Category Archives: Poetry

A call to account

The drum of war thunders and thunders.
It calls: thrust iron into the living.
From every country
slave after slave
are thrown onto bayonet steel.
For the sake of what?
The earth shivers
hungry
and stripped.
Mankind is vapourised in a blood bath
only so
someone
somewhere
can get hold of Albania.
Human gangs bound in malice,
blow after blow strikes the world
only for
someone’s vessels
to pass without charge
through the Bosporus.
Soon
the world
won’t have a rib intact.
And its soul will be pulled out.
And trampled down
only for someone,
to lay
their hands on
Mesopotamia.
Why does
a boot
crush the Earth — fissured and rough?
What is above the battles’ sky –
Freedom?
God?
Money!
When will you stand to your full height,
you,
giving them your life?
When will you hurl a question to their faces:
Why are we fighting?

Vladimir Mayakovsky (1917)

Libertarium

By Odysseus

The reaper comes for us all,
And is feared by most,
But I welcome that eternal sleep,
For I grow weary of life.

I am already dead,
One who has nothing to lose,
What keeps me going?
I know not

Bar that cause,
To strive for liberty,
A noble deed can yet be performed,
Before I depart from this earth.

That idea
That single thought
At the back of my head
Telling me to carry on

To pick up the hammer of anarchy,
And smash the chains that confine me,
So I can walk down that road,
To liberty, equality and fraternity.

The death of liberty

By Anton

A soldier lies under a foreign sky
While back at home a politician on the right
Proclaims ‘for there country they did die’
The soldiers death becomes another banner under which to fight

The shovel of counter terrorism piles dirt upon the box
The nation’s flag covers the bone
As the war propaganda secretly mocks
Liberty is engraved on the stone

Communism and mankind

By George Volkov

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
John Donne

We communists are inquisitive beings. When someone is in poverty, yet others, but a mere street away, are in unimaginable luxury, we ask why.
Why do so few have so much, whilst we, the majority, who work for the rich and make society run, live off the scraps of the privileged elite? Solidarity is important among us, race will not separate us, nations will not divide us, because we are all human, we are all proletarians. While one passes a homeless man on the street, assuming that they are homeless through their own fault, a communist stops, gives them their change, and time permitting, has a conversation. To you, that loose change is worthless, to him, it is the difference between having a cup of tea, or having no tea. Capitalism has evolved. It has realised how strong we are united. This notion of nationalism, a pathetic ideology, has reduced otherwise good people into believing their country is better than another. Racism is another clever scheme the capitalists have used to divide us, but if one looks past the skin, the accent, the nationality, we all bleed red blood.
As communists, we want to end this system of exploitation. In socialism, you receive according to the labour you put in. No more will man be able to subsist from the labour of another. We communists do not want to improve our lives, but we want to improve the lives of all men.

Ernesto “che” Guevara:
“Man really attains the state of complete humanity when he produces, without being forced by physical need to sell himself as a commodity.”