Best Politicalheart Poems
The sound of
the wind is
the
wind that
makes the
sound
what is a
sound?
What is a wind?
What is the sound?
What is the
wind?
What is the
sound of the
wind?
Censored the
sound is
shimmering
to fissure the
fetter
a locust of
beigns rigged
out
If war means
death why
do people go
to battle?
war and
battle are
they the
same?
Which one is
bad?
which one
incites a bard?
a necessary
end death is
to Ceasar but
why come
when the end
is
unnecessary?
If hunger that
has hope kills
what does
hopeless
hunger do?
What defines
a foreign cow
and a
local
cow...the
milk or the
colour
Is the
evidence of
absense
same as
absence of
evidence?
If poverty is
indeed a
curse
what is the
cause?
why is killing
someone
called
murder but
killing at
the right time
called politics?
What is
murder?
Is it the same
as mother?
Which one
annihilates
and
which one
creates?
What is
politics?
Is it a game
is it a war
is it a battle
is it evil or
is it all?
What is evil?
Nothing!
The heart
only makes it
so
if the heart
could think
evil
is the heart
not evil?
Since one
acquires
one's mother
tongue
what forbids
one from
acquiring the
murder
tongue too?
If the patient
dog eats the
fattest bone
and a
person
who
arrives at the
well
first
draws the
cleanest water
what then is
the
equilibrium?
Saying what
you mean and
meaning
what you say
are they the same?
Does the
constant
nodding of
the
lizard mean
all is well?
Now the
sound I know
the wind now
I know
but the sound
of the I know
not
Tell me the
sound of the
wind
Columbus, you again
Your rotten caravels still unforgotten
Silhouette of flitting bats
And old wives tale of true honor
For at each wheel
The old African seamen
Rana Raraku
And their big nose images of the Ra
Those who mined iron
For Hittite spear points
Sailing by the shadow of the sun
And the juxtaposition of stars
With Stonehenge rocks
Turned into the wet wilderness
Confident that the moai
Of Easter Island
Knew this way to children
Farther east
And all the while your heart
Was like a wing flapping on the drums
Of a webbed imagination
Let me salute you
For courage
To rob so many nations of their gold
For your cause
The Crusades of intermittent genocide
So much honor
In your hatred of the Hamitic line
And these same colonialists
Who dream their new world order
Celebrate the trauma of days for you
Forgotten grandmothers
And the old fairy comes late to tell
Lies on butterflies,
The shadow on the stair
Webs us in ignorance
Your presence haunts us who dwell
At the crossroads of the rim
An Halloween precursor
Where history's tragedy amidst the cotton
And the cane is buried
Deep in the heart
Talon's of your day's unjust wage
The eagle's egg hatching
Oh, but you did not pay them
except in germs and death
That was strange, stranger than volcanic fire
When will the sun on this crinkling empire set
And all the fables that famished children drink retire
When will the heart breaks free its shackled rage
And Columbus disdain
The contrived yarn spun upon a screen of horror
Columbus, what makes you
Last against the better knowledge of today
The global mindset of global liberation
Why after king and kingdoms gone you remain
Like a gene scripting the margins subjugation
Like a blueprint for new forms of social pain
Oh Columbus, I am in the vice of tooth decay
And no fairy here to bring
My penny for my deep belief.
The revolution is no longer a dream
As we watch it stream
Live on the TV and internet
The sun of tyranny is beginning to set
Get out of your bed
The idea is no longer in your head
Shout out with might
The rising fight
The shackles are squeezing my wrists
As I shuffle the righteous bodies of the deceased
And just four hours later, I join the corpses
And I join my brothers
As the physical reunites with the earth
And the spiritual meets the Lord
But the roaring of the jets
Is not as loud as the resistance they've met
The bullets of fear
Not as powerful as a single tear
As our hearts push, endure, sacrifice, and continue beating
The nation's heart beats with you
As we finally awake from the nightmare we were forced to endure
And the beating heart shakes the lunatic's throne
As he is pushed into the corner of the mess he's thrown
Your time is numbered, it is in writing
As our determination is charged by lightning
We will continue fighting
Awaiting our final rule, so mighty
He walked a mile,
and came back empty-handed,
but in his heart was freedom,
for he was never branded.
He lost battles,
and put the many to rest,
but in his heart was justice
for he fought amongst the best.
He bravely sailed,
amongst the waves was beaten,
but in his heart was meekness,
for he was never taken.
He reigned thus high,
and was always needing more,
but in his heart contentment,
for he walked aside the poor.
He ran the race,
with a torch, he felt the burn,
but within his heart is love,
for he really lived his turn.
Man as I see through
My heart 's mirror reveal
Is a faculty of creativity
A compendium of knowledge
A vast sea of boundless ideas
My heart mirror is deceiving
As my eyes could clearly see
That though man is a beauty
He is only but a "killer"
Killer of dreams,visions and goals
Hush!says my heart to me
What a crime to judge without reason
Man is not a killer but leader
One who has conquered the space
He who has overcome seas-who weilds power on land
Man that made the rocket
It is he that made the atomic bomb
Man that made the Titanic
He made the AK-47
Killer or leader it is man to decide