elgen
Freedom, poetry, Politics, Revolution, Spain, Uncategorized

Black Mass

I sense no soul in this rabble

just fearful alchemy

a hum of devilish trouble

ghoulish ignonminy

’tis no people’s celebration

this fascist akelarre

just a rueful abnegation

of what we’re fighting for

and, lo,

a ghastly chill is in the air—

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priestf
anarchism, Atheism, Catholicism, Death, poetry, Religion, Socialism, Spain, Uncategorized

Heretic’s Benediction

Priests bless the perversions of the fascists

While condemning the sharing of the land

but no foul curate will thwart our demand

we have no fear of holy chauvinists

 

Mass is held with the flesh of socialists

While Fathers absolve the barbarous bands

The sign of the cross made with bloody hands

Having sold their souls to Nationalists

 

We drink the pure water of righteousness

Boorish Priests are drunk on the holy blood

We sup as one on the bread of blitheness

While like cows with their host they chew the cud

they make a desert of faith with their weakness

Lo, and heed; after us will come the flood

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cataloniagirl
Feminism, Freedom, poetry, Politics, Spain, Uncategorized, War, We The People

The Partisan

Her smile inspires her fellow partisans and her community

She throws caution to the wind

so as to watch their spirits soar

When Fascists questioned her commitment

she let her carbine counterclaim

She looks out over Barcelona

her city

From the top of the highest tower

survaying a land riven by

passions and politics

But beyond this tumultuous horizon

there is a glint of light

beginning to peak through

the gathered clouds

and so she smiles

and goes about her revolution

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spchist
anarchism, poetry, Revolution, Sonnet, Spain, Uncategorized, We The People, Writing

The Onyx and Litarge

We can not jeopardize our only charge

We resolve to fly the peasants banner

Damned for our belief and strident manner

We partisans prevail beyond the marge

 

The land inspires the onyx and litarge

Which will forever be the People’s streamer

Aragon shall be its own redeemer

With fate as its commitment to discharge

 

We warriors whose hearts beat in harmony

Unfurl the flag and watch the colors soar

Caballeros of truth and anarchy

Avenge the lamentations of the poor

Strive onward contra fascist tyranny

And banish their deceit forevermore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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campesinos
anarchism, art, Europe, poetry, Rights, Spain, We The People, Writing

The Land Is Yours

Workers,  artists, the land is yours

Fascists have no claim on it

Farmers, mothers, the land is yours

Stalinists have no stake in it

 

The land feeds you, it shelters you

Capitalists will pillage it

The land conceived you, it birthed you

Priests will diseffect you from it

 

Swains, partisans, the land is yours

Fatalists have no love for it

Songstresses, bards, the land is yours

Puritans will sanitize it

 

The land inspires you, delights you

The abject will denigrate it

The land endows you, renews you

The callous will despoil it

 

The land is yours

Will you fight for it?

 

 

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spainfarmer
anarchism, art, Love, Nations, Politics, Spain, Uncategorized

The Cream of Aragon

Her farmers hands deep in the earth

gravid with hale prosperity

coaxing forth a flourishing worth

to furnish her community

 

her humble sweat a palliative

to dulcify her burning brow

her labor is the love she lives

and to her comrades she’ll endow

 

the sun will set before she’s done

but with evening comes release

a night of humor, dance, and fun

with the cream of the Argonese

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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spdurruticolumn
anarchism, poetry, Uncategorized

Red Bird

I see where the red bird flew

into the vast verboten blue

over the snares and telephone wires

free towards tomorrows dawn

 

adobe homes massed below

comrades huddle in the glow

of a warm insurgent fire

foretime near, tomorrow gone

 

from the dust a dream took wing

buoyant misbegotten thing

kept aloft by the ire

of heroic Aragon

 

 

 

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