Rebellion Poems - Poems about Rebellion

They claimed they freed us But if chains instead of whips Was your idea of freedom We'd rather be dead At least then we wouldn't have to deal with your racism All you did was remove the sun Put is in solitary confinement Psychologically tortured us If this is your idea of an apology We'd hate to see the solution Was...

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You would pardon insurrection -freedom to mob, good people; while pouring ICE on immigration -Free rides National Guarded Rebellion Breached Vigilante Patriotism Rebellion Protest Discontent Nonviolent Rebellion While pouring ICE on immigration Free rides -National Guarded, you would pardon insurrection -freedom to mob, good people ...

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My heart The voice Each beat a chant Refusing to be silenced Each beat getting louder An act of defiance It would not be quiet Our skeleton The foundation The vessel which carried the rebellion It's the ground that doesn't crumble Even as we march It doesn't take the attention It remains humble Knowing that it was not bigger than the movement The blood...

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One of our only protectors The sun burns their skins With the reminder of their sins The sun kisses our skin Gifting it with affection The wind echoes with our ancestors stories A silent act of justice A way to honour black history To haunt the guilty The wind lifts our heads up To remind us That they can't break us And that...

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Obedience is a spell. But some bloodlines carry thunder in their sleep. They will call it rebellion. But it is remembering - the heartbeat beneath the ruin, the fire before the name, before the world was trained to forget its own divinity. Before the myths bent truth into control - there were those who shaped stars with their breath and did not ask permission. ...

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Their violence Our defiance Their complaint Not our debate Their envy Fuels our energy Their violence We won't be silenced Their ignorance Can't bother us Our energy They aren't ready Our voice They have no choice Our power They are sour Our strength They try to destroy by going to these great lengths Can you finally understand The matter at hand Do you...

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I wore my sins like velvet lace, Then set your garden all ablaze. I never once said I was kind-- I only promised not to mind. The chandelier you loved? It fell. I laughed and called it “doing well.” Your rules were quaint, but far too tight-- I loosened them with fire and bite. Abandon all grace here, my dear-- The wine is sharp,...

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"I’m Still Here, And I Will Shake You" I’ve walked roads you wouldn’t whisper about. Where shadows don’t follow, they lead. Where the air tastes like sorrow and the silence presses like a loaded gun against your temple at 3 a.m. The dirt remembers me. It groans where I nearly gave up, where the weight of my own breath felt like betrayal. You want real? Not...

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The future won’t arrive with trumpets— no brass echo to herald salvation, no golden scroll unrolled beneath a bleeding sun. It will leak, like soft radiation through the seams of our sleep, like forgotten news, scrolling endlessly on a screen no one is watching. It begins now— in the blinkless eye of the surveillance bee, the hum of servers beneath a monastery, the last human artisan training...

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The sound of wheels on tarmac Keeps me focused Keeps me grounded Keeps me present The sound of wheels on tarmac Takes me farther and farther away From everything I have ever known Chained up like a worthless dog The sound of wheels on tarmac Reminds me that rebellion Always comes at a price You just have to decide if it’s worth the prize The sound of...

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It’s hard to always know in life which way is best to go. Following fads and trends tends to be not, from what I know. But does that mean in everything you go the other way? I’ve tried that and I’ll tell you what at the end of the day - if you live life against the grain most times you will be right. But if it’s...

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Brains and guts orbit the soul— that polar star searing in the marrow of being. I was born somewhere between Einstein’s neurons Ginsburg beat poetry, the birth of rock and roll, revolution marches, and the calloused hands of a carpenter, where ink stains fight oil slicks, where the soft susurrations of Plato wrestle the raw shouts of Spartacus. Do you think Socrates...

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For Tom's 1984 The Fall of Big Brother In the dark soil beneath the weight of stone and silence, the meek are not mere shadows, they are tubers, reaching deep in furtive places, attracted by the throb of earth’s abandoned wisdom, nourished by murmurs from organic charcoaled scrolls, faded fusain etchings, and ageless voices interred in the dust. The surface cracks open in silence, quiet shoots, that...

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They came with flags, with fire, with steel, Spoke of trade, yet came to steal. Lands once free, now marked and chained, A stranger's law, a tyrant's reign. They mapped the sky, they named the trees, Measured rivers, claimed the seas. Their words replaced the native tongue, Ancient songs left unsung. Not just land—our minds they took, Rewrote the past in gilded books. Fed us...

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In the copper-clad cradle of time where gears whir fugues to forgotten dreams..... the fog—a somnolent specter—drifts..... veiling the calculus of progress a manuscript etched by steam and soot. Hark The hiss of pistons proclaims a triumph—or perhaps a dirge— for we have harnessed Hephaestus’ fire yet grasped not his wisdom. Verne's visions chart the oceans of steam while Shelley weeps for monsters born in...

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