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Unfinished
2004-02-04, 11:41 AM #1
Need help finishing, and titling this political poem.

when the thick wool blue and red and white blindfold is passed my way, the rip will be torn to washington. the blue tears of the sons of chess pieces fall into the bowl along with the red blood of tan faced children blown up by the clever bombs, and the white spit of imperialism will find this bowl with guantanamo bay and the silence of 13 year olds and their shackles dragging across the buried dreams of gandhi and lincoln and dr. king and einstein. then we dust the walls for paintings of stalin and hitler and the ace of spades. bandages are re-meshed on the back of america and the tribes who owned no towers for white men to throw planes at and the ‘incorrect and savage’ thinking that earned them death. this bowl will be consumed with a cold drink of tear gas and a-bombs to wash down the cries. utensils will be purchased with the fields of free oil sold by terrorists, the terrorists we liberated. napkins made from the free green paper found in a shed in iraq. imaginary wmds and talibans miles from home will be served with lies. the signs of american terrorist protesters are hidden behind a blanket of patriotism and blue suit coats and ear-phones. welfare and tax benefits for the kkk and skinheads and baby rapists and mass murderers and fraud and the bloods and the crips and vice lords and government scandals. eyes close for 100 year wars in north africa and cuba and jerusalem and south america. women cant show their faces when cubans have none to show. weapons of mass destruction are somewhere, and that place may be here.

JediKirby

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"I was driving along listening to the radio, when Judas Priest comes on. It was 'You've got another thing coming.' All of a sudden, I enter 'VICE CITY RAMAGE MODE' and nearly ran some guy over"
- ]-[ellequin

[This message has been edited by jEDIkIRBY (edited February 04, 2004).]

[This message has been edited by jEDIkIRBY (edited February 04, 2004).]
ᵗʰᵉᵇˢᵍ๒ᵍᵐᵃᶥᶫ∙ᶜᵒᵐ
ᴸᶥᵛᵉ ᴼᵑ ᴬᵈᵃᵐ
2004-02-04, 11:48 AM #2
Very interesting poem. The usage of Red White & Blue does nothing for me, as I am not American... but I love the way you structured the poem to be a rant.

Prehaps, considering it's a poem, and an act of art, not a piece of general conversation, you should change wmd and kkk to the full words instead of anacronyms.(sp?)

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GhostOfYoda - General doer of stuff.
Massassi's Official Chatroom: irc.synirc.com #massassi
2004-02-04, 12:11 PM #3
GoY, in a PM, gave me a great idea for a title.

'The Hand-Written Weapon of Mass Distruction'

The way that sounds, I may need a couple parts...?

JediKirby

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"I was driving along listening to the radio, when Judas Priest comes on. It was 'You've got another thing coming.' All of a sudden, I enter 'VICE CITY RAMAGE MODE' and nearly ran some guy over"
- ]-[ellequin
ᵗʰᵉᵇˢᵍ๒ᵍᵐᵃᶥᶫ∙ᶜᵒᵐ
ᴸᶥᵛᵉ ᴼᵑ ᴬᵈᵃᵐ
2004-02-04, 12:33 PM #4
Nice man, nice, it makes you think about the world... alot.

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Member of the Minneassian Council
2004-02-04, 1:22 PM #5
Quote:
<font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by jEDIkIRBY:
Need help finishing, and titling this political poem.

when the thick wool blue and red and white blindfold is passed my way, the rip will be torn to washington. the blue tears of the sons of chess pieces fall into the bowl along with the red blood of tan faced children blown up by the clever bombs, and the white spit of imperialism will find this bowl with guantanamo bay and the silence of 13 year olds and their shackles dragging across the buried dreams of gandhi and lincoln and dr. king and einstein. then we dust the walls for paintings of stalin and hitler and the ace of spades. bandages are re-meshed on the back of america and the tribes who owned no towers for white men to throw planes at and the ‘incorrect and savage’ thinking that earned them death. this bowl will be consumed with a cold drink of tear gas and a-bombs to wash down the cries. utensils will be purchased with the fields of free oil sold by terrorists, the terrorists we liberated. napkins made from the free green paper found in a shed in iraq. imaginary wmds and talibans miles from home will be served with lies. the signs of american terrorist protesters are hidden behind a blanket of patriotism and blue suit coats and ear-phones. welfare and tax benefits for the kkk and skinheads and baby rapists and mass murderers and fraud and the bloods and the crips and vice lords and government scandals. eyes close for 100 year wars in north africa and cuba and jerusalem and south america. women cant show their faces when cubans have none to show. weapons of mass destruction are somewhere, and that place may be here.

JediKirby

</font>


how soon before writing this had you listened to "Where is the Love?"

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flirbnic has a signature
"i've seen alot of kids (i'm 35) come on here and ask for advice about girls. look at potato here. he makes a tape and sings to a girl. some girls will laugh in your face, some behind your back and then some might love you for it. potato is a man. a man with a girl. -Darth Evad
2004-02-04, 1:25 PM #6
... I've heard that song before, and the only similarities I can imagine is 'Bloods and Crips' but the two go hand and hand.. so... yeah.

JediKirby

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"I was driving along listening to the radio, when Judas Priest comes on. It was 'You've got another thing coming.' All of a sudden, I enter 'VICE CITY RAMAGE MODE' and nearly ran some guy over"
- ]-[ellequin
ᵗʰᵉᵇˢᵍ๒ᵍᵐᵃᶥᶫ∙ᶜᵒᵐ
ᴸᶥᵛᵉ ᴼᵑ ᴬᵈᵃᵐ
2004-02-04, 5:07 PM #7
Oh snap. I didn't think it was THAT good of a poem until I read the last sentence and then it all clicked together so amazingly that it's... amazing.

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"The Oracle told me I would die with my boots on. I've worn tennis shoes ever since." - Axis
2004-02-05, 5:06 AM #8
An interesting poem from the tin-foil hat people. Sometimes you guys just aren't heard or represented.

Wait...

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Ω of 14
New! Fun removed by Vinny :[
2004-02-05, 5:27 AM #9
I'm sure that this is a rough draft of sorts, but it's very difficult to read due to the lack of capitalization. It's an interesting piece, and although much of it is exaggerated, there are many truths as well. The final sentence is more of a shock statement than a fact, but I'm sure that's what you were going for. Very 1960-ish.

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http://www.napalmdeathsquad.com
2004-02-05, 10:54 AM #10
Terribly angsty and it sounds like it's based on more than a few faulty premises. It reminds me of another poem, one that I of course didn't write:

Quote:
<font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">There's nothing wrong with Capitalism
There's nothing wrong with free enterprise
Don't try to make me feel guilty
I'm so tired of hearing you cry

There's nothing wrong with making some profit
If you ask me I'll say it's just fine
There's nothing wrong with wanting to live nice
I'm so tired of hearing you whine
About the revolution
Bringin' down the rich
When was the last time you dug a ditch, baby!

If it ain't one thing
Then it's the other
Any cause that crosses your path
Your heart bleeds for anyone's brother
I've got to tell you you're a pain in the ***

You criticize with plenty of vigor
You rationalize everything that you do
With catchy phrases and heavy quotations
And everybody is crazy but you

You're just a middle class, socialist brat
From a suburban family and you never really had to work
And you tell me that we've got to get back
To the struggling masses (whoever they are)
You talk, talk, talk about suffering and pain
Your mouth is bigger than your entire brain
What the hell do you know about suffering and pain
</font>
A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy.

A major source of objection to a free economy is precisely that it gives people what they want instead of what a particular group thinks they ought to want. Underlying most arguments against the free market is a lack of belief in freedom itself.

art
2004-02-05, 11:00 AM #11
my working theory is that everyone is crazy and just getting worse (with the corollary that most are stupid and just getting worse)

that is, everyone is crazy about some stuff and most are stupid about some stuff, and they just get worse.
2004-02-05, 11:42 AM #12
Really really trite. There may be nothing new under the sun, but that doesn't mean you can get away with recycling things that have been said a thousand times in more eloquent and creative ways.

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Dark, Darker, Darko

RIP Madaventor: God bless you.
I live in the weak, and the wounded.

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