GRAND SPECTACLE

(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)

250 Protesters Arrested, Including Amy Goodman


Looking from the opposite side of this other world
Wondering what it is that they must truly think of us

The mind awakens to their jarring ovation
And thoughts swoop in like dark winged beasts

I see them calling, “God damns you to hell!”

They shouldn’t tell peacekeepers that their voices can’t soar
They shouldn’t try breaking those who see the ugliness of their fears
They shouldn’t damn an outstretched hand while offering raging teeth
in exchange
And smile as they bring such reckless blades to neck
Because we will not kneel down and wait

Lions charging across the plains
Feel their razor claws as they seek the fearful ground
And thrusting wild boars come crashing
A victim’s quivering lips that have turned their hearts pale
Of cradling fear held up like a frozen hand

And their god will return to find them this way

© 2008 mrp/tpm

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I AM SPARTACUS

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(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)

I'm (or I am) Spartacus! is the catchphrase from the film Spartacus.
A famous scene of the movie has the recaptured slaves being asked to point out which one of them is Spartacus in exchange for leniency. Instead, they each proclaim themselves to be Spartacus and thus share his fate. A similar scene or event is sometimes called a Spartacus moment in reference to this particular scene.

Spartacus: And maybe there's no peace in this world, for us or for anyone else, I don't know. But I do know that, as long as we live, we must remain true to ourselves.

We had gone from being free to wallowing in the soft oppression of truth.

It was quiet at first; they’d shelled them
and we into submission, chained them
and we to the oppressive floor of callous cruelty
in blood-spattered wordless dungeons
where screams renounced their living.

Time had come...and
It shattered open the heavily breathing door
that hid the marriage of empire and religion.

Cloaked in the counterfeit-king’s fury
we’d forgotten his deliberations,
forgotten kingdom’s bloody thrust…
and this; I am Spartacus!

Do not permit your scream go quiet in the ground…

Spartacus: When a free man dies, he loses the pleasure of life. A slave loses his pain. Death is the only freedom a slave knows. That's why he's not afraid of it. That's why we'll win.

Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman

Driftglass is Spartacus
Blue Gal is Spartacus
thepoetryman is Spartacus
Are you?

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SILENCE ME

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(A Poetic Justice Collage)

Liberals' attempts to silence me by Melanie Morgan
Posted: January 12, 20071:00 a.m. Eastern
The week that was provided interesting examples of how desperate and pathetic liberals have become.
Their lust for political power, after having suffered one election defeat after another, has become so great that they don't seem to be trying too hard to hide the ugly aspects of liberalism. Now that they've won control of Congress, liberals feel emboldened to reveal their true selves.

There is no silence in this; your bitter flesh of hatred,
So you needn’t be troubled, Melanie.
There is no silence in the tooth of horror,
Only bottomless gnashing and writhing
As your noisy maw yammers its own execution.

Those that came before you had a cunning beyond.
They hunted the succulent jade of world peace
While you, in a shadowy globe, conceive defeat
At its charitable hand and see war as stillness;
Peace within your sinister and ailing abhorrence.

There is no silence in this; your bitter flesh of hatred.

You’ve fed upon the flavor of this warring infection
Until your tongue tastes sweet honey, not death.
You cannot be silenced with such dreary senses.
You cannot be hushed or shut up. Your infection
Is too great for those who’ve devoured your birth.

Yours is the vigor of the beast that roots upward
Collapsing the soil which would bring you truth.
Peace is the force of the boulder upon your tusk
As you root `round within yourself for nourishment
Digging past the rancid ooze of hypocrisy and murder.

There is no silence in this; your bitter flesh of hatred
Writhing deep in the festering corpse of your silence.

Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman

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