Revolutionary Poetry – The Poetry Of J.P.

Into The Trenches

We are out gunned,
out skilled, and ill equipped
for this oppressive force,
but into the trenches

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Atlantis

I live in Atlantis,
sunk deep beneath the ocean waves;
hope is mere semantics,
for my people cannot be saved.

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What matters if we stop these bells,
—the toll and knell of guns and bombs,
the monstrous groan of metal wheels
the murmur of a boy gurgling on hope
before his breath is smothered out,
if we cannot quench the thirst of bureaucracy?

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Amending Our Heads Into The Sand

Never let ideas die,
not with a man

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Where do I begin

Where do I begin,
what words will convince you
that a knowledge of history
is not a conspiracy

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Build Back Better

Do not believe bankers, princes,
or governments; for all their wealth,
glittering gold, and grasping at control,

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Pablo Neruda Was No Mad King

Pablo Neruda oppression poem mustard gas

How could we
leave you at the shore,
or forget you
or the image of those little boats.

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The Mad King of Araucani

My vast kingdom, larger than France and Spain
led a crusade against conquest and genocide,
I did not have birth right, nor did I take it by sword,

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The Sword That Cuts Down Scepter and State

When among men will come the cost of deeds?
what mad pursuit of silk and gold is this
that we, we happy breed of men have let

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The Crib

I must have toddled as well as the best,
but being uneasy by my crib

Category Archives: Revolutionary Poetry

Into The Trenches

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Atlantis

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Tears to Pay

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Amending Our Heads Into The Sand

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Where do I begin

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Build Back Better

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Pablo Neruda Was No Mad King

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The Mad King of Araucani

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The Sword That Cuts Down Scepter and State

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The Crib

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