Best Radicalism Poems
Solid roots buried deep within the earth
Though a chimera
Far above the dense ground
High high above
Where there is no one else around
But down down below
To a place rarely talked about
Where everybody goes
To confront the darkness that lies within
Slowly eating away at our soul
Slowly devouring us all
A species as a whole
Will things ever change?
yes
For better or worse
The answer is unknown
Whether or not we choose to live life recklessly
We all endure our own kind of legacy
Whether or not we choose to be seen
Is irrelative to our destiny
Run from Fame
Ego
Arrogance
Radicalism
Carrying the restricted hatred of shame
With nothing of any true value to gain
Chasing satisfaction
In an immoral domain
Having the power to enthrall the criminally insane
Having to always pretend to play this game
Hoping that it’s all a game
All from the same death set aflame
Burning ghosts of an iridescent pain
Praying that some sense of morality still remains
A revolution without radicals
is like
squash casserole without squash.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, and just so ya know, radicalism and violence are two completely unrelated terms.
Form:
It is funny!
Very funny how
A masked preacher can preach honesty;
And even points at the wrongs with his
Fingers of hypocritical righteousness…
We stare with grim satisfaction
Because the black winged Angel
Ridding a flaming chariot tells a tale;
And proclaims that God is love,
Yet he, himself is an Angel of death.
Day after wretched day Humanity walks!
He walks down the dark alley of freedom;
Freedom which shouts fairness;
Fairness that begets confusion—
And he tries to bottle the spittle of birds…
Every night he lies in bed and tries to hear
The voice of fishes shouting gender and Sexualty in a world where the scale of
Equality is unevenly proportional and
Equal rights mean the oppression of men.
Apartheid, the history of Mzanzi is
The present for the African world and
That has caused his inferiority complexes
To suffice and personalize racism and
One after another, generations play along.
Lest we forget,
The victims are just as guilty
As the perpetrators but at some point.
Humanity weeps as he inspects
His isle of hopelessness!
But just like the majority, men;
They cry in hiding.
Where no-one sees,
No-one hears and
No-one dares speak for the black sheep!
Deep down this egocentric radicalism,
He orders rotten eggs to make an omelette
With which he feeds pirate justice,
And he goes all year long
On a running stomach.
Although the words never sink,
Humanity hearkens to
The rumbling stomach of justice but
When the rainbow of life turns
Grey!
Humanity's children cry day and night
While the Angel of death entrusted
Their protection feasts on their tears
And dances to the beautiful sound
Of their troubled voices.
And when the wolf comes for their
Brazen souls we hail at the smiling lady
Who says 'I am virgin Mary'
With fangs behind her white vail
And poison under her tongue—death!
The rich are poor but morally,
Yet no-one sees
And no-one cares;
They say 'each one for himself'
Come shall the final hour do.
It is funny!
Very funny how
A masked preacher can preach honesty;
And even points at the wrongs with his
Fingers of hypocritical righteousness…
Humanity looks on
And passes his judgement.
The masked preacher scoffs:
“No-one is perfect.
No, not one!”
One does not stamp out radicalism
any more than one outspends capitalism
or fights successfully against militarism
or overpowers totalitarianism.
We might fade out radicalism,
co-invest capital in cooperative objectives for health,
discern together removing threats of mutually assured violence
and democratize polycultural empowerment
by inviting therapy through all natural-spiritual nondual valuables,
dynamics and animations
within Earth's ecosystemic
universally open spacetime network.
How does it help to invite healing
by calling profound mental unbalance
cowardice?
Why choose the epithet "coward"
to describe terrorizing violent behavior
intent
thoughts against those who intend no active harm
to radicalized perpetrators?
Perhaps this is cowardly behavior
but this is not the first
or most significant
word coming to my mind.
This speaks of fear and anger
and chronically invested misanthropic hatreds,
fueled by competing over-heated environments,
internal and external.
To speak cowardice
to paranoia and ego-distorted sickness
only adds fuel to flames
we would more therapeutically abate
by inviting cultures of deep learning integrity
profoundly sacred ecology
multiculturally and polypathically seen and known
and felt,
inviting mutual embrace of fears
and angers
and lingering learned distrusts.
Chronic stamping on each other,
over each other,
causes further radicalism.
Chronic over-investing in WinLose strategies
caused ravages of capitalism,
dimming richer denser potential
within cooperative ownership and investment
of both capital and equity,
deductive minds and inductive hearts.
Chronic climates of advanced industrial militarism
cause further defaults toward competing
by violent fighting and threat.
Chronic ecopolitical overpowering
of those who feel angry and scared,
left out and behind,
fearful and terrified by violence,
their own and others'
stamping and stomping,
invites further totalitarian plutocracies,
rather than profoundly radical
healthy cooperatives
of growing nutritional democracy
of and for and by and through fair integrity,
cooperative trusting liberty
outshining rights of static freedom.
Yesterday morning, while waiting,
nursing a too-expensive latte,
I read poems by Dylan Thomas
from a worn paperback of English poetry
that my friend, a poet,
bought last weekend
at an estate sale
for ten cents.
In the evening, at home,
I listened to Bob Dylan
while reading the stories behind
the songs he wrote from 1962 to 1969,
my years of fatherhood, divorce, and radicalism,
rather than watching “The Voice,”
my one and only fall into the slippery world
of “reality television.”
For a bit of balance,
or maybe a jolt,
although that’s not a good thing
to do before bedtime,
I stirred in whiplash verses
from e.e. cummings
before I took my pills
and turned down the volume
in my head for the night.
I thrive on putting my emotions up for show so go ahead window shop I don't mind, maybe one day I'll draw the line instead of tracing how I should react, reminiscing on sin how I did relapse, I can't take back what I did or said so right now this is me after the aftermath of me making my bed. Truth is, all of this Radicalism as a Christian I'm bout it that's a given, What's the worst that can happen to me, Death? I'm still a misfit on death row with no death sentence. Where they do that @ in the Kingdom of Heaven so I count it all joy if I'm worthy to endure persecution, getting beat severely and arrested I'm married to the King sin tried to separate and divorce us but Christ Jesus contested it, second...my track record as far as relationships goes is Pretty low, so truthfully speaking I gotta good resume but that's all for show. I don't know if I ever will find the one that God has for me, his timing is perfect emotionally I'm hurting I gotta heart condition what I really want is a surgeon. I'm not one of those Americans who think I'm deserving of love, but Christ gave me that ever since the day I was born, so I been searching for just that in the feminine form, funny right? I put it on display but brokenness is the last thing they expect, I've done some women wrong, lead them on but still I live this life with no regrets, with this one I refuse to let up this is the real me I removed the mask, I hate bringing, thinking about, or even dreaming about my past, it's past tensed and some moments are Pretty intensed, I say I'm ready for true love to commence but everyone has flaws even me, how ironic I guess I'm the one all along who's really been on the fence, I wanna take the good without the bad because in all actuality I believe this world still hasn't phased me
Burnout
is what can come of inspiration,
if you're not careful.
Gish Jen
Degeneration
is what can follow manic fast-growth regeneration,
if you're not well-seasoned.
War and terror
can come from tribal competitions,
peace and freedom fighting and squabbling
for healthy food and water and fuel,
if you're not co-empathic enough,
double-bound Win-Win equivalently bilateral
secure,
conservational,
restorative co-messiahs,
bodhisattvas,
eco-yogis
noticing and stretching
designing and cooperatively networking,
dancing and singing.
Hate and anger and fear
are what can come from love and faith and hope,
if we're not health care receivers enough,
and cooperative givers-forward,
co-investors of and for HealthCare,
filling toward CareFull with Humble Gratitude,
both Ego-Eco Logists
Logos of health systemic trends,
as contrasted against
social and ecopolitical and personal Loser NonElite pathologies.
Zealous fundamentalism
is what can come from counter-cultural radicalism,
if you're not listening to karmic grace
multiculturally enough.
Fascism
is what can come from NonElite exclusionary democracy
if you're not grateful for WinWin creolizing therapies
and humble about past retributive colonizing traumas
enough.
Jihad terrorism
is what can come from too-divinely supremacist inspired
retributive injustice
if we are not HealthCare ecologically inclusive enough.
Holocaust
is what can come from Paradise Lost
if we are not listening cooperatively enough
to both internal landscapes
and external climates for ecological health.
LeftBrain Burnout
is what can come of SacredElder RightBrain inspired
NewYear EcoLogical Resolutions,
if you're not careful.
Too many listen and give in to domestic terrorism/
Home’s a wreck and terror’s risen for our children/
Most don’t inspect many carry on missing radicalism in their own colosseum/
No call to see ‘em no wall we’ll greet ‘em /
I’ll sprawl and take any call to free them from whatever bad man/
From the tales we’re told as kids too tall for our short attention span/
To the guide rails blurred /
As they asked his to crawl when they need to get walking/
You see them down that’s the only way you’re kicking it with kin/
It’s true I’m on a path of a one pony savior gripping it and withering/
All new weathering whether winning or taking a slipping loss never falling/
Re-gripping your loft to grow a new crop for your own sods sawing
Under the sky of revolutions, the architects of absolutes rose,
cloaked in the pride of dogmas, their words bleeding on the edge of new chains,
shouting freedom while forging other shining shackles,
and the air smelled of paradox, each faction a sharp blade
cutting its own throat, all in the name of continuous progress,
but how many empires must suffocate under the weight of their beliefs?
A circle of fire that consumes itself, preaching the destruction of the old world,
stones fell, virtues disappeared, leaving only the threads of chaos,
in their eyes, ideals were not mirrors, but sharp weapons,
fragile when faced with harsh truths, they forgot that pure light also casts a shadow,
radicalism blooms where doubt dies, but the roots rot unseen,
any doctrine, absolute in its marrow, becomes a noose for those who question,
the prophets screamed about justice at any cost, but without mercy, tyranny only changes its form,
the ground trembled not from the weight of righteousness, but from ignored cracks,
history is a wheel, oiled with blood, spinning under blind convictions,
they danced blindfolded to the music of their own destruction, a question floated in the ash:
what use is a kingdom of rubble when the architects are buried beneath it?
In the end, they did not fall to enemies, nor to gods, nor to the passage of time,
but to their own reflection, a thousand truths warring until nothing remained
but silence and smoke rising from the ruins of a shattered dream.
The Youth, now lives amongst lies not in truth
Raised by propaganda and taught by the media’s ways
No one’s yearning to begin true learning
Such shameful ways of living, these are truly new days.
They’d rather listen to the voice on the radio rather their conscious
Do away with the books, become crooks then engage in nonsense
In truth, not all but collectively this is our new youth
Created by characters of MTV and radicalism they see
Not true adults the youth should aspire to be
An age when guys clothe themselves in women’s attires
An age when the youngest children are trained as hypocritical liars
An age of no heroes and individuality
An age that is beginning to adjust to insanity
This the age of the youth
We’re all screwed
I don't know whether this border
is right behaving so-so
but I know its radicalism
I know its severity
I don't know whether
all borders are so
and if so is their law
then "congratulations" and
"salutations" to borders
for that is a general rule
perhaps, world knew it
on the other hand
if it is different, two
problems arise
that is a monster growing
and how to call it
I think to this end
let stop any of its colour if found to be
a morally wrong differential experience.
She always wondered how it would be
If she, a black girl starred in a romantic comedy
Where she wouldn't just be used as comic relief
And she would be desired by the male lead
She dreamed of being comforted
And not play a strong black girl where she wouldn't be punished for being seen as 'weak'
She could be an inspiration for little black kids where they finally see
A black girl on the TV
Finally feeling seen
As their eyes are glued to the screen
She hoped one day this would become a reality
If not her
Then another black girl
When she was a kid
There was little to no representation
Only seeing white people in all the shows and movies
She had hoped she'd find someone who looked like her
She remembers how she questioned her worth
And how on earth
People who shared her skin colour
Were just background characters
Or to bear the weight of their white best friends burden
And being forced to carry their problems
A one sided friendship
Where her friend reaps the benefits
And the black girl has to settle with crumbs
She knew that sounded to radical
For a world that wanted her to be invisible
But she couldn't stop thinking
How all the black children would feel
If they saw themselves being
Represented on TV
She thought for them this would be a victory
For them this would make history