#rebellion poetry

[amicus-noctis]

[poetessgio]

last night I had a poem looking pretty in my mind words dancing all around faster than I would type well I didn't even get up from bed I was actually too tired to do that didn't type anything and didn't write fell asleep and lost those rhymes I just feel very weird about it sometimes like a job I want to quit from and hide leave all the creativity and madness behind make a coffee, bake some bread: I will be fine after all our employers expect machines and drones while big tech and pharma lick each other to the bones our meat in their plates— please, take me home! where time died and the clock of man is gone

but I will always come back to it, you see it's not an escape, it's not even a mystery perhaps my misery, or maybe my ordinary soul, heart, mind— breaking— free!

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[grimfox]

history repeats

i wonder

how many of us there could be

who don't really think that tomorrow will see any

better than all of the days that have been.

how many of us can't pretend?

how many of us are just

waiting for something

that we do not know?

do we go into

nothing?

could someone please show us

confronting unknowns

in triumphantly prosaic motions? i'm

choking down hope in my throat.

could awfulness start to implode?

the fuck,

i don't know,

it's disgusting.

our species is wanting.

the sum speaks in

torrid salvos,

and the summary stuns with its ugly.

we've fucked up our upswing.

still chugging corruption,

we thus speak like monkeys.

our struggles are

balanceless,

trust me.

we're thrust into pus, shit, and blood

seeping down

through our cuts to infect all of us,

all-surrounding,

the bustling crowds

shrieking,

"how can we drown out the fuss?"

we must seek a grounding,

a trust.

we must

speak around all the bluffs.

we must

see the proud, and the lust,

sweeping 'round

all the crumbs in the dust.

we must

be the mouths,

be the guts.

the duty of good is not found

in the bluster erupting

from justified hatred,

the rapes,

and the wastes they create,

or the bounties they muster.

we must

reconfound all the Great.

erase all accounts of their luster,

rebuff all surrounding acclaim.

our nation was never a

saint.

and the hour is drawing so late.

the power has found out we

haven't been cowed,

but rebound.

we remain.

let cowardice fall

out of favor, in shame.

empowered to claim back

our name.

we are now,

we are here,

we're the same.

we must

be the love,

be the change.

[burningvelvet]

"I may stand alone, but would not change my free thoughts for a throne."

— Lord Byron, Don Juan (1823)

[ramblebrambleamble]

A blaze of stars to burn the heavens down;

Think; sharp-edged embers drifting like fireflies in the air, as the gods fall screaming

From

The

Sky.

Think; blessings undone along with the curses;

The dead rising as the living fall.

Think; and then, think of nothing. And then, think no more.

(Did you think that you would be spared?)

[niftukkun]

dandelions for anarchy, rebellion, and a stubbornness like no other

[revolutionistarchives]

Ich finde es lächerlich, wenn man sagt, dass Radikalismus nichts bringt. Als ob wir nicht gesehen haben, was Radikalität in der Geschichte erreicht hat. Radikalismus, Revolutionen  und Willensstärke sind der einzige Grund, warum wir als Menschen so weit gekommen sind. Hätte es keine Revolutionen und Kämpfe  gegeben, wären wir immer noch unterdrückt und versklavt. Radikale Ideen haben uns immer schon gerettet. Sie sind es, die uns vorantreiben und den Glauben geben, alles schaffen zu können. Eine bessere Welt zu schaffen. Die Konservativen und der Staat möchten dies nicht, nur sehen die Konservativen nicht, dass sie sich selbst im Weg stehen. Revolutionen sind das, was wir leben, daraus entstehen Glaube,  Solidarität und  Verbindungen. Revolutionen nicht im Sinne von gewalt und Chaos, sondern im Sinne von Liebe und Zusammenhalt. Das ist, was wir Menschen brauchen. Das ist, wonach wir Menschen uns sehnen und uns überhaupt in radikale Ideen stürzen. Es sind immer Verzweiflung und Hass, die sich immer gegenseitig bekämpfen und nicht realisieren, dass diese nur Vorstufen der Liebe sind. Hass und Liebe unterscheiden sich nicht, wie die Menschen es immer denken, sie sind sich sehr ähnlich, da diese beiden Gefühle aus einem Ort der Verletzlichkeit kommen; das ist alles, was diese Menschen sind. Sie realisieren vor lauter Hass nicht, dass sie sich hoffnungslos nach Liebe sehnen. Die Liebenden müssen den wachsenden Hass, den sie fühlen, immer loswerden und sich erinnern, warum sie auf der Seite der Liebe sind. Rebellion ist die Natur des Menschen und wir sollten sie fördern und perfektionieren, tun wir dies, könnten wir humanitäre Ziele setzen und erreichen. Radikal ist der Mensch, denn alles ist politisch und Neutralität existiert nicht.

[learia-in-the-stars]

Rebellion

You taught me to be strong You taught me to be kind Patient, understanding, 'normal' All I was taught by you But you never taught me How to Fall

Was this how Lucifer felt Pushed for wanting more? Or how Icarus felt When his hubris failed him? Either story Ending in a Fall

Perhaps my Fall is different? Fore, when I fell My skin was not ablaze My wings did not turn to tar My mind did not twist And my heart kept a beat

No, my Fall was soft It felt of a warm hug And smelt of Earth My Fall was easy Which makes me wonder How this could ever be wrong?

-R.L.B

[readingfolklore]

"remember what you must do when they devalue you, when they think your softness is your weakness, when they treat your kindness like it is their advantage.

you awaken every dragon, every wolf, every monster that sleeps inside of you and you remind them of what hell looks like when it wears the skin of a gentle human."

- nikita gill, wild embers: poems of rebellion, fire and beauty.

[amicus-noctis]

[foxy-knowledgeseeker]

I am still reeling over how Ms. Suzanne Collins did THIS:

and did THIS:

and THIS:

and THIS:

and THIS:

[lifeinpoetry]

If I were God, one night I would order the angels to boil the water of Heaven’s river in the furnace of Hell and, burning torch in hand, to drive the flock of pious ones out of the green debauched pasture of Heaven

— Forough Farrokhzad, from "God’s Rebellion/عصیان خدا," Let Us Believe in the Beginning of the Cold Season

[littlewhispersmokesigns]

sometimesi hate poetry workshop i wish sometimes that my feedback could be "I think you should change your Major"

[ghosttotheparty]

king steve and the freak

[grimfox]

battlecry

we all have a right to defend our life,

right? so when we see leaders all fueling the strife

and the state of the union's a beaten wife

and our children are targets for gun barrel sights

do we not stand and fight?

when the death of our planet comes closer each night?

when our private lives are haunted by patent lies

and suicide seems like something bright?

when corporate corpses destroy what we need for life

and the tears and cries of patient's dying eyes

become the blood and beats of our battlecry?

why should i die for this story i didn't write?

for spite? no, i refuse, i recant this whole rite.

it's now or never, stand and fight,

die,

or write.

[cyberpunkonline]

Poetry in the Pulse of Neon: The Role of Verse in Cyberpunk Media

Racing through the realm of digital entertainment, poetry might seem like an unanticipated passenger aboard the high-speed, neon-lit trains of cyberpunk. Yet, in this clashing world, the true allure comes alive. While Raz has already delved into the connection between poetry and video games, this piece dives into the sprawling, electrified streets of cyberpunk media.

Poetry Amidst the Techno-Chaos Cyberpunk, known for its grungy cityscapes, bleeding-edge tech, and rebellious undercurrents, surprisingly, pulses with a human beat. This genre, teeming with futuristic anomalies, brings poetry into its fold, presenting an emotional counterpoint to the mechanical heartbeats. Think of William Gibson's "Neuromancer", where the prose itself often takes on a poetic rhythm, illustrating the dance between man, machine, and soul.

The Resonance of Rhyme in Rebellion Rebellion is a core theme in cyberpunk—whether it's battling authoritarian overlords, defying mega-corporations, or challenging one's own augmented reality. Poetry, a time-honored voice of dissent, naturally finds its niche here. Recall the cryptic poems in Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner," derived from William Blake's "Songs of Innocence and Experience", they set the tone for the film's exploration of humanity and artificial life.

Emotional Catharsis in the Digital Age Digging deep into the psyche of cyberpunk reveals a contemplation on identity, morality, and the essence of humanity. Amidst the techno-jargon and virtual vistas, it's the emotional crux that anchors the tales. The poetic soliloquies of the protagonist in Neal Stephenson's "Snow Crash" offer moments of introspection, bringing to light the character's internal battles amidst external chaos.

An Unlikely Pair The merging of poetry and cyberpunk seems incongruous at first glance. While poetry evokes a sense of timeless emotion, cyberpunk thrusts us into a potentially dystopian tech-fueled reality. However, their combined power is undeniable. For instance, in Richard K. Morgan's "Altered Carbon", poetic reflections interspersed within the narrative amplify the story's exploration of life, death, and what it truly means to be human.

Conclusion As cyberpunk's digital universe flickers with neon and buzzes with electric life, the soft echoes of poetic verse offer a grounding touch. Far from mere ornamentation, poetry in cyberpunk serves as a bridge, connecting the vast digital expanse with the enduring human soul. In a world increasingly interfaced with tech, perhaps it's the poetic word that keeps our human essence alive and pulsating.

- REV1