Best Guevara Poems
soak up the side streets of Montmartre,
Paris, Pigalle on Boulevard de Clichy
class less art combusts then drips
- street beggars & tourists cant
writer Rubbish pastes lace traceries
ala mode decoupaging decay
his cut-paper layers grace anoint
no longer anonymous walls
stencilist C215’s “simply a cat”
defies sourpusses not to smile—see
heaven art yes art with style
the banality of poverty held at bay
pureed souffléd life wolfed-down
colors synced
spray-cannoned Lothario’s like David Walker
entrance Picasso’s on the brink,
Romani-hearted paint peddlers
of the Republique
- street beggars & tourists cant
Thom Thom’s décollage rip-cuts
the billboard scene titillates the unseen
—culture-lovers—can-canned Lautrec’s
bedded with Che Guevara politics
come tilt with the masse
come play your part
in Montmartre
near Pigalle on Boulevard de Clichy
where wicked pissers defy
cliché
First Published in Clockwise Cat January 2015
Aspirations and desires he set out to reach,
One day he will make it and they will all be rich,
From a young age, he carried the burden,
Searching for purpose through it all,
Though it may seem like he figured it out.
Successful they say he is a strong son his mom is pleased
Taken upon his little shoulders,
the weight of a million boulders.
On the outside, he is a warrior with a heart made of steel
On the inside, he is broken from the pain that he feels,
Like he is longing for something but does not know what he is chasing
He tries his best but he sees himself failing the test,
A test he placed upon himself,
So what’s the answer and what is the cure
What’s the solution to being so insecure
it's like trying to fill a bucket right to its top
But its ever so leaking more than he can stop
With all these people looking at him for the answer.
“Give me this”, “give me that” they all demand
that's the least you can do for me, an emotional cancer
what he believes won’t change what is true,
He shows the happy and never the sad,
he twists his desires to fit in their mole,
Posing for the crowd with a smile
But feeling lost from within his soul.
Breadwinner By Sir Guevara.
I
I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes,
your face was in the morning paper;
they shot you dead like a dog,
hunted you out all day and night.
II
They said you'd always been a bad seed
and youths were dying because of you;
they said you're a criminal on the run
with a dirty face and shaggy head.
(Refrain)
But I know you better than they do,
you preached love to all the people;
you fought for them, young and old,
you lit up their nights with your heart.
III
And now as I see you lying dead,
it seems my dreams have vanished as well;
they can call you names, any names they want,
but I know there's only one like you,
there's only one like you,
there's only one Che Guevara.
(Repeat Refrain)
You lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart.
We are the freedom fighters, fighting for survival
Hopefully the next generation follow the same road in their arrival
I wanna make a list of the real ones
Certified legends the true dons
Nelson Mandela led the struggle against apartheid and became president
Heritage of a small village, that’d part of our resident
Marcus Garvey, leader of the Pan-African movement
Wanted us to go back to Africa for improvement
Malcolm X was a warrior in the fight against racism
But people feel he was some type of convict because he went to prison
Martin Luther King brought equal and civil rights for his brothers and sisters
Walked 54 miles for freedom, must have had blisters
Che Guevara was part of the Cuban revolution
To sought out the madness Guerrilla warfare solution
Muhammad Ali, the greatest boxer to step in the ring
Was against war, that’s why I call him king
Fellow freedom fighters, fight for your freedom.
I saw a photograph of a hand
in a museum
thin and emaciated
It does not matter whose hand was this
a blackman, a white, or a colored
A male or a female......
It was an active hand of a factory worker
might be a hand of undernurished African refugee
or a hand of an AIDS victim....
It was a fisted raised hand
with a slogan in a procession
for human rights.....
It was the cut hand of doctor Che Guevara
sacrificed for the latin American people......
The thorns-in-sides are various
which mar incumbents’ slumber.
Could Belgium bear Lumumba?
Would Britain brook Makarios?
There’s Bolsheviks or Mensheviks,
Parnell or De Valera:
Marat had Robespierre, or
the Romans, Vercingetorix.
There’s Che Guevara, Spartakists,
the Mau Mau, Mata Hari,
the Contras, Carbonari,
Hamas, Harmonious Fists.
The song that stops the show?
“It Ain’t Necessarily So”.
Superficial Smiles by Shane Cogan
A trapped house can be worse than a prison
Cell doors open daily, a sealed house door never
Guards who snarl or smile is a guard forever
They also torture, but you found your own prism
Selected friends are such a treasure
Deselect those friends at your leisure
Superficial smiles, superficial cries
Superficial tastes, superficial wastes
Handshakes in the morning
Sour milkshakes for lunch
Diluted conversations for dinner
Repetitive dreams again for bedtime
Small talk discussions over a croissant
Alcohol dimensions under a florescent
Frantic racing is your new norm
A lost cause, caught up in a storm
Superficial smiles, superficial cries
Superficial lies, superficial allies
Silly allergies are your only sickness
You deem painkillers to be your only cure
Subscription pills for the old highs
Illegals for the new lows
What is right in one place
Deemed a disease or a disgrace
Solitude is your new pleasure
Despair is a lonely measure
Superficial smiles, superficial cries
Superficial spies with superficial eyes
Today's headline is tomorrow's forgotten story
Profits over people, with business in all its glory
Che Guevara t-shirts or Guerrilla warfare neritic?
Revolutionary heroes or a Sunday armchair critic?
Mass television pictures replacing dialogue
Mindless headline people news is our new fog
What would you do now for a taste of reality?
Do you miss and crave my sensuality?
A frank remark is better than a false smile
Our historical heroes are now sadly footnoted
No longer accepted, no longer quoted
Smiles mean nothing; a false handshake is our new style
Superficial smiles, superficial cries
Superficial skies with superficial eyes
© Shane Cogan, 2013
Zeitgeist - My 1960s - Liz Walsh
Kaftans, mini-skirts, Carnaby Street fashions.
Angel Delight, Hirondelle wine and that sheepskin rug.
"The price of round steak on a Saturday" while
Magdalen Laundries kept dark, dark secrets!
Nylon socks, Cuban heeled boots, body odour -
"it's always the girl's fault - she led him on!-
Button-down collars, civil Rights Marches,
Suspender belts old fashioned, false eye-lashes black -
Excitment, tights, "parents afraid of the new".
Stilletto heels crucifying, Rosary beads grumbling -
"Oh Sacred Heart of Jesus I place all my trust in thee"
Hamburgers, Fleetwood Mac, Anoraks - guilty! remember
Archbishop McQuaid! Bishop Lucey bullying Father Good!
"Wimpey Take-away" - meet a fella - womans lib!
Vietnam War, Albert Hall and Wilson Pickett.
"Would you kiss a boy on the first date?
Drip dry nylon, Dickie Rock gyrating
"Plastics are the future” the graduate said.
"Would you take the pill?"
Tayto crisps - "cheese and onion" munching in the dark.
Che Guevara, Mao Tse Tung and that little red book
In an empire line dress.
Church domination, contraception and major cigarettes
"Back-combing" Vesta Curries and a packet of smash
Maxi, mini, midi-dresses - pan-stick
Mary Quant, Twiggy and the Film Society party.
Flirting innocently, terrified hope - guilt ridden thoughts.
Surges of males, females standing
Eyes scanning, high pitched laughing
"Would you like to dance?"
Free love, flower power, heart thumping
Expensive shoes, a relic of St. Imelda and a chain-store dress -
"She will only get married” Miss Brigid Hayes said!
Afraid of the future, afraid of corruption
Brain exploding - ALL MIXED UP -
Led down from the tower
Head high and hands bound
Blindfold declined against the wall
Black square pinned to his heart
His eyes afire and shining
And he sang...
He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt
Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury,
Carreras, he sang of Antoine,
Of Sinatra, Lennon, Morrison, Redding
He sang and songbirds paused in flight
He sang like them all
He sang a song of himself
Of leaves of grass, of second comings
Of Byron, and Bharti, and Cummings
He sang of Neruda, and Plath, Tagore
Dickinson, Kamala Das and Naidu
Oh, he sang of them all
He sang of art and beauty
Of Mona Lisa and starry nights
Girls in green dresses and pearls
He sang of Van Gogh, of Picasso
Of Rembrandt, da Vinci
He sang of Michelangelo
He sang of sadness, pain
He sang of My Lai, Sand Creek
Of Guernica and Krystallnacht
He cried and sang of Wounded Knee
Of Katyn Forest, Sabra and Shatila
Oh, he wept as he sang
He sang of history and wonders
He sang of Olduvai and pyramids
Machu Picchu, Tikal, and Angkor Wat
He sang of a great wall, the Taj Mahal
Stonehenge, Easter Isle, Mesa Verde
His song took us to them all
He sang of courage
A song of Bunker Hill, Gettysburg
Of the Alamo, Normandy, Stalingrad
Of Lincoln, Guevara and Dr. King
He sang of Bolivar, Bhutto, Ghandi
He shamed us with their song
He sang his song...
As women sighed and peasants cried
He sang until the rifles fired, he died
Songbirds fell from the sky
Soldiers broke their guns on stones
And marched into the deep blue sea.
4/12/14
"Husk"
3 decades sucked out the marrow
Swallowed yesterdays
Spits out a Queen from the crumbling Tower
Ten of swords
High Priestess
Tarot
Husk arisen
Papillon Lefevre will be killed and bitten
Princess supersedes Queen to conquer Life
Through 'true' Love this is written
So mote it be
To Queen G, Che Guevara freedom given
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
gvlm/llb
““Hard things are put in our way, not to stop us, but to call out our courage and strength.”
“Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn’t know that so it goes on flying anyway.”
Courage, sacrifice, determination, commitment, toughness, heart, talent, guts. That’s what little girls are made of; the heck with sugar and spice.”
"I need you to remember this: There are days, maybe even weeks and months, when it feels like you are never going to move forward. When you doubt yourself because you can't see any progress. But the truth is, if you are waking up every day and doing the hard, beautiful, necessary work of living and learning you are growing. It's impossible not to. So keep going."
https://youtu.be/jA8inmHhx8c
Viktoria Modesta - Prototype
1.Disability/Health
2.Independence
3.Papillon Lefevre Syndrome
High Priestess
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/high-priestess/
The Chariot
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/chariot/
Strength
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/strength/
You are lovely red
Flame of forest everywhere
Red Che in the air
---------------------------------------------
March 3, 2016
Syllables: 5-7-5 (www.howmanysyllables.com)
Che is Che Guevara
Photons of Life
For millennia they remained etched in the very essence of mother Gaia herself
For eons they`ve travelled at sub-sonic speeds within the space we call the universe
They brought light to the darkest realms, casting aside the shadows birthed in oblivion
They emanate from a large, hot stronghold at the center of the Milky Way
They summon life to its prime pinnacle and rejuvenate the one we call the man of steel
Acting like a well-run Chernobyl and Fukushima, they are our source of energy
Han Solo and Darth Vader could not tame the force within them; the empire could never own them
Radicalized and free spirited like the ideals of Che Guevara, they run rampant throughout space
As the world stood in shadows only Einstein saw them for what they really were, only Einstein saw them as particles of light
To mere mortals this spectrum of light rays is like Susan Storm….. Invisible
Moving in single jet-like streams, they teleport themselves into the land of the living
Flashing iridescently for a millisecond, reminding us of the frailties of life, here one minute gone the next
Their jurisdiction knows no bounds, travelling at warp speeds no planet is beyond their reach
The cosmic gods worship them, for without them the cosmos would be a barren wasteland of static waves
A junk yard where shooting stars and meteorites aggregate in their disorientation
Wishes made upon shooting stars would never reach the audience of the Gods
And hideous hordes of space demons would forever terrorize the furthest corners of the galaxy
Mystic beings looked towards the heavens and found streams of photons fighting hordes
Mortal beings looked towards the skies and dreamed of flying above the clouds
They shone on every planet, brought life to the bleak, and sired a new generation of demon slayers
For once Darth Vader trembled; for once Han Solo could take the God on and not perish
To grasp the meaning of my words, you`d have to be up at dawn, to see photons reclaim the skies from darkness, to see the retreating shadows
You`d need to see them banished for the ten hours that the photons rule the skies
You`d need to see these Photons Of life
"The Silent Speakeasy"
she guevara she
sashay speakeasy
monotone in neon poetry
notes not belonging
to diatonic scale of key
chromatic passenger a new story
she guevara she
Anagrams
rebellious
sudoku kings and queens
silent
dusty
schoolmaster (take off your te)
sedate
the eyes
bluest
glare
glean
she guevara she
the silent speak easy
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
“Golden Years” / Bowie
https://youtu.be/HRD0ghlFSgk
key, 9
So tell me
about injustice and hate
Shouting stop censorship
and the KKK
How America sells lies
and blood for oil
Killing Muslims
solely to colonize their soil
Did you forget
who begot who
About Gold, God, Glory
and slavery too
Kind of like Hitler
exterminating the Jews
The London Air Raids
and the apathy that pacifies you
So tell me about revolution
and that propaganda you bleed
Che Guevara and equality of need
Why is it starving Cubans
are swimming for our shore
The Baltic Republics are free
and the Gulags no more
So tell me about freedom
at your friendly neighborhood pub
Drawing gas masks and Swastikas
on your overflowing mug
How burning our flag
suits you just fine
While an Iraqi woman is shot
for speaking her mind
So the next time you scream
about injustice and hate
Extol revolution
and your anarchist state
Remember to ask the Kuwaitis
about capitalists on foreign soil
And who really spilt their blood
for the price of their oil
My wonderful family,
God saved in disguise, gifted mother nature,
Michael Jackson altered and awoke my genes,
Rabindranath Tagore provided an insight into survival,
Leonardo Da Vinci killed my inquisitiveness,
Ernesto Che guevara convinced me “I'd better die standing than live on my knees”,
Kurt Cobain showed there was something in the way,
Enigma took me to utopia,
In books I found solace,
In ordinary people I found the meaning of extraordinary,
Eyes reflecting soul of emotions.