/lit/ - Literature

Gays And Antifreeze
by Sean M. Cuneo

I am democratic,
Born to be free,
Don't think of us as hippies,
Or Down your throat will go ANTIFREEZE!!!
Cheney's eyes are green,
Bush's are Dazed,
When I look at his website,
I think to myself, "What does he have against gays?"

When that I was a little tiny boy,
Me daddy said to me,
’The time has come, me bonny bonny bairn
To learn your ABC’.

Now daddy was a Lodge Chairman
In the coalfields of the Tyne,
And that ABC was different
From the Enid Blyton kind.

He sang;

A is for Alienation that made me the man that I am
and B’s for the Boss, who’s a bastard, a bourgeois who don’t give a damn.
C is for Capitalism, the boss’s reactionary creed,
and D’s for Dictatorship, laddie, but the best proletarian breed.

E is for Exploitation, that the workers have suffered so long;
and F is for old Ludwig Feuerbach, the first one to see it was wrong.

G is for all Gerrymanderers, like Lord Muck and Sir Whatsisname,
and H is the Hell that they’ll go to, when the workers have kindled the flame.

I is for Imperialism, and America’s kind is the worst,
and J is for sweet Jingoism, that the Tories all think of first.

K is for good old Keir Hardie, who fought out the working class fight
and L is for Vladimir Lenin, who showed him the Left was all right.

M is of course for Karl Marx, the daddy and the mammy of them all,
and N is for Nationalisation, without it we’d crumble and fall.

O is for Overproduction that capitalist economy brings,
and P is for Private Property, the greatest of all of the sins.

Q is for the Quid pro quo, that we’ll deal out so well and so soon,
when R for Revolution is shouted and the Red Flag becomes the top tune.

S is for sad Stalinism, that gave us all such a bad name,
and T is for Trotsky the hero, who had to take all of the blame.

U’s for the Union of workers, the Union will stand to the end,
and V is for Vodka, yes, Vodka, the one drink that don’t bring the bends.

W is for all Willing workers, and that’s where the memory fades,
for X, Y and Z, me dear daddy said, will be written on the street barricades.

>>3405081
But now that I’m not a little tiny boy,
Me daddy says to me,
’Please try to forget the things I said,
Especially the ABC.’

For daddy’s no longer a Union man,
And he’s had to change his plea.
His alphabet is different now,
Since they made him a Labour MP.

Alex Glasgow
(1935 - 2001)

"I' gots a rumbly in my tumbly
and it's rumblin for bolgna!
Deep fried batter dipped,
ass-holed and piggy lipped
You're privileged oppression
always tryin to be messin
with my need for processed meat
you think you're the elite
with your raw food vegan-ism
I'd rather eat some jizm
as long as its deep-fried
with garlic butter on the side.

rotting filth mucus is exploding out of me
FUCK YOU DON'T OPPRESS ME
ripping hemorrhoids ready for rape
FUCK YOU PATRIARCHY

This woman is walking poetry, also she is a community leader and organizer. Hot.

>>3405073
>>3405075
>>3405084
>>3405093

glorious.

launch my mushrooms now!
her cavity is willing
stretched by birth of zeppelin
moist walls ferment, jitter
black goo cement my seed
will my mushrooms grow?
mushroom people

>>3405106

Wow, that entitlement...

Jewish
Evil
Won't
Stop

>>3405106
>hello yes this is tumblr
>i would like to order one paradoxical double-standard sandwich, please
>would you like it to be smeared with lard and feminism?

>>3405165
so profoundly powerful.

fuck
niggersand
sandniggers

Poetry,
ehh,
"I got feelz LOOK at Mah ARTS"

please someone take these clowns away, and give us some iambic pentameter and symbolism, some rhyme and reason, some story and symmetry, some rhythm and soul.
Some Dickinson and Keats.

i am vibrant diversity
transformative transgression
deconstruct the white identity
forward to hope and progress
maximum vibrant

A dark moon
Blood on the floor
The arbiter of my depression
Hammer raised
Eyes with contempt
Get a load of this edgy ass teenage nigger

Sings along a beautiful voice
It carries itself in the wind to your door
Seeping into your senses with a cold so dull
Finding it's way inside your bones
Aching muscles dare to start up
A wrinkled stare so odd so old
Sing along oh beautiful voice
It will take these aching bones
Away, away so long
It's time for me to go, with the wind
Along the tunes of time itself
Find the peace, and sing along

my vagina crows
give me freedom
or
mile after mile
of cock carousel
is that so bad?

oh, stop this holocaust
persecuted, electrocuted
the whip cracks open my skull
i am a white womyn
why must they persecute me so

so brave and beutiful gurlzzz i literary cryed inside GO GIRLZ U ROK!1!!!111

a rain
that drowns but does not nourish
such is life
under the current socioeconomic conditions
s a l v a t i o n

I just get a little too exited.
My thumb nail snags on a guitar string,
Low E.
I can see meaty gristle and clear liquid as it hangs off.
There are two distinct camps where I am now;
-Tent A: New aged bohemians, nature growing first,
the peace and tranquillity of the mushroom forest.
-Tent B: The industrial city urbanists. Sweaty warehouse raves,
drugs, sex, throbbing bass that can shatter teeth.
My finger leaves white blood cells on my jeans and t-shirt,
a red hue streaks diagonal across my chest.
I'm both really. I don't want to pick sides.
Why choose one when the the allure of both,
is just as seductive to my hedonistic sensibilities?
I'm filling the sink with cold water.
Beneath the surface my thumb looks tiny, my hand looks pale.
I've been told that I am the problem, I'm to blame.
I'm the urban jungle snared by concrete decay.
I'm the free-wheeling idealist with an uncertain future.
I clench the nail between my front teeth and pull my head back
There's a squelching sound as it rips free.

All this self-mockery is clearly an attempt to fill the hole where your sincerity used to be. Where it went might be a frightening question but it's better answered than ignored and veneered with this narcissistic sort of shit

>>3408865
said the patriarch, expecting to stem the flow
but womyn know better
patriarch!
we know your tricks!
VAGINA LIBERATION SQUAD XXXTREME 3000

>>3408683
Fucking wonderful.

>>3408611
oh, stop this holocaust
persecuted, electrocuted
the whip cracks open my skull
i am a white womyn
why must they persecute me so

repeated bcuz so true. we must stay strong white womyn sistyrs. we're oppressed.

o god u cant b srs?

Bump

Beat ... beat ...

The heart beats

Alone.

Alone again...

The sexy spine curves upward

Wishing to command the brain

The brain is alone

Locked up in a psych ward

It waits for pills

The sexy spine waits for no one...

The penis engorges with blood.

Pointing the way...

To ecstasy...

Can't it wait...

No...

It comes first...

And later...

Tomorrow...

Is my friend.

My sexy friend.

My spine curves

Knowing it is the future...

My friend.

It is not the brain.

The untapped organ, my friend

Is that sexy spine of yours

Let it curve again...

tomorrow's eat
(c) 2013 Ang3l Rozenberg

i had a dream of a better, more progressive time
my cellar was ready for the occasion
rows upon rows of mason jars
of fermented germanic abortions
stewed in black single mother piss
delicacies to be shared with friends and loved ones
spread the wealth, do enjoy
i love you
here
have a hand
have a hand, friend

>>3409885
I cried. So beautiful. <3

Yes, here we go again
Give you more, nothing lesser
Back on the mic, it's the anti-depressor
Ad-Rock--no pressure--yes, we need this
The best is yet to come and, yes, believe this

Leggo my Eggo while I flex my ego
Sip on Prosecco, dressed up tuxedo
Sipping coffee, playing Keno in the casino
Want a lucky number, ask Mike Dino

I burn the competition like a flamethrower
My rhymes, they age like wine as I get older
I'm getting bolder, competition is wanin'
I got the ball and I see the lane and

Armed insurrection, popular election
Get paid every year like tax collection
Hear my perfection, rotary connection
Taking MCs down by lethal rap injection

I'm like an ornithologist when I get pissed
You must have drank a Fizzy-Lifting Drink and you got lifted
And sifted, I'm just riffin'
And when I catch MCs, it's time for wing-clipping

I fly like a hawk, or better yet an eagle
A seagull, I sniff suckers out like a beagle
My ego is off and running and gone
Cause I'm about the best and if you fess, well, that's wrong

Pass me the scalpel, I'll make an incision
I'll cut off the part of your brain that does the bitchin'
Put it in formaldehyde and put it on the shelf
And you can show it to your friends and say, "That's my old self"

Can't do me nutin', can't tell me nada
Don't bug me now because I'm doing the lambada (bada!)
The forbidden dance (wha!)
Here's my chance
To make romance in my B-boy stance
What do you think, /lit/