The south would rebel for liberty and freedom
The British would slice the throat of the Ottoman kingdom
The first brothers war was thought to be the final stand
The Afrikaners fought relentless for the right of there land
chorus
The Bolshevik revolution brought a new plague into the world
The Germans brought a new hope as the banners were unfurled
All of Europe would unite under the waffen for it's European identity
The Marxist hippie movement brought moral hygiene to it's knees
Now it's the today and we have to keeping fighting for a new tomorrow
We must secure our destiny and keep having our history grow
chorus(2)
Putin rides Russia’s pride
Cheers ring nation wide
Swept along by the tide
No matter, Putin’s stride
Putin derides all global calls
Jeering at the soft flung balls
High on the home-pep of it all
Playing pride before he falls
Before today Putin was creaking
Students raised aside his speaking
Syrian brokering coated his ceiling
Olympic grandeur won a believing
The party swings high on the pep
Unseeing past the next high step
Boozed out to the dawning inept
Recessions pill awaits there, swept
Putin cynically prides pop calls
Crimean homing serving the all
But the gain will pain, come the fall
Come the reality of Putin’s new wall
It’s swallowing will cost his people
Harpooned by his Bolshevik needle
Freedoms put-on by the Putin spiteful
And recession bites like a razer-ball
Putin’s pride, his hoodwinking call
Subterfuge designed for his win all
Knowing oppression awaits cat calls
When pride bites deep... before the fall
Oh, you know what I want, I want me a Red Pill Girl
The kind that’s aware of the realities of the world
The kind who’s awake and her mind is unfurled
No sensory deprivation tank for my kind of girl
A self-aware she-babe makes my toes curl
Oh, I’d kinda get bored with a Blue Pill Chick
The kind caked in fake-up three feet thick
The kind who needs me to look smooth and slick
Playing along with her daydream is such Bolshevik
And floating in her pod would make me seasick
Oh, I can’t wait for my life with my Red Pill Hun,
‘Cause she will always be lots of fun
‘Cause she can do cartwheels while firing machine guns
Dodging those enemy bullets one by one
We’ll get white rabbits tattooed right on our buns
Oh, we’ll be so happy together, my Red Pill Wife
She knows that the Matrix is just endless strife
She knows how to fly spaceships and fight with a knife
Our kids’ spinning back kicks will be outta sight
And forever after, we’ll still be pals for life
Oh, my Red Pill Girl, my Red Pill Girl…
3/30/16
A time of revolution...
of a poet was at hand.
Of turbulence and triumph,
independent in a land.
On Golovinsky Prospect
to the main street of Tiflis.
Exploits of Djugashvili...
Tilipuchui Tavern was a fleese.
European fashions, Pushkin gardens,
grand hotels.
Often singing melodies,
he claimed poetry for his swells.
A wandering existence of a
Bolshevik to be.
The perfect crime was hidden...
as a mask, a robbery!
A poet was becoming...
a romantic in his life.
With a faith devoted to a struggle...
storm and strife!
Yet he never wavered,
an existence he believed,
that he alone was destined...
trial and suffering he'd achieve.
Liberation-freedom,
and the forces of a chain.
Death and combat were essential
for a lasting thing to gain.
The only lasting thing,
torn with conflict on the brink,
that would mark a struggle...
for a cause within a link.
There was constant trouble
and a lasting reprimand.
Return to seminary would not happen,
there again.
Yet he chose philosophy,
he created from the start.
A prisoner and in exile,
revolution was his art!
A new world he would order
from Baku to Petrograd.
Upon the Russian stage he'd step,
perhaps he had gone mad!
But he would bear a will...
that remained for all his days...
forever with a shadow,
contradiction in a haze.
Chernyshevsky, Dostoevsky,
and the devils were his due...
A russian revolution
was the making of a Coup!
Bot for the sake of liberty sanctum sanctity,
none would ever have perceived
the nano ... nano ... nano
repeated viral injected lies
worming thru infected web monitor screens
Computers aren’t partial to receive only analog truth,
Cyber Greek Equus strode furtively past the security
code digital,
nearly impregnable,
palace firewalls with relative ease
Proving once again
that every man-made technological tool
has some degree of human fallacy
Legions of alternative fact bots
hidden within
an electronically pristine algorithm
Leaving only the faintest trace
of time-stamped digital footprints
Robotic lies
designed to spread diabolical disinformation
Truth wiped clean by dirty, grunt pawn bots
The prime question is: who is their king and queen?
Robotic lying soldier drones
all have a master prompt command
Corollary questions do interface: are their sleeper cell rooks
all aligned to digitally synchronize rappel?
Breach the vaunted freedom walls
for a democratic castle hostile takeover
Are there code corrupting knights strategically embedded
inside the pentagon-shaped silicon halls of defense?
Placed purposely to counter any rapid neural network response
How many suicide bot bishops,
with EM pulse malware bombs
ready to self-destruct,
are inside the sacred Wall Street church?
And will the tri-color robed emperor,
who sits on the ivory throne,
still be in denial as to what went wrong
when the anarchy kill switch signal is turned on?
Amplifying the dissonance of a divided kingdom
Beware, capitalist daughters and sons —
Robotic lies
are the front line nano-soldiers
of the new Bolshevik digital revolution
A tale of two twins ...
Kit: That sure was a mean swing, Dottie. You knocked it out of the park. You’re the Sultana of Swat. I love the way you ‘round the bases doing your cute duckie trot. I love how you stand on home plate, kissing off the booing fans with your sour whispering asinine talk. You sho’ can swat high nonsense spitballs a lot.
Dot: Aw shucks, Kit, you Putin a smile on my face. But it ain’t me really. I just do what you coached me to do. Follow your lead like a good sibling pup pet is suppose to. I can’t help but wag the pig tale. Everybody knows that bare bosom greed sells. Now sis, you know I never vote swing and miss. I just love lip-crushing abetted ayes. Sending those lying spitball kisses flying high. But half-truthfully, girl I love the wet way you dry hurl. Such vomit velocity ... sending that propaganda puke spinning thru the air with such speed. You’re so lassie Vladdie bad amazing.
Kit: Yeah, twin ... we in a beleagued of our own. We don’t never do no wrong, at least none that we personally have to disown. And the Lady Bolshevik tag-team pocket profits are gonna stay kompromat strong. As long as the I-scream flag vendors keep selling the popular patriotic yellow snow cones. I love hearing the synthesized, trumpy anthem blaring sound, when the seventh-inning ruble donation rally hats are being passed around. It jacks me up, to the Nth lobby Molotov degree. My oligarch strong arm do a Siberian burn meddle poll vault sales pitch; delivered decibel stealth low, and so slow curve icily.
Dot: Serve ‘em up good, twin. Twist the grin like Papa Lenin said: “Never let a capitalist sucker get a free lick. Always snatch the purse from a paper chasing hick. Always foxy scoop the golden laid eggs from a sleeping, loose-liberty chick.” All bad things come in good corrupt Communist time. This czar fate injustice demands. I love the smell of democracy peanuts roasting in the ballot stands. I love hot, dog day debate fry cries doing the mustard squirt dance. So beleaguered and bland. I love the pretzel, fixed victory feel of cash register chance. I love being the pink champagne torch lady wearing no morality pants. Slyly, safely sliding home, skirt up ... silver tongue tush fanning kicked diamond sand. Giving a darkside-of-the-moon kiss to the loser Americans.
Red power mode
White digital
Blue logo
My, oh my ...
sweet apple pie!
Patriotic American cheese is turning sour Kraut commie
Democracy is Wisconsin curdling ... penicillin shot
needed between the ailing ballot box,
sho’ ain’t Louisiana Purchase forthcoming
Lady Liberty is bowing face down, Kansas Toto-style,
to Kremlin oligarchy ...
didn’t take much to bend with Washington wavy subservience
It’s an Idaho russet Ruskie crying shame
Couch the Benedict-ion omelette breaking news:
Missy Freedom done Alaska huskie hussy sold herself
to be a Soviet satellite skirt muzzled tramp mule
Red power mode
has taken cyber control of all voter confidence
White digital bar-code
activate the Manchurian self-destruct sequence
Blue logo brand ruble sold,
keeps the general populace straddling the fence
As they reality TV see their loose Lady Liberty
make a Texas loan star barracuda bow face
Proud North Dakota woman bending her knee,
acknowledging her Bolshevik bastard place
It’s a Kentucky bourbon crying shame
Democracy kissing the Politburo Czar ring
Bluegrass filly ruling class
selling the masses out for the Balaam green
Capitol Hill Star Spangled silent gag,
money mutes on a Pavel dog Con-stitutional prostitute
Wavy anthem cloth used as a snot rag,
Molotov noses following the Red Pied Pier booger flute
My, oh my ...
Marx Twain subversive tweet sweet apple pie!
Collaborator citizens being called patriotic comrades
Eating the Stalinist straw buries,
spit sprinkled with
Chernobyl pyramid scheme
propaganda whipped cream
Traitor taste the Taps Blue Fibbing beer,
free-market funeral dirge price gouge overflowing,
in the white Lenin toe-tag black body bag aisle
While the Ukraine lobbyist piggies
are covetously Crimea coffer crying
Oh, Nevada bordello bosom alligator weep ...
let the Alabama tick tears leech flow
down those Florida lemon-squeezed cheeks
It’s a New Mexico caliente green chile crying shame —
Them neo-Anazazi, gun-clicking squatters
getting a Wounded Knee ice gulag reservation claim
Lady Liberty doing an Independence bow face,
it’s a thirteen stripe, Siberian mongrel disgrace
American Daughters of the Civil War Revolution
are so madly in love with their Bluish-Gray metal sons
Incestuous desires borne of slave tax oppression
Give to Caesar whatever tribute he crown heavy lay on you,
feed three-fifth portions to the hungry publican lions
Let the Den Mother Lying famine devour your children too
Cannibalize every ink spot known self-evident truth,
marginalize any constitutional chains inhibiting your ravenous lust
Another seething pot of baby bones is the Baal proof
Give to Pharaoh whatever gut pyramid schemes he Isis dream,
feed you quarterly lies from the war widow collection plate
The Wall Street church in tea need of another gun barrel beam
Amerikan Sons of the Ruble Con Bolshevik Revolution,
so gluttonly love their daughters’ leather fetish for the holster
Homicidal desires borne of suicidal plantation depression
Love for my sis makes me like her own Bolshevik
so though I would rather swallow a stranger's lipstick,
I babysat her ground-dweller - her dog - named Limerick.
Once - outside while his wiz-biz defied arithmetic,
I noticed he had one gross fully plump black tick.
All that was nearby were pliers and a yardstick.
When he suddenly rolled over, my reaction was slick -
I grabbed up the pliers and I surely grabbed quick
before thoughts of bloody surgery made me sick.
Limerick was still while I pinched at my gross vic.
I pulled but that slimy tic bugger was too slick.
Over and over, I failed at click, pull and then flick.
When limerick cried out and gave me a tender lick
I called for my husband to join our happy picnic.
He examined Limerick who whined long and thick
then laughed, Honey, he said, you funny lunatic -
You have been pulling at a mole, poor dog has no tick
I am stripes on our flag; on a face I show shame.
I'm a river and sea and a cherry and flame.
I'm a cardinal, gore, and a symbol for war,
And a Bolshevik, bulls-eye, and brothel decor.
I'm a bureaucrat's tape and a light where you wait
And a bullfighter's cape and Republican state.
I am Canada's leaf and Japan's rising sun.
I'm a steak ordered rare, and a lobster when done.
I'm two suits that are played, and a failing firm's ink,
And a cross bringing aid, and related to pink.
I'm the Sox loved in Boston and Prynne's scarlet A
And I decorate Christmas and Valentine's Day.
I'm a carpet rolled out or mean danger ahead.
I am Mars and a ruby and rose--I am red.
A missive postkard from Russia to Amerika:
Deer Amerikan elekted leaders:
Yuri headlight Magnitsky bad policy,
of swift monetary attrition Ru$$ian decision,
have sanktion krashed our ekonomy
Das black ice spangled action
send our oligarchy Soviet markets
ruble roulette spinning
Such rogue demokracy konduct
make the proletariat people suffer much
in das Motherland
Why show such sub-zero Siberian love?
Can Supreme Politburo we
speak Kremlin kandidly:
Why must das trafficking bald eagle
blow das trump
so elektion help unfriendly?
Sekrecy is valued above all
in das Ural heartland
Kabal charakter is a klandestine
medal of distinktion
Thus unofficially, this solemn body SP
send back channel love
to our silver sly komrades
in das golden land of merchant liberty
We Bolshevik hate
that some had to double agent make
das gulag cell sakrifice
We Lenin love
that these Marxist martyrs embraced
das dictator way of life
May their kompromat ruble greed
be planted deeply
in das hallowed halls of demokracy
Let more Stalinist tears of tyranny
be shipped freely
unto das twin shores of coin liberty
Sadly, propaganda fear
has submarine surfaced once again,
between past Alaskan trading partners —
Northern exposure former friends
Yuri czar truly
would yield Molotov easy détente bend
Allow Vladdy us
to make Manchurian Kandidate amend
From Russia with love,
we silo kisses send this Kremlin postkard to Amerika
Kandid spy picture of
our subterfuge gift: Cold hypo-kritical mass hysteria
Forgive broken translation,
due to heavy mushroom kloud interference
Yuri truly,
admire Khrushchev much
such elekted kompassionate patience
of das unwavering flag treachery
There are new thoughts
Phoenix rising
from the ashes of the old days
Neo-Amerikan philosophy
is a walk on the Wild West side
Gun-slinging strange love dimensions,
old underground frontiers freshly silo demented
It’s a new pre-emptive day
for old-gen mushroom hippies
Shooting fungi bullets up in the air
from their fissure flower guns
Dropping the mystery day psychedelic H-bombs,
watching the stealth fireworks ...
A winter glow that never fades
Neo-Amerikan philosophy
be assembling
the war hawks around the Oval table
Pass martial law,
no more congressional vote
Democracy got the hanging chad Marx rope
Trumped up national security probable cause
triggers the panic protocol
Giving the impotent Republic voters a Caesar
Apathetic dummy crash
the cracked Liberty Bell experimental car —
no more Philadelphia date freedom
Neo-Amerikan philosophy
Fourth Reich theology
New Bolshevik revised history
Pre-emptive strike,
no more Union loyal dissent
Neo-Amerikan philosophy
be Phoenix rising
Old Egyptian idolatry ways
independently witnessed by
a new summer Fourth of July
nuclear winter plumage blaze
There was a pirate from Limerick
Who had a hook on a wooden stick
He stole with one hand
Now it’s contraband
Sold by a one-eyed Bolshevik
jambo flowers falls from the red tree
it even resemble as it blooms, bolshevik
the whole street -painted carmine
ps Obsolete form of jambul.
jambo when FLOWERS fall they form a belle red carpet over sidewalks
a Very Common red FRUIT here
Red TREE IS a Green TREE Full OF red jamboes