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Freien

LBC: Political Poetry

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Freien    106

Post poems you wrote/translated/read here. Just don't forget to mention the actual writer. 

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Freien    106

I am usually writing poems, but more of them are in Greek and don't have a political tone. However, I tried to write something to share with you. Here it is:

 

'I saw a pile of dead bodies

begging me for change,

I saw a number of impoverished children 

begging me to spare some money

 

Even if I had and gave,

it wouldn't make a difference,

Money is a part of the problem

not the solution

 

I walked and walked

trying to forget

I thought about God 

At least, He should be just

 

With that dose of opium 

I begun to hope

I imagine a new world

After death

Where justice would rule

Heaven I named it

 

Someone drawed a smile

on my alienated face,

It must have been an angel;

an angel I will become

 

I finally arrived at work

where I show something that would 

change my life

I saw the boss

And I also saw the worker

His name was Prometheus

He had been tortured

 

As we was lying dead 

he whispered to me

"Take this fire 

and burn the Gods"

 

I took a hammer instead 

and I carved a beautifully shaped R

on the boss' head

R is for Revolution

 

I sent the boss

on vacation to hell

This is how I found heaven

The only heaven that will ever be

The heaven on earth'

 

-Freien

 

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Caelapes    273

I may add something to this later, but for now I'll post a link to a special collection we feature in the Socialist Space Republic Library: the "La Pasionaria" poems. These were rediscovered late last year by Proletaire as we worked to archive portions of The Internationale's history.

La Pasionaria was the first Founder (now called Custodian) of The Internationale, but who quit the game after being deleted by moderators in November 2013. Since then, Custodians have included myself, Transemilia, and Proletaire.

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This is one of my own creation.

Gold coins drop and fall,
sinking fast into oil.
The people awake.
A man reaches in
with delicate, polished hands,
but he, then, is pushed.
Screams echo around
the tiny, bubbling vat.
Red merges with black.
The people look once, and move on,
for Greed has tasted
his own medicine, and
he will not return.

Edited by Arbitrary Humans
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Freien    106

^ Good one, Arbitrary Humans. So here is a poem from Katerina Gogou, the poetress of Exarcheia. I adore her poems. This is a translation and it is way better in Greek, but I believe every anarchist should know "I Defend Anarchy", so:

“Don’t you stop me. I am dreaming.
We lived centuries of injustice bent over.
Centuries of loneliness.
Now don’t. Don’t you stop me.
Now and here, for ever and everywhere.
I am dreaming freedom.
Though everyone’s
All-beautiful uniqueness
To reinstitute
The harmony of the universe.
Lets play. Knowledge is joy.
Its not school conscription.
I dream because I love.
Great dreams in the sky.
Workers with their own factories
Contributing to world chocolate making.
I dream because I KNOW and I CAN.
Banks give birth to “robbers”.
Prisons to “terrorists”.
Loneliness to “misfits”.
Products to “need”
Borders to armies.
All caused by property.
Violence gives birth to violence.
Don’t now. Don’t you stop me.
The time has come to reinstitute
the morally just as the ultimate praxis.
To make life into a poem.
And life into praxis.
It is a dream that I can I can I can
I love you
And you do not stop me nor am I dreaming. I live.
I reach my hands
To love to solidarity
To Freedom.
As many times as it takes all over again.
I defend ANARCHY."

-Katerina Gogou

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