Long Marxism Poems
Long Marxism Poems. Below are the most popular long Marxism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Marxism poems by poem length and keyword.
Russia outproduced the U.S. in artillery, in industry for war
The targets were in Ukraine, deaths that we deplore
The Russians haven't used nukes, Putin didn't allow
The missiles hit in another hemisphere:
for now.
China fortifies its island chains across the southern sea,
Building silos where nuke missiles will be.
It demands Taiwan, it hopes we will kowtow.
A buildup like we've never seen:
for now.
Jihadis rule Afghanistan and Syria too
Imposing in Africa a different world view
Nobody to stop them, will West Africa bow?
I might as well plant begonias:
for now.
Jews have been killed for being Zionist
I have to hope I'm not on some list
I see violence on TV, no sword into a plow
And the raging ocean laps my toes:
For now:
I try to maintain balance on a rope
It's not that I have a false hope
There are bills to pay, paths to wander
Limited time that I don't want to squander
I dread "now" when it finally becomes "then"?
When the storm front faces, when the bear leaves the den.
When we have to fight, but I don't know how
When what we hoped to avoid, becomes imminent now.
The key, for me, must be those onion domes.
Concentric skins, like Russian dolls, contain:
they don’t obtrude. Defensive rings explain
the posture. Let’s not bother Sherlock Holmes
with this one. Save Bill Bailey’s fine-tooth combs.
They feared for Minsk, like others fear for Maine.
The Wall was there, so brains would cease to drain
towards those tail-fins, all decked out in chrome.
They tried to build a comely comfort-zone,
a space to place a hundred home-grown flowers.
We couldn’t wait to see it overthrown
(Archangel, Wayne, Polaris, Gary Powers,
Capone, Stallone, Cohns, drones and Sharon Stone).
They wanted only to be left alone.
("Portal of Souls", 2019, original encaustic)
Just Another Door
Our society is sick
Spiritually sick
Because it has lost religion
Or transferred it to hollow
Shallow faiths – such as Scientism,
Environmentalism, Feminism, Marxism
Which can give us literally nothing
At death’s door.
Death should be the big day
What our lives have been not only heading to
But aiming for, preparing for
As our BIG day – THE day –
D-Day.
People prepare for other big days;
Prom nights, graduations, weddings, births
But curiously
Not death.
How do you want to die?
Or put another way,
Do you want to die randomly,
And without direction
Or with intention and vision?
Either way, it’s just another door.
(9/19/23)
Communism. About freedom it is not
But mostly around stagnation and rot
It spells trouble, revolution on Earth
And something to give your widest berth
A dogma that doesn't want to die
No country succeeded it giving a try
"Take from the rich and give to the poor"
One-word description? Horsesh*t. Manure.
It is not about building wealth
But about poor mental health
Of anyone who supports Communism
A.k.a. Maoism, socialism, Marxism
Goal: spend the money you ain't got
Alter the world, destruction wrought
Rip the fabric, cause capital flight
Aggression, hate, power grab and spite
Oh, sounds great "Workers, unite"
Future's fake promise, it wouldn't be bright
Law and order? No, never heard
Political moves of threat and absurd
"Capitalism - bad, communism - good"
Free buses for needy and almost free food
Long lines and shortage, with circus decrees
With people in power without degrees
Lies every step, communism's tag
Hammer and sickle on red goddamn flag
Division, derision, "hurray for our side"
Slow yet persistent, a downward slide
No First, Second or even the Fourth
T'was a short study, the Commie course
Bad weather is coming, I must admit,
My hapless city is soon to be hit
November 8, 2025
New York City, USA
I ask, at what cost?
Coiled beneath the leaves, nothing is seen of his reprieve.
The viper’s warning is curtailed.
Silently masked among the decay, a wooden shelter becomes his stay.
The viper’s ambush is prepared.
Wanting, searching, like field mice the children are learning.
The teacher prepares to pounce.
Writhing, frothing, innocence from adolescence is fleeting.
Status quo, they begin to denounce.
Like poison, consumption, coveting is quickening within the arterial circulation.
Rebellious youth herald Marxist slogans.
Crying, suffering, parents beg for an answering.
Who trespassed within the kindergartens?
Forty Years now lost.
Imagine, if you will, working the land.
You knead it, tend it, love it. You belong.
Its wants, its moods, its needs, you understand,
for you arose from it. You sing its song.
The Father-god sends fluids from the sky
to fertilize the Mother, here below.
You help her raise her young. Who need ask why?
It's as it's always been. You simply know.
However. There's a steam-forge in the glen,
a brooding squatting thing, which reeks and groans.
The fat man in the stove-pipe hat gives tokens
to those who'll quit the land. Pity those men!
Those rootless, soulless wraiths, diminished, broken,
divorced from soil, machine-oil in their bones!
Kathy Boudin thought the U.S. beyond repair,
She thought she saw the deep reality, and it was unfair.
From SDS to the Weather Underground,
She dived deep in Marxism, plain sense no longer found.
A bomb went off, unintended, by chance,
Meant to shatter lives at a soldier's dance.
Kathy didn't learn from that gory scene,
She fled intact, still in the radical dream.
She tasted deeply of the bitter cup,
When stopped by cops, she gave herself up.
But behind her guns took two cops away,
In Bedford prison for years, her price to pay
[chorus]
You say you're for right, end up for the reverse
The end of the road is a funeral hearse
The road to hell is paved with ideals,
Know thyself, its honesty that heals
A model prisoner, sorry but still red
After decades released, but her victims just as dead
Then hired at a university of high renown
Or was Columbia just a facade, already going down
A contrast was Yeonmi Park, a source of light
She escaped North Korea one frozen night
Walked across the Gobi Desert, a long, hard trek
Got mercy when she held a knife to her neck
Columbia told Yeonmi patriarchy to blame,
To censor her voice or join in their victim game.
Echos of a homeland that brooked no debate
Both places she observed anti-American hate
In North Korea you had to obey
In the U.S. students would throw their rights away
North Korea's great leader, a feudal regression
But U.S. Students had illusions of oppression.
[chorus]
You say you're for right, end up for the reverse
The end of the road is a funeral hearse
The road to hell is paved with ideals,
Know thyself, its honesty that heals
Boudin thought it moral to join the B.L.A
A Black Army who claimed crime was OK
She thought it was not for her to ask why
Trust the oppressed, her self-erasing lie.
At the Hamas protests, a leftist describes
Students manic, electric dazed look in their eyes
Who, do you think, more worthy of respect
Yeonmi, Kathy, which one ultimately correct?
Which way will those students go
Will they relearn what the rest of us know?
Must they repeat Boudin's trail of fear
Is there any intelligent life down here?
Capitalism is you paying a dog sitter
To take care of your two poodles
Capitalism is the Mets paying a great hitter
Or your mom, shopping for noodles.
Capitalism is hiring friends you once knew
To start a company, see an idea through
But some will target you and demonize
If the idea works, after many tries.
They say the profit motive is the key
to exploit the worker, cut down every tree
Rich people get rich because of greed
They shouldn't own more than what they need.
If a fat man stands by a thin lady, they infer
He got his meals by taking them from her.
They have a plan, they'll change how we live
To each what we need, from each what we give.
But its been tried before, in variations
Too much stagnation in welfare state nations
And when healthcare is run by the state
You'll get your cancer treatments, six months late.
Under Mao and Stalin, dissidents die
Don't argue with your new rulers, don't even try.
Be careful with facts that your kids should know
Kids better bend with the wind, or to the gulag they'll go.
But maybe free enterprise is not credible
And government cronyism is inevitable.
Social engineers pass mandates from on high
Companies too big to fail bailed by the little guy.
Just a treadmill to say in one place
No social movement, stuck on first base.
But there too, government had paws on the scale
Trillions in debt, educate kids to fail
Take a place like East Stroudsburg, PA
Forty percent of middle-schoolers didn’t feel safe.
Most little kids afraid to go to the bathroom.
Its all government run, a horizon of gloom.
Life is tradeoffs, every engineer knows
Cutting costs can matter, even lives lost
But money doesn't grow on trees
And life's necessities aren't free.
You can make socialism your ideal
Can say that you care, their pain you feel
But some of us will strive for a free market instead
The star we follow won't be red.
Wrongthink is any think
You might do on your own,
You know, in the vastness
Of your inner space
As cloud trains drift by
Morphing into shapes
As fanciful as you allow.
Rightthink in contrast
Is mind control from without
With nothing fanciful or free allowed,
Just dogma and doctrine
And all the usual stuff
That makes thinking a chore and bore
Leaving us free to accept
Whatever it is they say we need to know.
Rightthink becomes our think
When we have lost touch
With what it means to be free
‘Cause being free
Means not knowing what might come next
As cloud trains pass
And shapes morph
Outside the boundaries of our mind.
(2/19/24)
History moves in cycles, tides of energy
And interest, passions and powers.
What was becomes replaced
With what is
Until it too is replaced
Often with just a reborn version of the old.
But symbols hold more than mere meaning
They hold power, or rather unleash power,
And so when old symbols are reborn,
So too are their powers released.
So with the return of the goddess,
The pagan forces of nature,
Once replaced in full by something
More spiritual and new,
Now rise in a secular materialism
An idea and ideal of a Heaven on Earth
In the form of Marxism, Fascism,
Communism, Feminism, Environmentalism,
Globalism, Post-modernism, Hedonism
Or Shedonism. But whatever the ism,
The gist is always an obtainable dream
To have and to hold, here and now.
So we get equality and equity for all
Regardless of who actually deserves it.
We get a women’s lib
Which in effect takes on the worst aspects
Of masculinity, or rather applies
The distinctively masculine
To what is by nature its opposite and complement.
The result, of course, is the expected chaos
Of women acting like men
And men acting like women,
And I don’t mean trans,
Just simply hard and soft.
What was always yielding by nature
Has become rigid and tough
At least on the surface
As the heart inside withers and cries,
A virtueless victim of its own desires,
Its body in need of healing
Futile rituals of body-count reset,
Like a baptism of renewal
In endless lunar cycles.
But no amount of reset purification
Can make you really feel like a virgin again.
The goddess has returned
But it is not the form
Of a pure and chaste Athena we see.
Instead we have Inanna-Ishtar,
But now an Ishtar on the pill.
And if she somehow manages to get herself
Knocked up, then heaven help us,
Because her form is then likely to become
A child eating Lamia.
You shudder and laugh nervously
Or in outright derision of a repressive
And repulsive patriarchy I see,
And yet don’t you see, all around us now
The goddess has returned, but not
To her sacred core, instead in outward flight
With a vengeful attitude and score.
History moves in cycles, tides of energy,
And on the tides
All the flotsam and jetsam
Of the past rides too.
(10/7/26)