Truth and facts are twins,
born from the same silence,
cradled in the same light,
yet hunted by different men.
Facts stand naked in the marketplace,
cold, stubborn, unmoving.
Numbers etched into stone,
events that happened whether we like them or not.
But truth…
truth walks deeper.
It enters the soul of things,
breathes beneath statistics,
and whispers what facts alone cannot explain.
A fact may tell you
that chains once held a people.
Truth will tell you
how those chains still echo in their minds.
A fact may record
the fall of a nation.
Truth will reveal
who sold its future in the dark.
And so the world fears them both.
Because facts expose lies,
but truth exposes intentions.
Politicians manipulate facts,
crowds distort truth,
and loyalists bury both
beneath noise and emotion.
Yet the twins endure.
For facts are the footprints of reality,
and truth is the soul that left them behind.
Separate them,
and society becomes blind.
Unite them,
and even darkness begins to confess.
America First has a long history
Over 250 years now
Of resisting the tyranny of kings.
Needless to say, Trump is the obvious face
Of America First,
And yet here he is being called a king.
The irony is those now opposed to MAGA
Would have been opposed to America’s independence
And so called “loyalists” back then.
Loyal to what we might ask?
To the top down power of the monarchy
To the mercantilist crony capitalism of the day
To a status quo that didn’t want anything to change.
Kings like this kind of stability after all,
Not being elected to serve a limited term
They worry about the only way they can be replaced
And that is through death.
But real kings these days are figure heads,
Not doers or even tyrants
But remnants of past glories
Held up to inspire and unite a culture.
Maybe the protests today aren’t really for no kings
As much as not their king.
If they were really honest they’d have just
Had a posthumous crowning ceremony
For their immortal King
Karl of Marx.
(10/18/25)
To see America in this place makes me weep,
when the only hope we have to spread our message.
Maybe to take up our arms and march through the street,
in an attempt to save ourselves from the wreckage.
They regulate all our thoughts and actions freely,
as they sell us diet colas and empty hope.
They can sell us our leaders just as easily,
when we traded our religion for their plug-in trope.
Who are those faceless men hiding in the shadow,
pushing the buttons to destroy all resistance?
Bring them forward to face us in the light and show,
why a corrupt Government deserves existence.
Step forward all true American loyalists,
take back the land of the free, the home of the brave.
Perhaps this might be the only chance we will get,
will it be liberty or a walk to the grave?
Pakistan is my beloved homeland country.
And i am too much honest,sincere, loyalists & trustworthy to my own country Pakistan.
I will devote the chain of my limitless love, affection & my all best skills to my beloved country Pakistan to give it outstanding progress.
If my beloved country Pakistan,if it is possible for me.
I will give you full protection from all kinds of danger and your enemies.
I will keep save you from autumn,
And there will always a happy season of spring through out the Pakistan for whole lifetime.inshAllah.
I am too much patriotic so i have shown too much patriotism to my beloved country Pakistan.
I will sacrifice my life to protect you,
I don't want to be more than that.
I will not sacrifice only my life to save you.I will sacrifice thousand lives to save my beloved country Pakistan.
Pakistan is my beloved homeland country.
And i am too much honest,sincere, loyalists & trustworthy to my own country Pakistan.
I will devote the chain of my limitless love, affection & my all best skills to my beloved country Pakistan to give it outstanding progress.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran.
https://youtu.be/xZ8tNY607nc
To The Now-Pitied President
No longer thought God-Sent
The making of superb contacts
For entry into cleaner contracts
Is a command to avoid patched-up pacts
And-trust-me – costs you True Logisticians
Besides Sincere Magicians;
If the packages are not to hit the rocks
Or more keys appear with stubborn locks;
“If truly thou seekest a final Turn Around
That shouldest not later sink underground…”
For stiff orders you might bark
And mighty millions earmark
But Glorified Brains the cracked
And Misjudging Misfits the backed,
Progress, sure, shall slack
And one begins to Loyalists sack
The Guys one once shook their hands drop
And their disarming salaries stop…
Now, you are rather The Outgoing
And faster thoughts won’t be flowing,
For so it goes with injury time
While Careless Clock continues to chime
But there really was an F. Kennedy,
After 100 Days, ready remedy…
So, while this Counseling Milk you suck,
I wish you A Suckling's Good Luck.
It's a grand old boat-still quite reliable.
But from the darkness below.
A crimson-breasted leviathan is clawing holes.
Deep into its starry soul.
She's listing rather quickly.
Vermin gnawing away at the sextant.
The panicked are hastily jumping ship.
With the North Star stuffed in their bindles...
The loyalists are bailing water.
Hope is blistered and garnished with salt.
Predators are slowly circling in.
To the beat of a cracked conch shell.
He that trod upon subservient Europe
with the imperial guards' fighting prowess,
did himself and his heartthrob the empress,
entrench thrones jointly owned by their hookup.
He that caused guns to rage on Europe's plains,
and cannons to thunder on Egypt's sands,
sent hussars and mamluks to distant flight.
He usurped crowns for his dear siblings' gains,
and enthroned loyalists to head vanquished lands.
But was banished for good from France's sight
after a stunning loss on Belgium's plains.
You wear virtue on your sleeve
But you often wear nothing at all
Showing scars of thousands of years
When corrupt leaders beat you
But they could never kill you
So you survived the centuries
You masquerade as a maryr
To the displaced masses
You offer the guise of salvation
But greed feeds your desire
We should be happy
We should be dancing
They say we have it all
While others endure the fall
We feared the loyalists
We feared the little green men
We feared those in the hijab
For as long as we fear
We shall never see the truth
Of our own looming demise
You always sell pretty lies
To disguise an ugly truth
The scales remain imbalanced
And resentment festers
We're gears in the machine
And no matter how many
Throw themselves between the gears
The machine never stops
But now it's so odious
So sick at heart we don't take part
We're the land of opportunity
Unless you're a minority
Unless you're a woman
Unless you're a Muslim
Unless you're poor
Wealth concentration
A planet slowly dying
You survived the centuries
But you do not bring us salvation
You bring us damnation
True patriots,
regardless of color, creed, or cathartic party,
are loyal to cooperative interdependent change
from below
and within
as needed to liberally balance conserving health
to co-empower compassionately wealthy democracy.
Fake patriots
are like colonial loyalists
supporting patriarchal monocultures,
status quo
business as competitively usual,
dubiously needed to reactively protect
exclusive
from above
and outside wealth of kings.
As if patriotic wealth could ever survive
privileged autonomous apartheid,
one way receiving,
without any giving back
EarthTribe eco-patriotic value.
Passion can overpower
all resonant and dissonant voices,
for a brief flash of reactionary time.
Autonomous passion can behave so loudly,
univocally self-invested,
that Others' passions are no longer heard--
inviting impassioned debate
disinviting dialogue.
When compassion errs,
we are under-powered fragments
fractured from future's long-term opportunities.
Passion shines red-blooded brilliant.
Compassion listens
for cooperative patriotic resilient.
Like Abraham Maslow's highest Hierarchy of needs theory,
You are a ruler, self actualized and need not to worry.
You look down to downgrade the poor from your mansion,
That has been your passion.
You shine so bright like a light,
Brightening the paths of your loyalists at night,
You have stood time still,
Crushed emotions, souls and let their blood spill.
You buried the hapless, unknowingly they metamorphosed into a seed,
They germinated. In you, that sprung up greed.
Many are still afraid to be massacred,
Seeing you from afar with their beautiful eyes that are not mascaraed.
Your marginalization pierced them like arrows,
The pains registered but they lacked no songs like sparrows.
Amid the direful calamities of the time,
They stood tall beneath the cold glare of your desolate crime.
As they rule their world, the death of your dynasty and tenure came so fast,
In anguish, you are dallying in maudlin regret over the past.
I'm sorry you have collapsed into a dreary and hysterical depression,
Making your days to be brief, shadowed and full of condemnation.
I believed Anita Hill;
So did all my friends.
History repeats itself;
We know how it ends.
Watching makes my stomach turn
For loyalists won’t budge
And thus the Court will have on board
Another suspect judge.
It really isn’t a surprise
When those in our regime
Distort the truth with consequences,
In this case, Supreme.
My Beloved country Pakistan:(Poem)
Pakistan is my beloved homeland country.
And i am too much honest,sincere, Loyalists & trustworthy to my own country pakistan.
I will devote the chain of my limitless love, affection & my all best skills to my beloved country pakistan to give it outstanding progress.
If my beloved country pakistan,if it is possible for me.
I will give you full protection from all kinds of danger and your enemies.
I will keep save you from autumn,
And there will always a happy season of spring through out the pakistan for whole lifetime.inshAllah.
I am too much patriotic so i have shown too much patriotism to my beloved country pakistan.
I will sacrifice my life to protect you,
I donot want to be more than that.
I will not sacrifice only my life to save you.i will sacrifice thousand lives to save my beloved country Pakistan.
Pakistan is my beloved homeland country.
And i am too much honest,sincere, Loyalists & trustworthy to my own country pakistan.
I will devote the chain of my limitless love, affection & my all best skills to my beloved country pakistan to give it outstanding progress.
By Miss Aliza Kashmala Kiran.
Blood runs hot in government offices
fueled with the unknown citizen
and the about-to-be.
Stop this day and night with me
and you shall possess the meaning
of freedom.
Follow the fluttering and tattered flag
and you'll find
the emptiness one dreams about.
Friendships made and unmade,
betrayals reveal political lines
on potholed roads.
(you're free?)
(we don't care, we don't care)
You're free, alone amongst
the party loyalists
and the damned.
Follow winding
corridors through closed doors.
Follow patriotic thoughts
and the hungry hyenas will gather.
Follow them on the untrodden land
and contingent lines you make.
Wander the scattered chiefdoms
into the horizons
which still keep the graves
and their remembrance alive.
LEAVES WITH LOVE
Better die with dignity in the fierce battle fighting like brave-heart
Than befriend with foes and back stab to live like machine’s cog or caged parrot
When the fetter is making my torn limbs numb
With wily smile, dragging me
Push they to guillotine
Echoing from lofty mountains my roar reached crescendo silencing the thunder-
You bloody cowards luring few of my own men have captured me by treason
How treacherous and shameful! Deceitful victory is a celebration’s reason?
Bleeding tears fail to douse my fury’s inferno against my betraying men no wonder
When blade ripped my neck
flowed my blood and loyalists' tears
Soul wished this flow cleansed
Double game and breach of trust
Leaves with love, praise and blessings
Date: 08-09-2016
Contest Name: Challenge- write one
Black loyalist
One time slave of George Washington
Fighting with the British against rotten Yankees
3000 blacks went with us and came with us
In the States now
Black folks but seeming there now just left to rot
But cherished now our black loyalists in England
Part of us
Last night I dreamt a dreary dream
Beyond the clashing rocks
I saw a dead man win a fight
And I think that man was I
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