U.S.S.R. and communism historical discussion.
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Post 23 Feb 2009, 21:40
Poem One:

As King of the hill,
I'll exert my will,
Let blood spill,
And drink my fill.

If I were king,
Few would sing.
As I'd bathe in the gore,
Of the poorest of poor.

Where once I was all,
Now I am none,
But the new rule will fall,
The restorations begun.

Poem Two:

When liberation day comes nearer,
The nature of the beast will be clearer.
But if we all stick together,
We'll withstand the weather.
And when we break the fetter,
Our lives will be better.
Post 23 Feb 2009, 23:54

I am the City I am the Lights
I am the hole that swallows life
Where there are walls with people locked up inside
20,000 or more abandoned to die

I am the towers that grew up high
Abandoned graves crying out to the sky
The bricks and mortar replace the dirt
Still entombed the living abandoned to die

After 100 years have past
Stones of the walls weren't meant to last
Children with no God are left behind
Motherless souls abandoned to die

by 171
Post 24 Feb 2009, 20:10
The Scab
"After God had finished the rattlesnake, the toad, and the vampire, he had some awful substance left with which he made a scab."

"A scab is a two-legged animal with a corkscrew soul, a water brain, a combination backbone of jelly and glue. Where others have hearts, he carries a tumor of rotten principles."

"When a scab comes down the street, men turn their backs and angels weep in heaven, and the devil shuts the gates of hell to keep him out."

"No man (or woman) has a right to scab so long as there is a pool of water to drown his carcass in, or a rope long enough to hang his body with. Judas was a gentleman compared with a scab. For betraying his master, he had character enough to hang himself." A scab has not.

"Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. Judas sold his Savior for thirty pieces of silver. Benedict Arnold sold his country for a promise of a commision in the british army." The scab sells his birthright, country, his wife, his children and his fellowmen for an unfulfilled promise from his employer.

Esau was a traitor to himself; Judas was a traitor to his God; Benedict Arnold was a traitor to his country; a scab is a traitor to his God, his country, his family and his class."

Jack London
Post 28 Feb 2009, 05:23
Roses are red violets are blue, in Soviet Russia poem writes YOU!
Post 28 Feb 2009, 06:43
That last one is actually much better than you'd think after the first reading.
Post 28 Feb 2009, 07:11
That last one is actually much better than you'd think after the first reading.

Which one is that?
Post 03 Mar 2009, 07:32
Poem 3:

I live in squalor,
On one or two dollar,
Though I grew with my hands,
The fruits of these lands.

Under one mans command,
Lies the whole of the land,
Hell, even the water,
Is owned by that rotter.

But what's this I see?
Can it really be?
The sun has turned red!
The boss is finally dead!
Post 14 May 2010, 05:31
Loved this.

Title: Marx's last words

Religion, is the opiate of the masses;
Karl Marx: ended the struggle of the classes.
He is enemy to many; and Buddha to some;
He would influence, many leaders to come.
The world he envisioned, almost came true;
From his thoughts, communism grew.
His ideas at the time, were very funny;
Imagine a world, without any money!
Marx was intelligent, and extremely wise;
Workers of the world, he told them to rise!
Slowly, his concepts began to spread;
His works, are among the most widely read.
Marx’s utopia, would never arrive;
Some, however, wanted to revive,
And put to the test, his socialist plan;
Only a century, would his legacy span.
An avid atheist; he was against theism;
A philosopher, who created socialism.
On his deathbed, when asked for a word;
He said a sentence, the last thing ever heard.
It was to get something, out of his endless strife;

“Last words are for people, who haven’t said anything in life"
Post 16 May 2010, 23:56
Which one is that?

The Soviet Russia one. Also the last one you posted was awesome as well. The one about the dead boss I mean.
Post 21 Jan 2011, 22:34
Is a sense of the moment in history;
is change everything
What should be changed;
is equality and freedom full;
It is being treated and treating others
as human beings;
is emancipated by ourselves
and with our own efforts;
is challenging powerful dominant forces
inside and outside
of social and national;
It is values that create
the price of any sacrifice;
is modesty, lack of interest,
altruism, solidarity and heroism;
is fight with boldness,
intelligence and realism;
is not never lie
not violate ethics;
is profound conviction
There is no force in the world
capable of crushing
the force of truth and ideas.
Revolution is unity, independence,
It is fighting for our dreams of Justice
for Cuba and the world
It is the basis of our patriotism
our socialism
and our internationalism.

Fidel Castro Ruz (1st of May 2000)

Above translated by Bing translator, original Spanish:
Es sentido del momento histórico;
es cambiar todo
lo que debe ser cambiado;
es igualdad y libertad plenas;
es ser tratado y tratar a los demás
como seres humanos;
es emanciparnos por nosotros mismos
y con nuestros propios esfuerzos;
es desafiar poderosas fuerzas dominantes
dentro y fuera
del ámbito social y nacional;
es defender valores en los que se cree
al precio de cualquier sacrificio;
es modestia, desinterés,
altruismo, solidaridad y heroísmo;
es luchar con audacia,
inteligencia y realismo;
es no mentir jamás
ni violar principios éticos;
es convicción profunda
de que no existe fuerza en el mundo
capaz de aplastar
la fuerza de la verdad y las ideas.
Revolución es unidad, es independencia,
es luchar por nuestros sueños de justicia
para Cuba y para el mundo,
que es la base de nuestro patriotismo,
nuestro socialismo
y nuestro internacionalismo.
Post 25 Jan 2011, 00:11
There once was a man from Hull,
Who thought his wheelie-bin was full,
So he had a kebab,
From an offended Arab,
The bin-men are noisy and any hole is goal.
Post 14 Sep 2011, 05:58
In Vietnam they slaughtered innocent babies
and then Bush went to war over maybies
this is freedom
and it falls in the form of a bomb

Could feed and house the poor but we spend money on nuclear arms
And grease policemen’s palms
Once they protected now they serve
They beat the unions and disconnect the secret prisoners optic nerve

The workers forgot to rise up and take this land
And make every C.E.O hang from the roof tops by their right hand
One day the banks will face the dragon of change
And then the bourgeois will rot due to their death from mange

No more blood for oil
As the oppressed toil
The churches tell you to help the poor
Whilst they keep their wealth and we all know they can do more

When the people realise they are the power
Victory will be won in that hour

Poem 2

Is Justice one man starving and another eating himself to death?

Is Justice a labourer earning just enough to keep a roof over his family’s head, whilst a celebrity with a pretty face could buy a nation?

Is justice the peaceful protesters being shot with rubber bullets?

Is justice being tear gassed for speaking your mind?
Is this the best way?

What is Justice?

Is justice over a million starving and over a million being spent on bombs?

Is Justice a word used to attack the poor nations?
Is Justice what the courts lack?

Is justice a war started to stop war?

Is justice schools crushing freedom of thought?

Is justice the corporations getting bail outs whilst the builder can’t feed his first son?
Is Justice coming soon?
Does justice start or end with a shotgun?

Is Justice coming soon?

Just hopefully not to a cinema near you.
Post 21 Sep 2011, 05:56
One of my favorite communist poets is Roque Dalton. Even if he's pretty "mainstream"

These are a couple of his more well-known poems. I'll supply the translations as best as I can. Hard to translate poetry accurately and I don't agree with the sites' conversions these come from.


Es bello ser comunista,
aunque cause muchos dolores de cabeza.
Y es que el dolor de cabeza de los comunistas
se supone histórico, es decir
que no cede ante las tabletas analgésicas
sino sólo ante la realización del Paraíso en la tierra.
Así es la cosa.
Bajo el capitalismo nos duele la cabeza
y nos arrancan la cabeza.
En la lucha por la Revolución la cabeza es una bomba de retardo.
En la construcción socialista planificamos el dolor de cabeza
lo cual no lo hace escasear, sino todo lo contrario.


It is beautiful to be Communist,
though it causes many headaches.
You see the headache of Communism
is supposed to be historical, that is to say
it does not yield to analgesic tablets
but only through the accomplishment of Earth Paradise.
Tell you what, it is the bomb!
Under Capitalism when our heads hurt
they just take our heads.
In the Revolutionary Struggle, the head is a retardation bomb.
In Socialist Construction we plan our headaches
which does not make them scarce, quite the opposite
Communism will be, among other things,
an aspirin as large as the sun


Como Tú

Por Roque Dalton

Yo como tú
amo el amor,
la vida,
el dulce encanto de las cosas
el paisaje celeste de los días de enero.

También mi sangre bulle
y río por los ojos
que han conocido el brote de las lágrimas.
Creo que el mundo es bello,
que la poesía es como el pan,
de todos.

Y que mis venas no terminan en mí,
sino en la sangre unánime
de los que luchan por la vida,
el amor,
las cosas,
el paisaje y el pan,
la poesía de todos.

Like You

Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-
blue landscape of January days.

And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.

And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.
Post 22 Sep 2011, 20:38

The rose's bud had blossomed out
Reaching out to touch the violet
The lily was waking up
And bending its head in the breeze

High in the clouds the lark
Was singing a chirruping hymn
While the joyful nightingale
With a gentle voice was saying-

"Be full of blossom, oh lovely land
Rejoice Iverians' country
And you oh Georgian, by studying
Bring joy to your motherland."

-SOSELO (Josef Stalin)
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