ANGEr

is a
gIFt
Written by:
BJ Murphy
 FOXDIE PRODUCTIONS
An Independent Writing & Art Company
128 Mongas Lane
Dobson, NC 27017
Copyright © 2010 by BJ Murphy
Cover design by BJ Murphy for Foxdie Productions
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this
book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and
retrieval system, without the written permission of the
author, except where permitted by law. For information or
permission contact:
BJ Murphy, williamjackmurphy@gmail.com
This book was set in Times New Roman & HVD Peace
Font.
ISBN: 978-1450572804
Printed in the United States of America
 Contents

Anger is a Gift Pt. 1 ........................................................ 13

Freedom ................................................................................. 14
Justify, I That Cry .................................................................... 16
I’ve Got To Know .................................................................... 17
No Shelter For You ................................................................. 19
Carlo Giuliani .......................................................................... 20
Blasphemy .............................................................................. 21
Happy Genocide ..................................................................... 22
Perish What You Cherish........................................................ 24
One Nation’s Damnation ....................................................... 25
Poly-Tics ................................................................................. 26
A Philosophical War ............................................................... 27
Plead the Second ................................................................... 30
New World Order ................................................................... 31
Into The Wild.......................................................................... 33
Coup-d’ehagen ....................................................................... 35
Bailout the Workers ............................................................... 37
Kleptomaniacs ........................................................................ 39
O.I.L. ....................................................................................... 40
No Excuses ............................................................................. 41
Rebel in the Mind................................................................... 43
Guerrillas On The Streets ....................................................... 46
 God Is Not Coming ................................................................. 47
The Jumping Bull Fraud .......................................................... 49
The River ................................................................................ 52
Blind Faith .............................................................................. 53
Colombian Coke ..................................................................... 54
TeVo the Revo!....................................................................... 55
Fee to be Free ........................................................................ 57
Aired Live From Death Row ................................................... 59
Third World Is Over You ......................................................... 61
Self-Righteous Suicide ............................................................ 63
Fight Back!.............................................................................. 66
Kill The Fed, Or You Are Dead ................................................ 68
Destiny ................................................................................... 70
Sell Out ................................................................................... 73
Know Your Enemy .................................................................. 75
Systematically Hidden ............................................................ 77
A War-Torn Nation ................................................................. 80
Third World’s Shaking ............................................................ 81
I’m a Radical, Not a Fundamental .......................................... 83
Imprisoned Slaves .................................................................. 86
First World Guerrilla............................................................... 87
Anger is a Gift ......................................................................... 88
Anger is a Gift Pt. 2 ...................................................... 101
The Ghetto Class .................................................................. 102
Fight Until I Die......................................................................... 103
Can You Hear the Battle Drums? ......................................... 104
Kyrgyzstan ............................................................................ 105
Slaves On A Farm ................................................................. 107
Systematic Paranoia ............................................................. 108
Remember the Fight ............................................................ 109
Capital .................................................................................. 110
The Communist Revolution.................................................. 111
The Call................................................................................. 114
Debate or Masturbate ......................................................... 115
Women Deserve a Voice ...................................................... 117
Treasonous Words ............................................................... 118
Let’s Free Palestine .............................................................. 120
Don’t Fuck With Us .............................................................. 122
Peace in the Middle East...................................................... 123
Still in the Ghetto ................................................................. 124
Nam ...................................................................................... 125
We’re On The Killer’s Seat ................................................... 127
No Time ................................................................................ 128
A Daily Life............................................................................ 129
Get Ready! ........................................................................... 131
Let’s Get Organized .............................................................. 132
Start Swinging ...................................................................... 133
Like Vietnam ........................................................................ 134
Acropolis .............................................................................. 135
Equalize & Mobilize.............................................................. 137
The Capitalist Dream ............................................................ 138
International Solidarity ........................................................ 139
Who’s the Terrorist? ............................................................ 140
The Proletarian Struggle ...................................................... 141
Some Of Us........................................................................... 142
Die Standing Up ................................................................... 143
A Harper’s Ferry Reunion ..................................................... 145
You Were a Terrorist Too ..................................................... 146
We Are Guerrillas ................................................................. 147
This Is How We Dance.......................................................... 148
The People’s Experiment ..................................................... 149
The Cheonan Incident .......................................................... 150
Fuck Meat, Be Healthy ......................................................... 151
Can You Do What’s Right? ................................................... 152
You Can’t Keep Up ............................................................... 156
The ABC’s of Revolution ....................................................... 157
You Are the Disease ............................................................. 159
A New Kind of Worker’s Strike ............................................. 161
This Is For All My People ...................................................... 162
Is This A Rap Battle? ............................................................. 163
Paper Tigers ......................................................................... 164
The Shackles Are Breaking ................................................... 166
The Fourth World War ......................................................... 168
The Final Step....................................................................... 169
It’s Time................................................................................ 170
Know Your History ............................................................... 171
Live From What You Learn ................................................... 173
My Final Comeback .............................................................. 174
Send This To Washington..................................................... 176
God’s An Excuse ................................................................... 177
Metaphorically Speaking...................................................... 178
Die or Survive ....................................................................... 179
Take It Over .......................................................................... 180
Love Is Much More… ............................................................ 182
I’m Ready ............................................................................. 183
Chairman Mao ..................................................................... 184
Show No Mercy .................................................................... 186
Hit & Run .............................................................................. 187
Action Above Words ............................................................ 190
For My People’s Common Needs......................................... 191
Love not Terrorism ............................................................... 192
One Move, Blastoff .............................................................. 193
Fuck Your Theories ............................................................... 194
A Militant Cause ................................................................... 196
Where Ever We May Go ...................................................... 197
Capital Plummetation .......................................................... 198
 The Struggle Will Live On ..................................................... 199
Joseph Stack’s Manifesto .................................................... 204
The Manifesto of Joseph Stack ............................................ 205
This book is dedicated to all my comrades, domestic and foreign,
as we continue to fight in solidarity against the class struggle. I
also want to thank a comrade of mine – who has asked for his
name to remain unidentified – “Comrade Sir Comradical”, who
currently resides in India, for actually taking the time and helping
design the front cover of the book for me. Lal Salaam, Comrade!

P a g e | 11
P a g e | 12
Anger is a
Gift

Pt. 1

P a g e | 13
Freedom
I'm walking down Wall-street, hungry & cold,
Looking over my shoulder, waiting for the gun to unfold.
Yeah, we're dying here, both blacks & whites,
So don't be surprised when I rob you & go out of sight.
On the struggle daily, from night to morning,
Same shit every day, life is just too boring.
So I'll get my fake I.D., then acquire a VISA,
Get a shit load of clothes & food, I'll see's ya.
If you've got somewhere to be, then don't be afraid,
Seize that car around the corner & then get paid.
If you want to survive, then you've got to be a caper,
You've got to fight to live, just hand me the paper.
Selling pot around the corner, & more on the other,
This has been my way of life since I came out of my
mother.
Order up some food & then give them the wrong house,
Standby & take all that you need, in & out like a mouse.
You may think it's unfair to live off of food stamps,
Though I'd rather live like this than in some boot camp.
Uncle Sam gave this life to me, so let's shake them,
I say keep robbing the system until we gain our freedom.

The point that I’m making in this poem is that, when one watches
the news, we are told to believe the people that are robbing
banks, robbing gas stations, selling drugs on the streets,
prostituting, etc., that these people are the enemy, that they are
the terrorists of our nation. The problem with this is that the
mainstream news stations never explain why these people are
doing what they’re doing. They automatically judge them towards
an opposing opinion, & leaves it there for others to only see them
as such. They don’t want to tell us that it’s the economical system
that’s putting these people in such a position where they have no

P a g e | 14
other choice but to break all the laws if they want to survive. The
news makes the banks look like the victims when a bank robbery
takes place, not the robbers, themselves. Because, fact of the
matter is that, they’re the victims. And the system, itself is the true
culprit of the crimes that are committed. You want to see the
enemy, it is capitalism & those that support it.

P a g e | 15
Justify, I That Cry
Known to die for the very eyes,
Fighting against the war animal's cry.
So justify what you live by,
Am I the only one tired of corporate lies?
In Dubai & all across the sky,
We're draining the profits of the capitalists dry.
So don't you die, & don't get high,
We need the minds of the struggle to testify!

This is a simple poem that represents the act of fighting back

against capitalism. And I show this by also pointing out how it is
not just a threat in the U.S., but is a threat to many other nations
as well & is bringing them down to third world levels. So the
only way of ending this enemy is through the majority & for them
to rise up & take action.

P a g e | 16
I’ve Got To Know
The pressure that is put on me,
The very drags of society,
If this is all that is part of life, then there’s nothing.
The very calls, speaking out the word,
I awaken the minds of the shepherd's herd,
Despite the things that you think you know, you know
nothing.
Where do I go, what should I know, what exactly is life?
Why do I conform, or even reform?
Well I've got to know!
The vultures, they are eating me alive,
Uncle Sam, this is not how I jive.
Beyond the world that you have taught me, I see nothing.
The prison walls, they are screaming for help,
A political prisoner, that is how I felt,
Where do you see the justifications of these profits?
Is this really the norm, why don't I storm?
Well I've got to know!

This poem represents the questions in life, whether you choose a

political lifestyle or not. We need people to start asking
themselves why things are happening the way they are, because
if they don’t then the world has no chance in being liberated
from the pain & struggle that it’s endured for many years now.

P a g e | 17
Women’s militia of People’s Democratic
Republic of Afghanistan

P a g e | 18
No Shelter For You
As the stricken wars reach the third world, no fee,
Piling all the bodies so that no one can see.
Spread it out, on your knees, & be the whore of the system,
And yet you say you're the cure, I say you're the symptom.
And as the courts now rule that the death penalty's back,
A man's life is on the line, a heart is what you lack.
When the bombs start dropping, & the workers are fighting,
There's no sight of you, in the shelters you are lighting.
No, not from the cigars, not from your celebrating,
It's you on fire, no shelter for the systematic mating.
Land-whores & power-whores are now stealing in lines,
And when I rush in D.C. I'll take back what is mine.
No shelter for you, and no shelter for me
This is where I take my oath, write down the fucking plea.

This poem represents that, when the revolution begins, those that
oppose us have nowhere to hide. The politicians will have no
bunkers ready for them, no safe havens for them, no shelter
whatsoever that they can run & hide in. That we will occupy
them before they even think about exiling to them. And when they
do reach their shelters, then they better be ready for either death
or waving a white flag, because we’ll show them no mercy if
needed.

P a g e | 19
Carlo Giuliani
In the streets of Genoa an uproar was led,
The G8 summit is now being waged, but a war
On the streets is erupting in prevention,
To prevent the lies to continue on the Italian people.
But one of the many protesters that came out & fought,
The son of a trade union activist,
Fighting for what he believed in, he was shot in the face,
Though here's the thing, he was still alive,
Until those fascists ran him over, not once, but twice!
But of course, no charges were brought against them,
It was like nothing ever really happened.
The evidence pointed to a crime that was committed,
Though this is what happens in a fascist ruling.
To this day, his name is within honor,
He'll be remembered forever throughout each battle.
Within the next year of July the 20th
We, the revolutionaries, will chant his name.
R.I.P. Carlo Giuliani.

I ended up writing this poem when I read about how this guy was
killed by this police officer during a riot at the G8 summit that
was taking place in Genoa. To an extent, I understand that the
cop was merely protecting himself from the rioter, but how the
guy died is what led me to actually write this in his honor. He
was not only shot in the head by the cop, but he also ran him
over with the vehicle the cop was in twice. Autopsy reports have
said that Carlo could’ve been still alive during the head shot, but
died because he was run over. What the cop did was absolutely
unnecessary & wrong, & he should be put behind bars for it. But
of course, he’ll only get the usual suspension & then right back
on the streets, ready for another victim of police brutality.

P a g e | 20
Blasphemy
The negligence from the seer that is born,
Raging in the land of the weak & the dead.
The wicked will suffer there on the cross,
Halos around, broken in half, & the wings on fire.
Gott ist tot, verrottet er auf dem Kreuz!
There on the apple of the tree of eden
Bears the mark of the teeth that your Gott betrayed.
My hand is over the cliff that you hang,
So take it & see the truth that Gott ist tot!
The Daemons are close in hand by your Lord,
As the wretched are scorned with the nails abound.
The blood is falling off the head of your Christ,
There, thy exposed as the Masih ad-Dajjal.
'Throw the christians into the lions',
I welcome you to the modern Rome.
Blasphemy is the name that I conquer,
You won't burn eternally, you are finally free.

I hope those that are reading aren’t too lazy to do a little

research on basic German, because you won’t truly know what
I’m saying in those certain sections of the poem. But really, the
meaning behind it is purely my belief that man must go against
the idea of their being a God if one wants to be truly free. I,
myself, embrace the life of blasphemy because it’s a free willing
life of non-servitude.

P a g e | 21
Happy Genocide
The egocentric bystanders of death with food,
We relive another year of the genocidal past.
Long forgotten by the majority of those that celebrate,
Bewilders the mass when one finds a Native crying.
Giving for what you are thankful for?
Is this really the case, or just tradition?
A kill in honor of a kill, oh how hypocritical.
A blatant gesture would be to protest this day,
Every year instead of a feast, show them you are aware.
Innocent lives were killed in honor of this day,
As were the innocent lives killed to make this day.
Where do we find the time to feast on the living,
Or merely celebrate for the lives that are long gone?
This is like the Battle of the Alamo,
We celebrate for the "hero's", despite the fact
That they were fighting for the right of slavery.
But I guess this is just the American way,
Where death of the innocence puts food on the table.
Now, that the Natives of this land is practically no more,
The turkeys are the latest victims of Thanksgiving day.

I made this poem because of my belief that the celebration of

Thanksgiving is merely a farced tradition, in which bears a
history of genocidal deceit to our native ancestors. This also
represents my belief in veganism, in which I show that, ever
since we practically killed off the vast majority of Native
Americans, our genocidal wrath is now towards another
innocent life – turkeys. To me, if we truly wanted to do something
on Thanksgiving day, then we should all be on the streets &
protest or rally our feelings towards what we did to the Natives
so many years ago, & practically still do as we continue to treat
them like shit, refuse to give them reparations, & still take their
land through domestic imperialism.

P a g e | 22
Mao Zedong and He Zizhen

P a g e | 23
Perish What You Cherish
Into the humid nature that we call our nation
With the ass-backwards economics that fuels inflation,
As we march on the streets, demanding an answer,
We continue to live in this world's cancer.
The fuel of all the tyrants that were brought to a halt
Were justified by the right of the might, not what we
bought.
Through these times, I wonder if it's worth fighting for,
For, when we fight, we are shown the prison door.
If you don't believe me, then look at Jamal,
Why is it that I'm the only one answering his call,
For the given rights that we all hold by our side,
Rebelling against the laws that I once had abide.
Though corrupted in the eyes of the white hooded judge,
Is there a story behind the curtains, what was the grudge?
The red star by my wrist represents it all,
The animal of the cannibals, let's watch capitalism fall.
W-W-M-D, What Would Marx Do?
It's time to represent truth, fuck the red, white, & blue.
This is not the flag that I carry & cherish,
I say burn them all, I hope within time they'll perish.

This poem represents the idea that we must end tradition &
everything that we’ve held dearly & sacredly as we move
towards a new & better world. My belief is that nationalism is an
enemy to the Communist ideology & should perish within time –
as in the end of flags, borders, & countries. For a true equal
worldwide society. We need to start realizing that our family is
not just the people that made you or those that are related to
you, but is the entire community. As a community, we need to be
a family & start treating each other with respect & unity.

P a g e | 24
One Nation’s Damnation
When you see democracy, I see occupation,
Salvaging all the lands through the U.S. escalation.
If the bible had foreseen this, then it would've been
damnation,
But where is your God now? All I see is a dying nation.

This is merely used to represent the imperialist tactics that the

U.S. operates under. Take Iraq for example. We’ve created this
ideal name that the reason we’re still in Iraq is because of
“Operation Iraqi Liberation”, in which we claim to be rebuilding
Iraq & bringing about democracy over there. Democracy because
an excuse on why we stay in occupied settlements, in which we
are either there to police those that live in the area or to salvage
most, if not all, resources that are present in the area, or it could
be both. I also mix in a little anti-religion within the poem as well
as you can see. You hear so many people claim that the “end is
coming” because the bible had “foreseen” what is happening now.
Although I believe this world is soon to be dead, it’s not because
of prophecy, but rather self-fulfilling prophecy. So many people
like to claim that God is coming & the end times are near, yet
we’ve been hearing this for a long time now, & God has yet to
even show up. With how many nations there are that are dying, &
that includes the U.S., either there’s no God to come & save us or
he’s just being a complete dick to us.

P a g e | 25
Poly-Tics
When I think of poly I think of the word many,
And when I think of tics I think of the blood sucking
vermin’s.
Put these words together & you'll soon then realize
That politics is nothing more than poly-tics!
The many in Washington, leading the blood-for-oil
campaign,
Are stabilizing the world with economic hit men.
Repudiate the infiltrates, open your eyes & truly see,
That now, the power of love has become the love for
power.

I actually started writing this after a friend of mine made the

cool comparison by separating the word politics into poly & tics
& then defined what both words meant, & still allow it to mean
the exact same thing of what politics still is. I was fairly
impressed with it & had to write a poem for it, because that’s
what politics really is. Just a systematic-upholding that is
operated by a bunch of vermin-like capitalists.

P a g e | 26
A Philosophical War
I'll burn the flags & the suits that hide
The eyes of the minds that choose not to abide.
A philosophical war for the minds of the oppressed,
We've become the "niggers" of the world, governmental
possessed.
This isn't a racial statement, never in my life am I a racist,
I just choose to un-hide truth, someone call the exorcist.
So play ball with the deuces of the rich white few,
Human wise, Obama is black; political wise, he's nothing
new.
He's got the mind of his people, but the eyes of Dubya,
So sign the list, you're going to war, they're shipping ya,
To the known lands of the unknown, a philosophical war.

This poems is suppose to represent the idea that, just because

you’re not fighting overseas doesn’t mean you’re not in the
middle of a war. From what I’ve seen on how things operate in
our economical system, there is no war but class war. We’re
fighting through the struggle that we’ve lived in all of our lives.
And just so you know, when I said that we’ve become the
“niggers” of the world, it’s just like I said below that line, it was
not meant to be a racial statement. I’m not racist whatsoever. In
fact, I have many friends that are black, in which I have a lot
more respect for than the white trash that is present in my
neighborhood. I just view the term “nigger” as not a racial term
against blacks anymore, but rather a political term of how we,
the working class, are treated in this time & age. When blacks
were called niggers by the those of the South those many years
ago, the blacks remember this term as a time of slavery &
exploitation by those of the ruling elite, which in their case was
the Southern whites. That’s how we’ve been treated these days.
We’re either working our asses off for some boss, manager, or

P a g e | 27
CEO member & aren’t even getting a good compensation out of
it from all the work we’ve given them. That’s how capitalism
works & thrives upon it. To exploit the worker under enslaved
conditions, which in turn brings them a profit, as the worker is a
value to them for the gain of such profit.

P a g e | 28
On October 15, 1966, Bobby Seale and Huey P.
Newton formed the Black Panther Party for
Self-Defense (now simply, The Black Panther
Party). The group formed in Oakland, California
in an effort to call for the self-defense from
police brutality. They outlined their party’s
main objectives in their Ten-Point Program.
The armed resistance aspect of the
organization prompted J. Edgar Hoover to call
them “the greatest threat to internal security
of the United States.” Their Ten-Point Program
can be read here:

http://www.blackpanther.org/TenPoint.htm

P a g e | 29
Plead the Second
Plead
The
Second
Before the
Oppressors destroy
The very rights that you hold dear.
If the first becomes impossible, the second won't.

This was just another way of doing a poem & was challenged to
do this & still keep a political message within it that was
powerful enough to get the message through. So I had written
this, which is just me expressing my belief in the second
amendment – the right to bear arms. To me, if we are not
allowed to speak out peacefully & have our demands unfulfilled
then we have no other choice to plead the second, due to the first
being made impossible. JFK’s famous quote said exactly this,
which just shows how ill-researched people these days are :
“Those that make peaceful revolution impossible will make
violent revolution inevitable.”

P a g e | 30
New World Order
Tear off my eyes so that I can see
The world that I once believed in,
Carry me through the portal, I see,
Where did the world go, am I really awake?
Why can't you show me all that I was told to believe in?
Everything that I can see is just an illusion.
There are no conspiracy theories that reveal what I see,
The few that rule & dominate, the New World Order!
So come along, this is a warning,
Before we die we've got to fight for our own homes.
I don't believe the landing on the moon was a hoax,
I don't believe that the rulers are the illuminati.
But when you put yourself in the middle of it, you'll then
realize,
That there are a few in power with imperialist ideas.
The path I walk is the wrong direction.
We've got to see what is really going on,
Until we understand all of this,
Then I fear this world will never see freedom.
So tear off my eyes from me, & understand this is not a
theory,
We're too far off from this world now,
So let's march on until we see the sun.
This isn't some fucking Satanic cult,
I don't even believe in your God!
I don't even have to be a truther to see that there's an
Order.
So let's march on until we see the sun,
The world is getting warmer, but we can't slow down.
So hold my hand, I promise it'll be alright.
The time has come now to rip off your eyes.

P a g e | 31
Just so you people understand, I didn’t go back to my conspiracy
theorist lifestyle. Just because I mention in a “New World
Order” doesn’t mean I’m talking about conspiracy theories. The
term “New World Order” was made many years ago to
represent the idea of their being a few in power with imperialist
agendas. Fact of the matter is that this is not new & has been
going on for a long time now, even before the U.S. So the “New
World Order” is not as new as many like to claim. The problem
with the term these days is that it’s generated a lot of paranoia
to people, in which they’ve allowed themselves to build up these
false ideas of what is going on in the political world & the idea
of their being a “New World Order” got stuck into it. To me, you
don’t need conspiracy theories to explain how a “New World
Order” works. All the theories do is make the term seem vastly
illogical, in which if anyone uses such term, they are then
perceived as one of the nut-wing conspiracy theorists & won’t be
taken serious, despite whether you were right or wrong.

P a g e | 32
Into The Wild
Within the loud un-autonomous cities of lights
There lies within a conscious of pre-existence.
A shadow of differentiability in the state of mind,
Which only is gained against the parallels of
materialization.
Pressure on the wounds of life, a scar on one's soul,
All far from which it derived from, lost in time.
The claim of wants, beyond needs, only settles the debt
riddled mind,
For it is the closure of evolutionary thinking, of change.
The controversy does not become obtained from
revolutionary thinking,
For it builds under the ideas of self-competent obsessions.
Whether a land, a watch, a car, a book,
Laws that only secure, not the owning of words, but the
words to all.
The egocentric, egotistical ideas of love from merely
human connection,
Is not only detrimental to the life of nature, but life itself.
The consensus of yourself & all that surrounds you
Is foretold beyond the petty grandeur of obtaining items,
But rather flows within the winds of our true past.
A journey that sets forth no rules, nor boundaries,
Not merely a beginning, but rather a birth - into the wild.

If you’ve ever seen the movie called “Into the Wild” then you’ll
understand where I’m getting at in this poem. Despite being an
advocate towards the use of technology, I still have a highly
transcendental view of the world & our connection to it. To me,
there’s nothing simpler within life than to truly partake in it,
yourself. To place yourself away from the lifestyle of material
obsession. To stop being a consumer & just live. If there comes a
time when the world is put in a state of condition where we have

P a g e | 33
nothing but the world outside of our homes, something everyone
feared would come on Y2K, then we’d have to start
understanding the difference between wants & needs again. I say
embrace the wild, because, if all else fails, the wild will be all
that’s left for humanity to dwell upon & keep you surviving, if
nothing more.

P a g e | 34
Coup-d’ehagen
Rally around the meeting that is setting the scores,
Against the very people that are begging for more.
What the fuck are we still doing, debating the issue,
Crying over their money, someone please give them a
tissue.
Chavez, though him & me may not see eye-to-eye,
He spoke the truth when he announced that the system must
die.
He spoke, loud & clear, that this is a must,
Before we're able to prevent the climate to combust.
The skeptics screamed out with hatred & fear,
The capitalist's are staring at the light, being hit like deer.
Is it not a surprise that they have yet to bring a solution?
Their meetings are justified as a distraction to the
revolution.
I say we march into the meeting, with our red & black
flags,
Blacks & whites, men & women, straights & fags,
Let's show them that the majority are tired of waiting,
Turn off your fucking TV's, quit the masturbating.
This is how it starts for change to truly come,
Our voices will scream far, from the cities to the slums.
Occupy & resist, we'll show them a coup d'etat,
Resist the coup-d'ehagen, this who we are!

For those that are radical environmentalists like I am, then it

wouldn’t be hard to realize how the Copenhagen meeting
seemed to have been hijacked by a bunch of capitalists instead of
real activists & scientists who know what needs to happen to end
global warming. To me, I’m not a fan of the cap ‘n trade idea
when it comes to trying to find a solution for global warming. I
find it be quite pussy-like & rattled with corporate greed. Gore
seems to have done what every other capitalist has done, & that

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was to find a profit off of a disaster, & that is global warming.
Though, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt that his heart is
somewhere within the movement & I hope he wakes up more to
what we can do rather than a corporate “Cap n’ Trade”. We
know what needs to happen. We need shut down the big oil
industries, we need to shut down the factory farms & replace
them with family farms, we need cleaner energy, & the most
important thing of them all, capitalism MUST end. Before we are
to change the climate, we must first change the system, because
it’s the system, itself, that has put in a barricade between the
people & the true solution to ending global warming. What we
saw at Copenhagen was nothing more than a economic coup
d’etat. Nothing more, nothing less. Next Copenhagen meeting, I
call for the people to rise up & occupy the entire thing. Stand
your grounds & demand REAL SOLUTIONS!

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Bailout the Workers
Bailout the workers not the Wall-Street banks!
This should be the chant from the people to those in ranks.
They're keeping up Wal-Mart while it remains monopolizing,
This is the sign that our fucking economy is dying.
Brain dead congressmen thinking they are within power,
These are the same men that justified war when Osama brought
down the towers.
But don't think they justified war because of Osama's plans,
Nor think they justified the bailouts because of the rich men's
clan.
This was used to keep the system flowing,
All while the president sits behind his desk, getting a blowing.
So fuck the system, if they offer us help, I'll say no thanks,
Bailout the workers not the Wall-Street banks!

It’s just as simple as what the title of the poem implies. Instead of
bailing out all the major banks, who were the same people that
put us into the mess we’re in right now, we should’ve bailed out
the workers. Help fund small businesses. Because, despite what
we see through these large industries with their cheap prices, the
only reason they’re cheap is because they go based on the
competitive market plan, in which is used to help eliminate small
businesses. The reason why small businesses are not as cheap
as the large businesses is because of how scarce it is for them to
get any business at all because of the big businesses getting all
the sales from their cheap prices. If we were to eliminate the big
businesses & simply just allowed more small ones, we’d be
seeing, not a competitive market, but a cooperative market run
by the workers. The prices would go down as the scarcity goes
down & the best of it all would be the development of more jobs
for workers. So, our demands are quite simple. Eliminate the
slave-labor funded big industries & replace them with small
businesses, & allow the workers to own the means of production.

P a g e | 37
“You can’t operate a capitalistic system unless
you are vulturistic; you have to have someone
else’s blood to suck to be a capitalist. You show
me a capitalist, I’ll show you a bloodsucker. He
cannot be anything but a bloodsucker if he’s
going to be a capitalist. He’s got to get it from
somewhere other than himself, and that’s
where he gets it- from somewhere or someone
other than himself.”

~Malcolm X

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Kleptomaniacs
Kleptomaniacs,
Waging war in Iraq,
They're the ones bringing in the crack,
Occupying the almanac,
Though, there's something they've yet to hack,
The voices of the people is what they lack.

This is just a simple description of how the elitist politicians are.

They are simply deranged capitalists with a lot of corporate
backing, who wage war in the name of imperial occupation. The
system that they operate under, which is no secret, helps ship in
the drugs like crack, cocaine, etc., from places like Mexico & the
heroine comes from Vietnam. They’ve consolidated so much
power that it’s hard to even get by in life without them directly
affecting the way you live. If we want to see these things stopped
then we must do it ourselves, because, no matter how much
power they have, we have something they don’t, & that’s the
majority.

P a g e | 39
O.I.L.
Operation Iraqi Liberation, is that the reason
that the poor are fighting in hell?
I don't fucking think so, they're there to siege the other O.I.L.
This illegal war proves beyond a shadow of a doubt
That they'll continue to border jump their powers,
not the other route.
These are times, these are days when
fighting wars became a clique,
Fighting & killing until your mind became altered & sick.
When did supporting what they do become a law to abide,
1/3 of those that are fighting will soon commit suicide.
Why is this the same number of those
that come back without a home?
No health care & no family, just inside the dumpsters they roam.
You say, "Support the troops!", well I say,
"Only those that refuse to fight!"
They may be sent to jail, but only because
they're fighting for your rights.

This is just to express my belief how the wars we’ve been waging
were partly brought about because of the oil fields that were
known to be around such areas. Wars don’t just play the role of
land occupation, but the occupation of resources as well. Many
third world countries are affected because of first world
imperialism. Whether it be of their land or their resources.

P a g e | 40
No Excuses
Power whores of D.C., front lining claims that we're free,
By the system's wrong, aired live from the pentagon.
Here they spoke their plea, saying they're against tyranny,
And while the media are playing this, a village was bombed.
And so they're tackling all the choices, health care or china-wear,
Cheap items within the market, slave labored, don't you care?
300 channels on your TV, & all the channels look the same,
The media complaining about a protest, & all the while, a village
was bombed.
A systematically-based witch hunt, 50's scare in the mind we
bear,
While the players are on their chairs, a bomb is ticking by a
children's fair,
And in a funeral, a time when we're all suppose to mourn a
death,
A celebrity's face aired one day straight, & once again, a village
was bombed.
The norm became that we were to bomb, fuck the norm,
The time had come, the villagers finally grew tired.
So they justified their history by finally taking action,
Because now, it was our village that was bombed.
So don't give me any fucking excuses!

This was a particular statement that I’ve tended to use when it

came to the reasons behind 9/11. So many, to this day, still ask
themselves why 9/11 happened. They fail to see, nor understand
that the wars we’re waging has nothing to do with 9/11, & will
only make things worse to where, eventually, another 9/11 will
take place. The media always love talking about how terrorists
hate our freedoms, how every Muslim is trained under the Quran
to kill Americans, & inevitably they end up coming with the
conclusion that 9/11 happened because of our freedoms. Let me
first say this, in respect to friends of mine who do follow the

P a g e | 41
Quran, if you’ve never read the Quran & studied it yourself, shut
the fuck up & stop bringing politics into religion. It’s bad
enough we’re taking part in the “Holy War” that’s taking place
in the Middle East. Now, back to the reason behind 9/11, the
poem is meant to symbolize the fact that, in which the media
refuses to talk about, we’ve been bombing their lands for many
years now. One of the main reasons why Osama bin Laden had
left those that trained him & his followers, al Qaeda. It was only
a matter of time ‘til they were going to retaliate & bomb us back.
Once 9/11 happened, we should have organized a mass meeting
& actually start asking WHY 9/11 happened, & not be so crazed
in such a macho-like mentality on “getting revenge on the
enemy.” The fact that we’re continuing the bombing only shows
that we’ll soon face another 9/11 in the coming future.

P a g e | 42
Rebel in the Mind
Shakers, the Quakers, the leaders of the unions,
The progressives & the rebels all across the meridian,
Are taking back their homes, their lands that they roam,
They're stealing back the minds, from now to Rome.
Can't you see, the system wants you to remain silent,
I say, don't be quiet, & keep defying the tyrants.
They're propagandizing the minds by calling us terrorists,
Though, some may be, but it's not terrorism to kill imperialists.
You think you're smart when you go against the rebels of PCP,
Though when you killed Curitomay, you created all that you see.
You say all those that were killed were victims of a murder,
More like a victim of the system, you try to control us with your
sunder.
Yeah, I support the MEND, I see exactly where they're coming
from,
Yet, you consider them terrorists, do you think I'm that fucking
dumb.
All across the news, you air that they've attacked the oil lines,
Yet they're doing it to protect the poor, why can't you see the
sign?
If you want to make a difference, then being a cop is not the
answer,
You should join the Mayan rebels, for Zapata in his honor.
And for all my natives, you can't forget the A.I.M.,
Leonard, justice will come, the time is now for us to free him.
So let's bring truth, let's bring justice, history is on our side,
All the leaders in history, the majority of them lied.
So take note, this is your time, you have to be a rebel in the
mind,
Gather arms, let's rebel, for our paths have now shined.

This was one of my favorites to write because how it outlined my

support towards a diverse range of groups. Such groups include

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the PCP (Peruvian Communist Party aka Shining Path), MEND
(Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta), the EZLN
(Zapatista Liberation Army), & also A.I.M. (American Indian
Movement). Which there are many others, but these are the main
groups that I’ve shown my support towards for a while. The
poem was meant to show my support & to point out the reasons
behind why I support them. To let them be the groups that we,
the working class, should look up to & start arming up as they
have armed as well. There will never be a successful bloodless
revolution with the aims we’re seeking, so I suggest all my
comrades/camaradas to get that out of their head, because it’ll
only serve as a detrimental barricade between the revolution &
our goals.

P a g e | 44
Red banner on the Brandenburg Gate quadriga

P a g e | 45
Guerrillas On The Streets
Take control of the microphone, our word against theirs,
Fists with lists, the demands are stated as the world stares.
This is a call for the fall of the capitalist control,
Guerrilla warfare, striking on the streets, filled with bullet holes.
Yeah, filled with bullet holes, & our leaders names are on it,
This is a worldwide strike against the bosses who have their
crosses lit.
I may be a man against God, but I would never burn down a
church,
I'm not a terrorist, I'm a fucking liberator, now burn the merch.
We're not like the others, you can't destroy us with your
COINTELPRO,
A catalyst was bound to happen, & now the banksters are out of
control.
And so, this is where we reach the climax,
Dropping bombs of truth on the media, destroyed with facts.
Words of freedom, no there's nothing else like it,
Too bad the majority are too fucking poor to have it.
So this is where we call for the Fifth International,
Before the world is controlled by the elitist irrational.
We've got to change, a dictatorship of the proletariat,
And to my comrades, stand strong, don't obey & don't submit!

This is to point out my deepest support towards guerrilla

warfare. It’s always been a favorable tactic during revolutionary
warfare, & has shown a huge success rate for those that have
used it. I’m not saying that guerrilla warfare should be the most
used during revolutionary battle within urban areas, & more
around the act of militantly occupying large businesses &
buildings. But the means of waging such tactic should become a
necessary must at times for those that are within small groups or
short locations.

P a g e | 46
God Is Not Coming
Do you believe that there's a God?
I'd like to think that there once was,
But do I think he's still here, I nod,
I think that he is now a lost cause.
This is a march to take a stand,
Against the fighting that's on the sand.
Are we really going to wait for a myth,
Or are we gonna rise & plead the fifth?
I am Yahweh, I am the angels,
I am the 'Man', I am my own leader.
Are we are gonna wait for the apocalypse,
Are we gonna wait for two-thousand-twelve?
I say we pull on the flag until it rips,
I say we liberate the third world 'elves'.
So bounce around, it's time to shake things up,
It's time to socialize, bottom-up.
I say we cover what we hate with a flag,
And show that this economy is a drag!
I am the monk, I am the master,
I am the bank, where I spread all the wealth to everyone!
This is the way that things should be,
So what the fuck are we gonna do?
I say we rise against God & see,
I say we greet the President with our shoes.
Because if we don't, in a hundred years,
We're going to suffer by every New Years.
If you wanna a future for your kids, I say,
Occupy the government & don't obey!

I’ll come out & say that this wasn’t exactly my most favorable
poem to have written for this book, but its message seemed to
have been important enough to include in the book. The meaning
behind it is that one needs to become their own leader. Sure, I

P a g e | 47
advocate for a leader to a certain extent, but the driving force of
a revolution should not come from a one-rule leader, or a God,
or anything that resembles a higher power. One needs to grasp
such power for themselves & let the groups of people be the
driving force of the revolution.

P a g e | 48
The Jumping Bull Fraud
Run & grab your arms, the Feds are declaring war
Against those of Jumping Bull, the two car led massacre.
The fire fight began, though no one knows what it was for,
They got their man, an innocent man, & his name was Peltier.
You think you got your man, well then put him on the stand,
And show the lack of evidence that you have put him through.
Though, as you can see, all the truth was canned,
You're fighting against the warriors, the anti-Wilson goon crew.
So let's talk the truth, about the law of extradition,
You think threatening a working mother can justify lies?
Well I can see that all of this was just another mission,
The COINTELPRO will carry on until Peltier dies.
How about this, go & grant him executive clemency,
Because if you don't, then it won't be the last you've heard of me,
Nor all the people, & the A.I.M., they'll be coming, just you see,
Come on, speak the truth, just make your fucking plea.
Words of freedom, the dying freedom of words,
And all the while, the red truck keeps gaining a mile.
You say the bullet matched his rifle, truth is, that's absurd,
And the Looking Cloud trial showed all that was vile.
You used the death of Aquash to help you make a trial,
Well I say a paid off 'witness' is nowhere near the truth.
Can you hear them, the voices are chanting in miles,
'Let him go! Let him go!', come & face the pro-Peltier youth!

This was made in support of the political prisoner, Leonard

Peltier, former member of the A.I.M. What had happen was that
an unmarked police vehicle ended up approaching this land
called Jumping Bull & started firing their guns at those that
were camped on the land. It ended up into a shootout until both
cops got shot to death. At the time, there were others that were
put on trial for the death of the two cops, including Leonard, but
all of them were found not guilty except for Leonard. At the time

P a g e | 49
he was located in the Canadian boundary, & the only way they
could’ve convicted him was if they could get him back on U.S.
territory. The way they did this was when they got this woman to
lie in court, in which she’s come out in the open & explained
how the cops threatened her that if she didn’t do what they told
her to do then they’d hurt her children, and she ended up telling
the court that she knew Leonard & that she was told by him that
he killed the two cops. It was enough for the court to agree for
Leonard to be sent back to the U.S. & from there he was
convicted & found guilty for the murder of the two cops. Though,
given that we found out that the woman’s “confession” was false
& was only done because the cops forced her to do it, it would
then make the transfer from Canadian territory to U.S. territory
illegal, according to the law of extradition. To this day, they
have no evidence to keep Leonard locked up. They even tried
matching his gun with the bullets found in the cops & it didn’t
match. The only thing they’ve got on him are false testimonies &
they also used the death of former A.I.M. member, Aquash, to
create this story that both Leonard & other members of the
A.I.M. killed Aquash because she was going to turn them all in
for the death of the two cops. So the entire trial & it’s
conclusions was purely illegal & should be overturned &
Leonard should be granted executive clemency for his long
demanded freedom.

P a g e | 50
Leonard Peltier

P a g e | 51
The River
The Dynasty is here, flowing down the river,
Falling into place, for I am an angel dying in space.
Take all my honor, I'm dying here & can't get up.
What is wrong with this place, where is my true love?
I can't hide the face I shame, flowing down the river.
Yeah, I call you out, before my time runs out,
I am nothing here, but maybe there's a chance
That Anubis is by my side within the river of the dead.
Godly image, that I have foreseen, why can't you appear,
I can see you, I can see you, falcon in the sky.
I am the only one that has ever truly understood you.
Oh mother, oh mother, virgin Isis-Mery rain.
The sky is falling down, I'm falling down in the river.
All of my life is running away within the waves,
I am dying here, I am falling & can't get up.
Crucify me in the sky, I'm with the falcon that doesn't die,
Yeah I call you out, before my time runs out today.
Oh mother, oh mother, the very myth within my mind.
Oh father, oh father, falcon flying in the sky.

I particularly made this poem to express my belief that the

biblical story is a copy of other ancient religions. If one really
studies the older religions, you’d realize the vast similarities
between Jesus & the sun-God Horus. I’d explain in great detail
if I wanted, but I’d prefer you’d get your sources from someone
who’s a profession scholar & archaeologist in this field. To do
this, I’d recommend anyone who’s interested in finding out more
about these parallels then get a copy of “Christ in Egypt: The
Horus-Jesus Connection” by D.M. Murdock.

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Blind Faith
Come & see, the radicals that live in N.C.,
Who is me? Wait a minute, that might cost you a fee.
But you've got to believe, that me is who you see,
So come on, faith is your only true philosophy.
Coming around the corner, the cops are beating a man down,
A robber or a murderer, so says the man with the crown.
So now you're strapped & bound, getting a beat down,
The sirens are the sounds, the very truth that you found.
You're paying for your sins, & praying for your wins,
So much trust for a God, I don't know where to begin.
Healing the blind? Do they really want to see lies again?
Your faith is nothing more than a ruling by men.
I can't just sit back & watch the death of our own kind,
Isn't a plane in a building enough of a sign?
So be kind & rewind, history must go in the minds
Of the poorly dread, like Vietnam, our kind you'll never find.
With our guns in the air, & a fist in the other,
Man made God, but the myths just keep getting further.
So it's up to us, we are all sisters & brothers,
Revolutionaries forever, born since we came from our mothers.

This is to represent the act of questioning all that you’re told. To

not follow someone blindly, to not believe in something blindly.
To me, being revolutionary & listening to both sides of a story
are conjoined. For someone can’t be one thing without the other.

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Colombian Coke
Within the struggle of the murders that are taking place,
The cries of the unions are upon us, just look at the face.
Those that are bottling caps are being capped themselves,
Eyes of the workers, tortured & oppressed, then put on the
shelves.
Are these the effects of the South American dream,
Or are these the corporate wishes of the vile & obscene?
How about you choke the bottles that enslave the people,
Get wild & walk out, make a scene on the steeple.
With a plant that endorses kidnappings, torture, & kill,
It wouldn't surprise me if them & BTK, together, had a meal.
It all started since the last decade of the 20th century,
So let us expose your crimes & let your fate be held by the jury.
The paramilitary thugs are striking within the night,
Well I say we fight back, ignite the corporations out of sight.
Isidro Segundo Gil, your voice is upon a million more,
If you, the managers, continue to allow this, we'll be by your
door.
I hope you can see the errors of the crimes you committed,
All we are demanding for is the truth, signed & admitted.
The 10 shots by the gates will continue to be heard,
That is until we are granted justice, so hear the people's word.

There’s a documentary that’s airing all across the nation right

now called “The Coca Cola Case,” & what it exposes is the
crimes against Colombian coca cola union workers by those that
are running the Coca Cola plants & the paramilitary thugs that
are securing the plant. Many protests have taken place because
of it, but there have still been more deaths, kidnappings &
torture claims against union workers that have worked for the
Coca Cola plant located in Colombia. Justice MUST happen for
these people, because if not, then many innocent lives will
continue to be killed.

P a g e | 54
TeVo the Revo!
A maniac in a limo, the cat is out for a ride,
In the streets, in the ghetto, where there's nothing to hide.
Barging down all the doors with a just a blink of an eye,
Noose in the hand, a conviction in the other, are you ready
to die?
Even when I have a home, there's nothing inside,
The law is starving me to death, yet they want me to abide?
Life is the lotto, you've gotta roll the dice,
Taking each crumb as a fortune, we're living like mice.
By every sunrise, I'm living each day like the other,
But when the night falls, I promise I will go further.
They better start martial law, for me & my comrades are
coming in,
Asking questions while demanding answers, shouting 'God
never created men!'
Streets on fire by a bomber raid missile,
Striking down on D.C., burning down the official.
An AK in the mind, a pen in the hand,
Writing down the ransom, & not for green of dead men.
This is a call for a revolution, so let it be heard,
When we occupy a bank, we're not robbing it, we're just
spreading the word.
So let's create history, man is by our side,
Taking over the streets, never again will we run & hide.

This poem is purely about organizing together & militantly

taking over the United States. That, when all else fails & have
nothing left to lose, we must rise up & fight for everything back,
by any means necessary. It’s a call for those that are being
kicked out of their homes, to take your homes back. That if the
police or national guard, or whoever they release, fires at you,
then you fire back. They take your money, you take the money
back. We, the people, must take the power back!

P a g e | 55
 Workers rally
(time and event unknown)

P a g e | 56
Fee to be Free
Throwing you in the corner, waiting for you to rot,
They got you checking your pockets, giving all that you
got.
All they are selling is God & the more for war,
Here in Post-America, begging for land, pleading for more.
In the city, the front lines are near,
And in the trees, you have more to fear.
Stare your eyes to your master & let him beg for help,
Just don't be a corporate pawn like Michael Phelps.
Here we raise what use to be our flag,
Burnt material, tie it up, let it drag.
C'mon let's rise up like Amilcar Cabral,
Start from the feet - up, just make them crawl.
The city lights are fading, the economy's boiling,
Giving your life up for mansions like J.K. Rowling.
Here in this fantasy, there's a fee to be free,
Our leaders are living like kings, set them on fire, let's get
free.
Blood is on the diamonds, the blood is on your hands,
No more of this fucking bullshit, it's time to take a stand.
The White House is next, this time we're not going back
home,
Like you did to Pakistan, we're going to use a drone.

This was made to describe the domestic imperialism that takes

place here in the U.S. Where, whether it is your house, land,
personal property, money, etc., the U.S. takes & occupies all that
they can get within a legal sense, or at least close enough to loop
around the illegality that’s taking place. We’re considered as the
“Land of the Free”, the only problem is that it’s like those
commercials that advertise ringtone codes or phone hook-ups,
where they give off this claim that something’s free, yet it’s made
sure that the printing that shows that what you’re doing isn’t

P a g e | 57
really free as small as it can be & located at the bottom of
everything else, allowing people to not really notice the bottom
small printing. That’s freedom here in the U.S. We’re told that
we live in this “Land of the Free”, yet if one really looks at the
small print then you’ll realize that you’re about to fall into a
profit scam, because that’s how the U.S. operates – under the
profit system.

P a g e | 58
Aired Live From Death Row
Now can you hear the call, one left, in the rotting cell,
Coming in innocent, then coming out guilty, welcome to hell.
Can't you see that they're profits for an expanding system,
And yet their only crimes was that they spoke of wisdom.
Take a look inside the prison cell & see the undying sorrow,
If you don't believe that there's injustice, then take a look at
Scottsboro.
False claims are everywhere, this is the American dream,
More prisoners than Rome, why can't we go home, aimed by the
snipers beam.
This is a cry for help, this is a dead man's call,
Staring at death through the eyes of Mumia Jamal.
The silent screams are present, aired live from death row,
Taking in workers, bring out the murderers, with freedom behind
them they tow.
This search for terrorists in our homeland is a scam since that
day of 9/11,
This is unfair, why don't you care, this is why I'm speaking out
for the Liberty Seven.
You're either black or a worker, it doesn't matter, truth is we're
all the same,
We're all victims here, & if you're not a prisoner then you're a
pawn of corporate fame.
We've got to keep fighting, so keep your guns ready,
The target is west, so get your aim straight, keep it steady.
This crime to be free must end, shout out, we're of many,
What we see now was of the past, we're all becoming Sacco &
Vanzetti.
There is no war but class war, so you better keep on stepping,
In the pen we're killing each other, behind the pen the guards are
betting.
Here in this post-third reich U.S. culture, this is a prisoners
galore,

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It doesn't even matter if you voted for Gore, we'll keep on
remaining prisoners of war.

This is a poem made for all the political prisoners, & mainly for
Mumia Abu-Jamal, given that he’s only got a little while left
until he’s killed for the crime he didn’t commit. In this one,
unlike my other poem “Criminalized Innocence”, I mention
other occurrences that took place, in which I feel are still
innocent prisoners in this country, or ones that went through
what today’s political prisoners went through. Such people of
today would be the “Liberty Seven”, where 7black workers were
tricked by the FBI to claim that they were helping al Qaeda. If
they were to say this then they would’ve got some money to help
pay for their family.

Then I mention the Scottsboro trial where 9 black guys was being
charged for the rape of two white women. The trial went on for a
while until they found 4 out of the 9 not guilty. The reasons behind
why they were released was because of a deal made that if they
admitted to the rape charge then they could serve a minimum
sentence or be released then, depending on the age & how much
time they had served already. The other five remained in prison to
their death beds. What interests me about the case as well was
when the Governor, at the time, was about to leave office he was
going to pardon the rest of the defendants so that they could
finally gain their freedom, but the catch was that they had to admit
to the rape charge. Those that were still alive remained pleading
they were not guilty & refused to be released with a lie. Ever since
9/11, the term “terrorist” has loosely been altered to where even
the petty career criminal would be considered as a terrorist. It’s
created a system of fear & injustice. To this day, not one political
prisoner has yet to be released. I demand for things to change
soon, as do many others as well.

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Third World Is Over You
I'm out in the desert where the third world's gone,
Beside the mushroom cloud that had risen at the break of dawn.
This is the future that is willingly being given to us,
And yet we're bickering about who's the next president, why the
fuss?
Here in Americana, don't believe a fucking word that they have
to say,
These are the same motherfuckers who tried attacking Cuba at
the 'pigs of bay'.
Lock & load is the only thing that I have to say,
For the revolution will not be over by the end of the day.
I'll take the president & bring his life a purgatory,
So hold your breath, for you'll be dead before the end of this
story.
I refuse to give this world any broken promises,
Though, I'll give you my word that I'll try to be the best there is.
Come & face the people that you've deceived for over a century,
Your life will be just like the Soviet Union, you'll be history.
This is no fucking debate, the time is now for us to go & take
action,
So come & rise up, the third world against the imperialist
faction.
Domination is the way that you play your game,
Well when we come barging in, I promise you, it will not be the
same.
This capitalist McCarthyism cannot last for another second,
It'll soon become just like your head, down & prescind.
You better get ready, for this is the coming feature presentation,
Guerrillas, worldwide, against the elitist globalization.
Down & over, do you really think you can keep up with me?
For the people's army's taking over like the waves of the sea.

I made this poem to spread a message of third world peasants &

P a g e | 61
workers to rise up & destroy the first world exploitation.
Capitalism is not just a threat to areas like the U.S., but is a
threat to all third world countries, from all the exploitation,
corruption, pollution, etc. that is taking place over there due to
first world dominance. It is my initial belief that the revolution
starts from the lower areas of the world, third world countries,
& then makes it way towards first world countries, due to the
fact that if one wants to militantly take over places like the U.S.
then it’ll take the majority of the world to stand up against them,
due to how large & well organized first world countries are.

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Self-Righteous Suicide
In the heart of the land, divided by the contraband,
There awakens a spirit that decided to take a stand.
This Texas man, who never bowed down & ran,
Gave his life for the cause, & so now I'm a fan.
The manifesto that was written talked of suffering & pain,
The very pain that we're all feeling, he was not insane.
Like the Japanese of World War 2, he committed kamikaze,
I hope the message came through, he stood up to the U.S. stasi.
Laugh it up, call him a kook, he did more than you,
Instead of sitting behind a computer, he knew what he had to do,
He brought the building in flames like the home he left behind,
Disillusioned to the lies, disillusioned in the mind.
His actions might not start the coming revolution,
But he was suffering in life, & so he gave his solution.
He put a plane in a building, just like 9/11,
If there is even a God then this man deserves to go to heaven.
His face should be the symbol of all the righteous rebels,
And make sure it stays true to us, not some corporate label.
He's a martyr for the cause & I wish I was beside him,
Saying 'FUCK THE SYSTEM', with a bang against Capitalism!

R.I.P. Joseph Andrew Stack

For those that keep up with the news & what happens on our
own soil then you’ll know who I’m talking about in this poem. I
made this poem in respect to Joseph Stack who committed
suicide by flying a plane in a building that was filled with IRS,
FBI, & CIA. Then we found out that he left a manifesto on his
site before he left to finish his mission. In the manifesto, in which
I’ll publish on this book, showed his support towards the
Communist ideology & was well against the capitalist
exploitations that was taking place in this country, in which he
was a victim, himself, for many years. Though, I’ll state this

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right now to get things cleared up. I acknowledge that IRS
workers are what they are – workers. And so, I don’t agree with
the people he aimed in attacking, completely, in which he hoped
to become a martyr to a coming revolution. But the reason
behind the attack I can definitely support & is the main reason
why I continue to put R.I.P. every time I talk about Joseph Stack.
I’d also like to clear up the false notion that his family was still
in the house, in which he burned down before he left to fly his
plane into the building. It’s been confirmed that the family was
nowhere inside the house, &, in fact, the family came home
finding the house burning to the ground. Again, I wish he had
thought this through a little bit more before he attacked an IRS
building, along with making his family homeless, I still
understand completely where his pain is coming from & why he
did what he did. Stack, if a revolution does start in your name, or
even starts at all soon, then you will be a martyr, for your attack
could very well be the next “first shot heard around the world.”

P a g e | 64
 Commemoration of revolutionary martyrs at the
Extraordinary Party Congress of the Socialist Unity
Centre of India (Communist). Nov. 24-25, 2010,
Kolkata.

P a g e | 65
Fight Back!
Brass knuckles strapped in the backseat,
Dragging out the bats with our hands attached.
Calling out from 3 to 1, you better get ready,
For the people's war is about to take place.
Fight back, the bourgeois is running away,
Falling in place, don't let them take our place.
Fight back, the bosses are out of control,
The CEO's think they know what the fuck we want.
Draining out the liquidation, we're all going dry,
Before the markets start dropping, you will go first.
This is the people's court & we are all the jury,
So get ready, for the verdict has given their answer.
Fight back, wake up & see the nightmare,
For this struggle is alive & it will never die.
Fight back, rise against the systematic machine,
For the time to rise is now before it is too late.
Turn off the lights & strap up the AK,
When the squads barge in light up the whole damn room.
Workers & peasants, the militias are present,
Taking over the country from town to town.
Fight back, drag them in the back seat,
Show them where the fuck you are coming from.
Fight back, can't you see you are living a dream,
Open your eyes & realize that we have never been free,
So fight back!

Just a simple poem which means exactly what the title says. It’s
initially about my belief that the workers & peasants should be
the driving forces towards the revolution. It’s time for the
working class to fight back against their bosses, managers, etc. I
remember reading a news report one time about where a bunch
of laid off workers decided to take matters into their own hands
& killed their boss. It just shows, in which I hope that incident

P a g e | 66
can be brought out as a message to all those in power who
exploit those that make them richer, that if you continue to push
us, soon we’ll go over the limit & strike back. And when that
happens, may God have mercy on your soul – too bad there isn’t
one.

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Kill The Fed, Or You Are Dead
The settlement of the embezzlement, the capitalist society.
An occupation of our nation, & everything that we need.
Hospitals & crack houses, only one is run by the State,
We're riding down into the town where liquor & guns mate.
They're so obsessed to oppress the workers & the peasants.
Don't deny, you know why, if you control the past, you control
the present.
Trade in the Vietnamese lives & see what I see,
The Gulf of Tonkin was a lie, a day when we're on our knees.
Look under your bed for the lies that were planted by the Feds.
And when I find you, you better run, because it's off with your
head.

I had written this in order to clarify, not a belief, but a fact that
those in power will do almost anything to get what they want.
Too many claims of the Feds planting evidence or covering up
crimes that were committed. Then we have the fact that the Gulf
of Tonkin was a lie. We ended up finding this out after a report
was declassified & stated that there were no attacks by the
Vietnamese & so the intention behind the war became purely the
act, once again, of imperialism against a once known
Communist rule of merely workers & peasants. Then I also point
out the fact that it’s been known that the state plays into the
transfer of drugs across the border, in which makes its way
within ghetto-like areas. If anyone has seen the movie “Boyz in
the Hood” then you know that what I’m talking about when I say
the character that Laurence Fishburne plays as wasn’t mistaken
when he stated that it wasn’t a coincidence for liquor stores &
gun stores to be on the same block, or just around the corner
from each other. He also made a point where he asked who
exactly is bringing in these liquor stores & gun stores, not the
tax payers money, that’s for sure. But rather the same people
who are bringing in the crack on the streets. The state wants the

P a g e | 68
people of those areas to kill themselves. And for this to happen,
they gladly give a hand for this to happen. None of this is just a
coincidence.

P a g e | 69
Destiny
At the end of the tunnel I can see the sunshine,
If only I could reach it & take back what is mine.
I'm drowning slowly in this systematic failure,
Where were the voices for those within the FEMA trailers?
They tell me to calm down, that everything is alright,
Though I can see freedom shrinking, it's going out of sight.
We've got to let go of tradition, you've got to learn to say
no,
Because the hardest part of holding on is letting it go.
The time is coming, I'm getting sick & tired of your ways,
If we do nothing now there may not be another day.
So follow the light at the end of the tunnel, then say,
That freedom is my only God, & heaven’s by the ocean
bay.
These capitalists think that they have it all,
Yet, here we are, with our heads against the red brick wall.
Do they even care that their system is a problem,
We've got to hurry up & find a way for us to stop them.
And who are these Glenn Beck enthusiasts, anti-communists?
They say I'm the enemy & then compare me to a fascist.
So send all your soldiers, they'll all just get wasted,
Arming up with our fists in the air, our chests are all
vested.
So here we go, you can see us marching over the hill,
Please, just open your eyes, I promise this is for real.
You can try & hold us down, we're an army of Joseph
Stack,
This is how change happens, you can't hold us back.
You think all your workers are all just 'dead peasants'
Well I say come face us right now, come & witness the
present.
You can take our homes, but we'll occupy it back,
For we are about to create history & this is a fact.

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I say it's time for this world to just rewind,
I'm rising up to my feet with Marx & Mao in my mind.
You can call me a dreamer, but at least I know that I can,
The answer may not be a bomb inside an unmarked van.
But if it wakes people up, then I say 'why not'?
I'd rather fight than just sit back & watch the world rot.
You can call this destiny, though it has yet to come,
I'm tired of waiting for the coming battle drum.
If you fill this world with only violence & hate,
Then that'll be our response, that'll be your fate.
Getting down & dirty, you need the mind to build the
bomb,
The time is ticking, so sit back, for you've got to be calm.
We're seconds away from us making history,
We're ready to die for the cause, we're ready for our
destiny.

The meaning behind this one is that those that are fighting for a
better world, those that have nothing else left to lose, this is the
only life they have left. I find myself in a position where, if a
revolution was to start here in the States, then I’d be willing to
give my for the cause, because my life is meaningless compared
to the entirety of life that’ll come about & have to suffer the
same shit we’re going through & possibly worse if we do nothing
about it. I don’t want my kids to live in this type of shit, though
I’m sure they will, inevitably. No parent or future parent wants
that. People need to realize that no change will come unless we
do it ourselves.

P a g e | 71
 March 5, 1960, in Havana, Cuba: Memorial
march for victims of the La Coubre explosion.
On the far left of the photo is Fidel Castro,
while in the center is Che Guevara.

P a g e | 72
Sell Out
The President has spoken, he's another corporate sell out,
Giving the banks, not the workers, the trillion dollar bailout.
All these promises that were made, when will I ever see change?
I still feel like my head is being targeted by the snipers range.
These paid for cruises funded by the taxpayers money,
Americans are so fucking stupid, it's not even that funny.
Is there a reason why the means of production is still owned by
big business,
Am I going to have to go to court to be a personal witness?
Wall Street is a crime scene, they're just as guilty as the Feds,
If I was to blow up an industry it be the private meds.
So tell me, whatever happened to single-pay health care?
It's as if we've brought back the scandalous red scare.
Norman Thomas had it wrong when he said the democrats would
be the socialists,
Because, truth is, both them & the conservatives are theocratic
capitalists.
If I was to ever sit down & look back in history,
I'd say that it was the leading cause for this day's misery.
Hell, what happened to the Armenians justice, of course it was a
genocide,
Are you still under that desk, you think you can still run & hide?
Well here's the problem, sooner or later, you're going to have to
face all the people,
Declaring our independence as we rip down that flag from the
steeple.

This was made strictly to point out the broken promises made by
President Obama. During his campaign, he was perceived as the
working class savior. The call for the working class in getting
more jobs, single-payer health care, the closing of Guantanamo
Bay & the right to a fair trial to every prisoner that was inside
Gitmo, cracking down on the big banks, to bring all the troops

P a g e | 73
back home & the closing of military bases, & to bring peaceful
relations between other nations. At the time, I was a conspiracy
theorist. So Obama was definitely not someone I even paid
attention to much, because I thought he was part of the “New
World Order.” Though, if I was who I am now back then, I
probably would’ve voted for Obama because of what he seemed
to be during his presidential campaign. He practically came in
as a Socialist, but then gained power as a capitalist. Practically
all his promises that he made ended up becoming broken.
Obama has shown the people exactly what happens when you
put all your support & faith into a leader & not the people,
themselves. It just comes to show exactly what needs to happen.
WE need to bring the change we want, not some leader.

P a g e | 74
Know Your Enemy
You've got to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,
This isn't some Godfather shit, I'm not some gangster poser.
I came from an all black neighborhood to an all Mexican
neighborhood,
Some may say that I had it tough, but it was better than those in
white hoods.
Hell, we've got cops over here that are part of the working class,
They got turned into bread men when they got knocked in their
ass.
It's a struggle daily over here, no one seems to be hiring,
All these greedy ass fat cats doing nothing but layoffs & firings.
I knew a cop once that would skateboard & smoke pot,
When on duty he was the best, though that changed when he got
caught.
It just shows how society works, you've got to know your
enemy,
People starving for food, waiting in lines like an assembly.
The enemy aren't the ones robbing banks or selling drugs,
It was the bankers, the managers, the governor, they were the
thugs.
It's hard not be paranoid with all this bullshit exposure,
You've got to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

This is to represent the place that I live in, the neighborhood that
I’ve been living in for the past 16 years of my life. I use to have a
job, but ended up quitting for two reasons, 1) terrible working
conditions, & 2) because I had to stay home the majority of the
time to take care of my mom when she was struggling with her
bulging discs & an infection that she caught. But once I tried
getting back on my feet, back in the work place, I find myself
continuously seeking employment, due to all the firings & layoffs
taking place with no hiring’s to replace them with. I live in a
place where our governor is being investigated for using funds &

P a g e | 75
tax money to go on long trips. A police force that’ll drop any
good cop & replace him for the chief’s cousin. I may not hear
gun shots every second, but that’s the scary part. That means the
people here are taking the shit & doing nothing about it. We
don’t need gun shots or helicopters to realize that I live in the
projects. This entire country is turning into a project.

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Systematically Hidden
You thought you could trick me by creating a fake city named
Marjah,
It was like making me believe in a God similar to Ra.
You've been exposed to all the lies that you have funded,
All these occupations that occurs are against the Communists
you hunted.
This 'Operation Green Hunt' is nothing more than terrorism,
Against the indigenous people that are trying to end capitalism.
You've got these small African children being forced to join the
infantry,
I'll shoot down all these thugs; Be patient Mr. President, I'll be
with you momentarily.
We're now just learning about the secret experiments in the Third
Worlds,
Yet there's still more locked in files, waiting to be unfurled.
We've got the CIA spiking bread with LSD within a French
village,
And there you are, behind the scenes, with all their resources you
pillaged.

I made this to get people to understand that, just because

experiments such as “MK-ULTRA” or “Operation Northwoods”
have ended & are now declassified documents, that it doesn’t
mean secret experiments haven’t been waged & left secret, nor
does it mean that we’re still not conducting experiments –
whether chemical or weaponry – to third world countries. We
just recently learned about how the U.S. government came up
with a fictional city located in Afghanistan, named Marjah,
where we were led to believe that it was an encampment of
thousands of insurgents. Yet, we found out it wasn’t even a city
nor a town. It was a long stretch of land with peasant workers &
farmers. Then we ended up getting information on the possibility
of an open case on an incident that took place in a French

P a g e | 77
village where all its residents went mad & psychotic, that it
could’ve been a CIA experiment when they laced the bread stock
in the village with high doses of LSD. This could’ve been part of
the MK-ULTRA experiment at the time, but we’re still unsure.
But this poem is to merely point out that we’re still not aware of
what happened in our past, & we’re still not sure what is going
on now.

P a g e | 78
Thomas Sankara and Fidel Castro

P a g e | 79
A War-Torn Nation
War-torn faces in war-torn ages,
We're living in lies, we're living in cages.
These people tell me that my lifestyle's just a phase,
Then help me find the end in this war-torn maze.
I've got blood covering my face with all the innocents you killed,
It's a worldwide blood party, & there's no gap left to be filled.
This dominance that you plunder within these occupied lands
Are nothing more than profit to you, I can see your bloody hands.
You think the internet is spreading the support to terrorists,
Well I think history has shown that it was you who funded the
terrorists.
Ever heard of al Qaeda, wasn't it you that funded them?
You may be able to censor history, but you can never censor my
wisdom.
Sometimes I wonder why I ever left my conspiracy theorist life,
Maybe because, with both them & you, I've realized that I've
been lied to twice.
With all the shit you've put me through, in the daylight I may be
nice,
But when the sun falls, you better watch your back, cuz I'm
coming for you with a knife.

This is to merely point out how the war has affected, not just one
country, but the entire world. The loss of resources, the
continual debt, our ozone going to complete shit, & the fact that
thousands of children die from starvation every year. War is
merely a by-product of capitalist rule. So to end this world’s
misery, we need to end capitalism.

P a g e | 80
Third World’s Shaking
In these impoverished lands that suffer through war-torn sands,
The quakes may have broken them down, but there are some
reaching hands.
I can't say that I'm not grateful for the U.S. to take part,
I'm sure they have helped in giving a family a heart.
But I can't help but to notice the money scam in your aid,
Where a third of it is used to help the military's pay.
Why can't you see what's being done by Venezuela & Cuba,
They're giving all that they got to places like Nicaragua.
There's even China & none of the aid is going to the military,
I don't like the idea that those fighting for food are being put in
solitary.
Haiti & Chile, they're suffering from the effects of climate change,
And suffering even more to this day because the system won't
change.
I say we all put our hands together & start rebuilding the third
worlds,
And don't let it be controlled by a system warped & twirled.
How about health care for all, especially for those in Haiti,
And what's not to do? The martial law within Chile.

I made this to give a different look at the problems being faced

right now in areas like Haiti & Chile who both, within just a few
weeks, suffered from devastating earth quakes. Like always, the
countries of Cuba, Venezuela, China, U.S. , etc. put in a hand to
help out. Though, like any good cause by the U.S., it is not
wasted by them, but rather used for other purposes as well. We
ended up finding out that a third of the aid funds put in by the
people within the U.S. was going to military funding as well. And
this was taking place for the aid of Haiti. Right now, in Chile, it
appears that we’re not doing as much for them as we did for
Haiti. Though, Chile is in a state of martial law right now, &
people who are fighting because they’re hungry are being put to

P a g e | 81
jail. So there’s a lot of things going on that needs to end. Places
like Cuba & Venezuela, & even China are putting in as much
help as they can, & without the use of a military nor the switch
of funds.

P a g e | 82
I’m a Radical, Not a Fundamental
Where we're roaming the streets, guns up, locked & loaded,
The enemy are the ones riding Ferrari's painted red, double
coated.
This dominance that filters the air, from D.C. to the Gaza,
Strapped with explosives, c4 in the back of a beat down Honda.
A point of no return, to those that believe, you better pray to
your God,
We've risen up, you can't stop us, we're far worse than a jihad.
This isn't some dogmatic religious bullshit, this is politics,
Unpinned grenade in each hand, wait until you see my trick.
Barging in with AK's, inside, we'll occupy a school,
Though we didn't kill all the children, that shit was from you.
And when you think you've got us beat, when you step through
that door,
I'll press the button & blow us all to the Earth's core.
I'm not afraid to die, this is my dying cause,
While you remain a nervous wreck like women on menopause.
Smile big to the camera, because it's off with your head,
And before you'll be saved, you'll be long dead.

I ended up writing this after I got done learning about the PFLP
(Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine), who I studied on
for a little while. Of course, the PFLP are considered as
terrorists by the U.S. and the Palestinian State, but this is a view
given to any group who shows opposition to the government of
such lands. Fact of the matter is that they’re a Marxist group
who’s been fighting for the working class people, located in
by Gaza & the West Bank, who has been abused & even killed by
Israeli forces & by U.S. imperial forces as well. This poem is also
to the Hamas since them & the PFLP have been talking of coming
together to stand stronger against the Zionist State & the
U.S. imperialists. Also, at the end of this book, I’ll provide a url
for you so that, when you get on a computer, you can go to the

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url provided & purchase a t-shirt in which helps support the
PFLP. ALL of the money used to purchase these shirts will go
directly to the PFLP to help them pay for weaponry,
ammunition, & protective gear. So, please, help them out
through their revolutionary cause by purchasing these shirts &
get other people aware as well.

P a g e | 84
70,000 Palestinians celebrate the 42nd
anniversary of the PFLP

P a g e | 85
Imprisoned Slaves
Who would've ever thought inside the Rome News-Tribune
That we'd ever see the truth be coming out so soon,
That the prisoners are forced to create the clothing of the
U.S. Army,
If it was me, I'd lace it with a bomb - on the news, your
funeral I'll see.
This was published in Atlanta on May 8th of 1994,
And of course, it was in a federal prison called UNICOR.
It was stuck in between all the articles that were written,
It was like they were trying to hide the truth that they were
admitting.
They did this because of profit, why else would they do it?
Fuck all of your excuses, shut the fuck up & sit!
This is all run by the Feds, a privatized slave labor,
Whoever started this, you better hide your name, because I
could be your neighbor.

I’m sure this poem will create controversy since I stated in it that
I would lace the clothing made for the U.S. Army with a bomb &
send it to them. So let me clear this up for you. Me, personally, I
wouldn’t try to bomb the U.S. army, unless they became a threat
to me, but that doesn’t mean others wouldn’t. This poem is
meant to show you the feelings brought to the people’s eyes after
realizing that we’re spending our tax payer money to keep these
prisoners in jail so that they can make clothing for the U.S.
Army. I may be a little lenient with the U.S. Army, but others
won’t & will probably do what I stated in the poem. I also point
out that, when word comes out, then the person whoever started
this should be afraid, because he would spark anger globally to
such an extent that he wouldn’t even be safe to his own next door
neighbor.

P a g e | 86
First World Guerrilla
This is an invasion, an occupation of our nation,
Using monetary inflation against the third world Haitians.
Lock up all the stations, here comes the Salvadorians,
Against the Western front who's controlled the Ecuadorians.
When you hear the CLICK you'll be dead before the BANG,
If it was up to me, I'd make sure that Bush would be hanged
For the war crimes he's committed against our foreign brothers &
sisters,
Bringing down the White House, like if it was destroyed by a
twister.
These foreign drive-by's, tanks shooting down our homes,
These people are being fed to the lions like the Christians of
Rome.
Nationalize & take it over, that's what I want to see,
I'm a reincarnated guerrilla from the triple-c-p.

This was made to represent my feelings, directly, due to how I

live in a first world nation, the U.S. & not a third world country
where things are far worse than here. I find being in a first world
important, not because of better living conditions, but because
we’ve got a much larger responsibility when it comes to the
revolution. The third world nations, in my opinion, will be the
driving force of global communist revolution, in which the first
world nations will be occupied over. But, as a first worlder, I
know all too well the strength of the first world infantry. The
U.S. would do all that it would take to make sure they stayed in
power. So we, first world revolutionaries, need to start taking
initiative out of this & make sure that, when the third world
comes, the U.S. or any other first world nation will be in a state
of condition that it would not be able to keep control. The
revolution is a global effort, & so we all have our part that we
must partake in.

P a g e | 87
Anger is a Gift
We've got to counter-counter-point the points of the
capitalist sympathizers,
Day break & day dawn, the world is now gone,
cheaper than your car's risers.
Jump in the back seat, strap up & mouth blind, let's
create history,
Speak like Luther, but rise up like John Brown, it's
time to end this world's misery.
At night, corruption reeks of self-powered defeat, the
banks are the new mobs,
The sun will rise, but the people's army will rise faster,
even more than the loss of jobs.
If you want to fight, rise up like Paris, if you want to
sit down then you're just careless,
Welcome back to the civil war, if you don't fight back
then you'll be skinned hairless.
The scientists say that I am insane, & then the priests
say that I'm taking God in vain,
Well I say let it rain, it's better with pain, the flag is
now covered with your blood stains.
The streets are covered with the land mines you made,
if only you had destroyed them,
But now they're on our side, & you can't deny that
nothing will be left except your rims.
The world is now a charade, this is more than a parade,
can you hear the voices?
So make your blockade, this is more than a raid, the
streets are now filled with noises.
So watch your steeled trees, go pray to your God, the
guerrillas are coming like Vietnam,
Our anger is a gift, & you'll soon then realize that your
fate will be similar to Saddam's.

P a g e | 88
This was one of my more powerful poems that I had written, in
which inevitably led me to using this poem’s name as the
promoting title of this book. I feel this poem practically just
wraps up all my feelings that I have in one to where I talk about
revolutionary warfare, & the end of capitalism, along with
bringing justice to those that need it & against those that deserve
vengeance. This poem, along with this book, is a mere voice of
millions that feel the same way & know that something needs to
be done, whether peaceful or militant.

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P a g e | 90
Karl Marx (1818-1883)

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Friedrich Engels (1820-1895)

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Vladimir Lenin (1870-1924)

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Mao Zedong (1893-1976)

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Joseph Stalin (1878-1953)

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Hồ Chí Minh (1890-1969)

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Fidel Castro (1926- )

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Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara (1928-1967)

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Kim Il-Sung (1912-1994)

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Charles Darwin (1809-1882)

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Anger is a
Gift

Pt. 2

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The Ghetto Class
From the west side, the struggle is present on the east side,
Gun shots everywhere, here on the streets is where we ride.
Red against the blue, a battle against our own brothers,
Truth remains that we’re the same, we just came from different
mothers.
The Crips & the Bloods, I say that it’s time we just united,
Ghetto rebels against the system, the revolution has ignited.
We all know that, to survive, we must always hold a piece,
But only because we’re here to hold up a life of peace.
The green zone is on the danger zone, crooked cops beware,
Because we’re coming in numbers, lined up in the arms we bear.
We’ve got the working class, peasantry, & now the ghetto class,
If you want to step up & oppress, I promise, you will never last.
If you want to step by the picket line, don’t get in our way,
Another industry will be taken over by the end of the day.
Blowing up the liquor stores with the gun store right beside it,
So lock & load, raise your arms up, the time is now to commit.

Under a correct Marxist definition, the “ghetto-class” would be

considered the “lumpenproletariat”. Originally, Marx showed a
lack of support towards the “lumpenproletariat”, but the conditions
from then and now have changed, and the class struggle has
increased, even to those of the “lumpenproletariat”. It is my wish,
and possibly desire, to see class solidarity develop within that of
the ghetto to the projects. To witness class conscious develop in
the minds of the “lumpenproletariat”. We’ve witnessed in history
the emergence of such class minded groups of people, such as
the infamous Black Panther’s Party. So it’s up to us, the modern-
day proletariat, to start building up the next class-conscious
“lumpenproletariat” today.

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Fight Until I Die
In the land of false dreams & hope, the lands you plundered,
Catholic priests fucking everything they get their hands on.
Marching with our guns in the air, masses in the hundreds,
You say authority’s truth, well like God, I say you’re a con.
With the history of slavery & mass imperial globalization,
You say that Jamal was the enemy, I say it was the fucking cop.
What do you expect’ll happen within this colonial nation?
Me, strapped with a bomb, in the white house, I will never stop.
You might think I lost my mind, that what I say is fucking crazy,
Though, you’d think differently if your only protection was a nine.
We’ve got to rise up & take it all back, there’s no time to be lazy.
Fuck capitalism, I say socialism, just like Einstein.
So this is where we part ways, hopefully we’ll meet again,
I promise we will never stop until, we the people, fucking win.

This was a simple poem that held a simple message of survival.

For those of us in the struggle to never give up. The struggle to us
is something worth dying over, and so we use that will-of-strength
to give everything we’ve got for the advancement of the
proletariat.

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Can You Hear the Battle Drums?
There is no heaven waiting for this guerrilla devil,
I’ll bring you down to hell with me & bring you the next level.
I’ll shove this M4 down your throat & smile,
Have your feet strapped to the back of the car, driving 100 miles.
I’ll make sure you stay alive, this is your destiny,
Hang you on a cross by the White House, I’m making history.
You see all these coffins, well they’re all for you,
I’m not the yin to your yang, if you’re a Nazi then I’m a militant
Jew.
This is not some video game, there is no turning back,
I’ll give you no mercy & this is a fucking fact.
If you’re a white man, then I’m a Latino & a black man,
Bring you more pain than those that you did in the sand.
So go & pray to your God, I promise he’s not coming,
Get down on your knees, it’s either death or you succumbing.
Fear’s your only weakness, I hope you have the balls to come,
Because the last thing that you’ll hear is our fists & the battle
drums.

Pretty much just a poem representing a very militant stance we

take whenever it comes to revolution. But I also wanted to give it
a symbolic view of drums being heard around the world, global
revolution emerging. More so today than ever in history are we
witnessing a rise of global class war emerging on both the streets
of the First World and in the forests of the Third World. And there
is, most certainly, music being heard around the world as we
continue fighting for the struggle. The theme of our ideology – the
Internationale.

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Kyrgyzstan
Man down on the street, bad cop being beat,
Let us show them that we’re rising up to our feet.
Kyrgyzstan, this is the start of a revolutionary symphony,
Communal take over, guns in the air, you can never stop me.
You can kill one man, maybe two, but we’re still coming,
This is the end of your regime, you can hear the bomb humming.
This is freedom & I promise that we’ll never stop,
50 cal aiming to your face, in the distance there you drop.
RPG’s over our shoulders, you better not stop & stare,
We see you running scared, you want to stop us, don’t you dare.
The people’s assembly marching on the streets,
We’re coming at you like Sammy Sosa, we’re bringing the heat.
I see that your leader lost faith to his own country,
Because there we are, guerrilla warfare by each tree.
If you think you got us beat, then meet us in the city,
Armed in the masses, drums beating with our fifties.

Months ago there was a riot that took place in Kyrgyzstan. What
started out small turned into a huge revolution marking all
territory. The people of Kyrgyzstan came out on the streets with
not just signs and flags, but also fully loaded with weaponry –
ranging from AK-47’s to rocket launchers. If the people didn’t
have weapons of their own, then they’d attack the corrupted
police and steal their weapons. Their revolution was in such a
number, and in such solidarity, that the President of Kyrgyzstan
fled the country, leaving it to be taken over by those who revolted.
Although it’s calmed down in Kyrgyzstan recently, the revolution
that took place there was historical and righteous.

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A protester in Kyrgyzstan during the June 2010
rebellion, holding a rocket launcher and a riot
shield.

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Slaves On A Farm
In this farm that I know about a quarter mile away,
There’s a white man, a murderer, enslaving every day.
When I drive by & see the slaves in their cages,
So much poor conditions, they don’t even get minimum wages.
Whips to their backs, beaten down like a pulp,
I wonder if they’ve even heard of freedom & hope.
I can see tears in their eyes when they’re put on the noose,
We all know this is slavery, but they call it a truce.
With their noses being ripped off from their faces,
But there’s more going on, these are just the phases.
Though, the world knows damn well that this is going on,
The farmer plays as a businessman, but we know he’s a con.
So here I go, I’m strapping up in the middle of the town,
About to free the slaves, I’m the next John Brown.
It’s time we struck down all these heartless cannibals,
Because the slaves aren’t humans, they are animals.

Here, I’m taking my vegan morals to express how I view the

struggle of animals. Obviously, when we put them in the
perspective of struggle itself – meaning what exactly they go
through – while we completely disregard the fact that they’re
animals, then we get the perspective of a daily struggle we’re all
going through. The fact that people, instead, disregard their
struggles, and rather pay more attention to the fact that they’re
animals, is where apathy usually begins. Most people don’t
consider animals to be in relation to that of humans – despite the
fact that humans (or better termed “homo sapiens”) are actually
animals. We evolve like every other animal, and so we’re part of
the animal kingdom. Just because they’re animals doesn’t mean
their struggle is any less different than that of our own. And so we
should start recognizing these facts and start fighting for the
animal’s right to live as we do for our own specie.

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Systematic Paranoia
Welcome to the First World where you die indefinitely,
You think your voice is being heard democratically?
It’s these fucking insurance companies, it’s time we burned them
down,
It’s time we struck down these devils, along with their crowns.
You can never come between me, my baby & my family,
Because if you do, then I’ll come for you systematically.
You take my child then I’ll take yours, a picture with a gag & a
gun,
And just in case you’re confused, that’s a picture of your son!
There is no point for me to be on the streets with a sign,
Because I know you’ll stab me in the neck, straight from behind.
You have brought us diseases, chemical warfare, mercury & aids,
I’ll be walking away from your house as its burning light gradually
fades.
How can you say you’re for the people while sitting on your
throne,
Would you think any differently if I came for you with a drone?
You will never defeat me, you might as well pray to Horus,
Because revolution’s in my blood & warfare is my chorus.
Even when Osama brought down the towers, he became your
scapegoat forever,
Using his picture as a reason for you to implement terror.
Well next time it’ll be yours, you will be by every wall,
Forever, looking over your shoulder, I beg you, come & walk in
the dark hall.

Another militant poem where I express using disciplined warfare

against our enemies by making the paranoid. Instead of paranoia
being used against ourselves by using Osama bin Laden for
every even that takes place, we’ll instead paint our enemies
picture and name, giving them a piece of their own medicine.

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Remember the Fight
Attacked with reason, with an M4 to your head,
Against those of treason, don’t close your eyes in bed.
This is where I go & I never return,
Because it’s you in a building with me as we burn.
I hope the devil is keen for surprises,
I’m bringing back a thousand heads, used as my guises.
I’ll take the Zyklon from Germany & come knocking by your door,
Lock you with it in a chamber, you’ll suffer like us, but more.
So come & take my life, it won’t be last you’ve heard of me,
I may be dead, but I will never be voiceless, just you see.
I will never return, this is where I go,
I hope my plane in your building will give you a show.
I want to be Luther, but I’ve got to be Joseph Stack,
Against the upper class who developed the crack.
I’ll shoot down any bourgeois that comes into my sight,
I don’t have to win the war to continue the fight.

The meaning behind this is that, whether we like it or not, there’s

going to be halts to our struggle, there’s going to be losses to our
struggle. We’re not going to advance forward smoothly. And so
we must always keep in mind our struggle and what we’ve gone
through to come this far. To always remember the fight, because
it’s the fight that advanced us forward in the first place.

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Capital
Fixed
Surplus,
One value.
Commodities,
For they are humans.
Exploited within this
Systematic death machine.
Used to create profit values
Then thrown away like a piece of trash.
You should have read the book called “Capital”.

The “Capital” series – 1, 2, and 3 – were great pieces of work by

Karl Marx. In which outlined the economic flaws of capitalism and
what could be better used as a replacement. He went into very
complex detail on how capital actually worked, in all its various
ways, in order for us to understand how to fix said flaws and what
to do in response. Even when it was written in the 1800’s, it’s still
very relevant today in where capitalism is at now, and we need to
do in response. I highly recommend for everyone who reads this
to get yourself a copy of all three volumes of “Capital” and tell
your family and friends about it as well.

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The Communist Revolution
In the more for war, in the land of guillotines,
You’ll never know what I’ve seen, time to take down the fiend.
Soviet tanks out to protect my home, fuck the Nazi regime,
We’ll take you by surprise, guerrilla warfare is what I deem.
Up in arms, late at night, there have been explosive problems,
Cyanide gas on the streets if we refuse to help them.
The Cuban guerrillas forcing the imperialists out of action,
Hold on to your AK’s, because here we go, just don’t lose traction.
We’re coming at you like the Naxalites, hold your ground,
Penny for a pound, shots can be heard all the way from
downtown.
With a plan of escape, come on, it’s us against the U.S. terror
plan,
Taking the battle out of the sand & bringing it back to our land.
You can hold your bibles & you can pray to your God,
Heaven knows, if he exists, then it’s my actions he’ll applaud.
Jealousy, such a petty emotion, so take down that notion,
How about anger, the one we all hold dear against the corrosion.
So go ahead & bend over, go & accept that national peace prize,
We all know that you should have given back the Vietnamese
lives.
So drop to the ground & roll around, hold them down,
Bullets in the air, your head is rattling from the sound.
Medic, it’s over now, we’ve taken out the man with the crown,
Can’t you hear the sound, there’s no need for you to be around.
It’s the cheer of the people, the workers & the peasantry,
Free men & women, up in arms, against the imperial infantry.
So there I am, speaking out, quoting from Marx to Joseph Stalin,
Guerrilla chants from the people, all arms are gatling.
Like a barber, I have a pair of scissors by your head,
You know what I said, you’ll be dead like a U.S. white fed.
This anomaly that is happening, your legs are cramping,
Sickles to the chest, hammers to the head, this is poetry not

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rapping.
The red sun is abroad, our mass tactics, no semantics,
Global warfare, here we go, against the fanatics.
When the commander tells you to shoot down that child,
Turn your guns on him, show him you fight for love, not to be wild.
These dog tags only show the past that I’m fighting against,
Rifles over the fence, fighting for my farm & not to be lynched.
You got nuclear weapons, we’ve got the red army,
This revolution is the mark that you can never harm me.
So say it proud, we are the Communists, raise up the red flags,
They’ll never defeats us, watch them raise up the white rags.

This was merely a poem that I really wanted to do. Expressing my

devotion in the struggle and towards my ideology – Communism.
In which I expressed by giving it a very militant stance of
revolution and struggle. Ranging from various countries, to
various people, to various events.

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 An armed working class march in Venezuela,
declaring support and solidarity towards the
Socialist advancement by the Venezuelan govt.
and direct opposition against US imperialism.

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The Call
Path straight, shot down, cops are on the run,
Guerrilla warfare, guns up, why don’t you come?
This is merely the trailer to our coming feature,
Guns to your face, no school, I’m no teacher.
When I was born in America, I thought I had it made,
But then I learned about the third world, I said fuck fate.
This is not the life that I ever dreamed of,
This is the land where nuclear weapons kill the white dove.
Nagasaki & Hiroshima, you should listen to their story,
Countries blasted, I see no heart, there was no fucking glory.
This planet is doomed, smash the state & leave no room,
The smell of gun powder, to me, is like the scent of perfume.
I was sent to hell but came back, I released my fury,
So gather up, start a riot, kill a cop, right here in Surry.
I’m no murderer, of course I’d save a cop too,
But only if he’s on the side of the people’s view.
I remember when I stabbed your father, he had it coming,
He raped your mom & your sister, if only you saw him running.
There’s a time when justice is beyond the law,
Bodies raw, fighting for the people, can you hear the call?
If Che was a killer, then so was George Washington,
If death brings freedom, then I say let it fucking come.
It’s a new year, change is coming, there we drop the ball,
We riot in the city hall, occupy it, now release the call.

Here I’m promoting the idea of using a “first shot heard around the
world” method of starting revolution. Whether it be of a complete
disaster, or possibly through a huge advancement in our struggle
where we know, for sure, that we’re ready to wage violent
revolution under class solidarity. That when one gives the call,
we, the proletariat, answer the call.

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Debate or Masturbate
There are those who ask for a solution to the patriot act,
How about we throw planes into buildings like Joseph Stack?
Do you feel proud when you’re shipped to fight the rich man’s
war,
How does it feel to be the State’s next corporate whore?
Strings attached to your back, I know that this is a fact,
Instead of snorting coke, you’re smoking state-funded crack.
When you kill abortion doctors, you say it’s genetic tampering,
It’s because you don’t know science, that’s tradition you’re
sampling.
When the capitalists get out of line, that’s when we get in the
front,
Private property & profit, this is not what we want.
I know that there’s a better life & I’m dying because of it,
I’ll burn you & your committee, along with the money you deposit.
This dominance that plunders your mind, we call it conditioning,
Though, you blame it on nature & use our taxes to go vacationing.
They say capitalism works, that there should be no debating,
This is an economic coup d’etat, I say quit the masturbating.
I’m here to free your mind, why can’t you see this is wrong,
I’m like Jesse James, before you take my picture, I am already
gone.
There are no high class mechanics, because there would be no
panic,
Yet, you’re brainwashed to your screen, all I hear is noise & static.
The last that you’ll see of me is when I’m stealing your ride,
Next time you’ll see of that is in a building with a hole just as wide.
At night you’ll get a call, “Tonight, you’ll pay for your lies!”
Next thing you know, you’re on the floor with a bullet between the
eyes.

The meaning behind this poem is the fact that we’ll never move
forward if we keep pretending like nothing’s happening. Whether it

P a g e | 115
be violent through revolution, or under peaceful means, like a
debate, we must start doing something. We should start speaking
out against the clear injustices taking place around the world.
Until we speak up, nothing’s going to change. The events we see
now will forever remain static, and history will always remain the
same.

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Women Deserve a Voice
This is a symphony to all the women who have been beaten,
And this is against all the men, to the women they’ve been
cheatin’.
This isn’t eeny meeny miny mo, you don’t just choose who you’re
sleepin’,
Because if you do, then you’re not worth for her to be keepin’.
If you slap your fist on her eye, I promise, you will die,
Because everything she thought of you was nothing but a lie.
Everything you’ve ever done, everyday she’s on her knees, ready
to cry,
So please, just tell me why, why does she have to die because of
your lies?
When I see a woman beater, I ask, where is law & order?
Where was justice for those who are suffering, why not her?
There is no cause to justify these crimes, she is no martyr,
Whatever happened to the man that said he adored her?
Where was God when she was on her knees, begging & praying?
Feeling hopeless, no one’s coming, it’s as if she’s decaying.
When she’s broke, with a child, the husband says he’s not
staying,
I’m a voice for the women, I know I’m a man, but I’m just saying.

I made this to show my stance towards women’s liberation.

Women have every right to hold the same freedoms as that of
men hold as well. Unfortunately, whether it be politically,
economically, or even socially, women are still unequal today in
comparison to men. Sexism is still a real problem in today’s
society; in today’s culture. Which, in my opinion, in not
acceptable. Women should recognize their lack of rights and fight
for their advancement towards social equality.

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Treasonous Words
These are voices of reason, speaking out or it’s treason,
Strapped with a .45, this happens every season.
Don’t drop what they’re seizing, don’t let them give a reason,
Show them who they’re fucking with, show nothing that is
pleasing.
By the tier bank, lynched necks, children with the weirdest
features,
To us, they are humans, to the Americans, they are creatures.
In the land where little kids are the prey of the preachers,
I have no education because there’s no such thing as teachers.
In my village we are dying, only corporations lying,
Face first in the sand, bullets over my head, there I’m diving.
Can you hear the children crying, something’s wrong when it’s
silent,
And when this happens, we have no other choice but to be
violent.
It is us being hunted, no more voices are being grunted,
Operation Green Hunt, the Communists are all now wanted.
The police are all state funded, wielding batons, heads are
blunted,
The only thing better than a dead med is a U.S. dead fed.
War against Afghanistan, droning innocents from Palestine,
If you push us any further, I promise, you’ll look like Kyrgyzstan.
We’re setting up Iran, giving off false nuclear sirens,
Sooner or later we’ll be free, because we won’t stand for another
tyrant.

Since 9/11, the Patriot Acts 1 and 2 have brought in a new kind of
struggle to our current lives. It is a lot easier to be considered a
terrorist today than it was before 9/11. Why? Because the Patriot
Acts completely redefines the very definition of terrorist. Where, if
you were to merely speak out against the wars, or speak out

P a g e | 118
against the Israeli crimes being committed on the Palestinians,
then you can be considered a terrorist.

I know this for a fact, because I’m a member of a political

organization, known as Freedom Road Socialist Organization –
Fight Back! (FRSO-FB), and just a few months ago, the FBI led
an organized raid into the homes of various members from the
FRSO-FB, and even in the homes of various members of the Anti-
War Committee. Here, just recently, they’re also attacking those
running independent news sites, such as Electronic Intifada,
because of their stance against Israel, and for the Palestinians.
The charges being brought against our groups are claimed to be
on “Terrorism” or “Support of Terrorists”. Our struggle against the
FBI is still continuing today, and currently we’re fighting against
both the FBI raids, the false charges of “terrorism”, and the
sentencing of said members to report towards the Grand Jury –
what differs regular court hearings from that of Grand Jury is that,
under the Grand Jury court hearings, one is not granted a lawyer
to be present. Those being charged have no way of defending
themselves properly. This is why I say that our words, today, are
considered treasonous. That, today, we can now be considered
terrorists for just speaking out against govt. war crimes. So I
know, very well, the risk that I’m taking publishing this book. But
I’m willing to take the risk to tell everyone the truth.

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Let’s Free Palestine
The IDF soldiers with the children’s on their backs,
With a target to their heads, by the pregnant woman’s sack.
White phosphorus, released in abundance, there’s no reason,
If shit like that happened here, it be considered treason.
How do you justify using children as your human shields?
Or throwing pregnant women on a known live mine field?
You can attack the Hamas, & you can attack the PFLP,
Either way, someday, we’ll remain fighting against the theocracy.
You can call us anti-jew, but I promise that is a lie,
Because I know plenty of Jews who want to see a Zionist die.
No matter what you say, you know why I choose to fight or die,
I’m just tired of hearing all of Gaza drop & cry.
This isn’t death to Israeli’s, this is death to the soldiers,
Go ahead & fear us, you better look over your shoulder.
The Zionists are monsters, we the people view you as
Frankenstein,
We’re going to burn you to the ground, we’re going to free
Palestine.

The struggle of the Palestinian’s against the Israeli State goes

past many decades. From when there was once a country known
as Palestine, to when Jewish nationalists decided to use colonial
and imperial methods of creating a State of their own. In which
Palestine became the spot of construction towards the now
known Israeli State. The Israeli’s used such methods like violent
gentrification, foreign-backed violence against those Palestinian’s
resisting (when I say foreign, I mean from France to Britain, to
even the United States), and also through apartheid, which is still
being used today. There are only small areas left held by the
Palestinians, ranging from the Gaza Strip to the West Bank. More
and more countries today are supporting for the recognition of the
Palestinian State, but their struggle is still not finished and have a
long ways to go before their voices are officially heard.

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Nelson Mandela and Fidel Castro

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Don’t Fuck With Us
Release the beast with a piece in the name of peace,
I’m an Iraqi guerrilla & you will never be released.
In the forest, in the tundra, I’m louder than thunder,
If you were an animal then I would be the hunter.
I’m singing in the quire with no desire,
Homes being brought down to beat, ravaged in fire.
The forests in Cali face the same fate, same date,
If God made this world then he gave up, it’s too late.
If you take our materials then we’ll take your leaders,
And if you don’t know FARC then this is for my readers.
Creatures on bleachers, death to the football seaters,
Do they even care about the babies with the weirdest features?
Nuclear blast, the hole in the ground represents the past,
Life’s too fast, spare the rod because I’ll beat your ass.
Your necks in a cast, with the rest in a casket,
Blasted, ratchet to the master, with your head in a basket.
Sharks in the water, politicians talking about the border,
Give ‘em a quarter because this is their New World Order.
It’s not that new, it’s been ruled by the few,
Theorists going crazy because they know their date is due.
When proved wrong they are no longer that strong,
All they care about are theories with symbols on a song.
This isn’t an attack on the conspiracy theorists,
This is against all anti-Communists who think we’re the weirdest.
Can you hear us, fear us, you will never beat us,
And when you think you are winning, there’ll be a bomb on a bus.
You in the back, luck is what you lack, & this is a fact,
Before you pull the trigger, here’s a picture of your family hacked.

Simple enough, a pro-communist poem talking of class war

against capitalism.

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Peace in the Middle East
Bombs up, laugh it up, I’ll show you what to do,
Third world rise up, it’s time for something new.
There will be no peace ’til there’s peace in the middle east,
Feasts to the least, this’ll never happen ’til we release the beast.
Hearts everywhere & bodies everywhere, no caring,
Nothing’s being done, all I see you is staring.
Wearing gold everywhere on your neck, diamonds on your ears,
Africans dying because of bling, their eyes show fear.
Here, I smear your blood on the flag, dancing in circles,
Urkel, the illusion of blacks in the first world, no miracles.
You’re hysterical, lyrical, but your words mean nothing,
Actions speak louder than words, you’ve got to fight for
something.
Hate & dominate, is this really the American’s fate?
I hope they’ll grab the bait, give them the same death rate.
It’s far too late, better fuck your mate, here we come,
We’ve got numbers & guns when all you do is murder & run.

Here I recognize that there’ll never be peace in the middle east

until those suffering from imperial rule fight back violently. I know
to some the ideal “violence=peace” doesn’t quite make sense, but
when one puts in all the conditions and contradictions being
played at out there, one realizes that peace is complete ignored
by those ruling over them. Those struggling are put into a position
where they have nothing left to do but to fight back violently. It
was JFK who once said, “Those who make peaceful revolution
impossible, will make violent revolution inevitable.” And today in
the Middle East, such a revolution is now their only hope of
freedom and independence.

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Still in the Ghetto
Three years in the ghetto & then we get up & go,
But it was to nowhere different, they called it little mexico.
Not as much blasting, but the silence was scary,
Carrie, the girl up the street, popping up the fairy.
Cops are still the same, corrupt & they’re all white,
I use to be a skater, it didn’t stop the blue & red lights.
Threatening me with juvie like I was carrying an uzi,
Writing me up, stepping me up, I wonder why they choose me.
Black shirt, long hair, there’s gotta be a connection,
As if I was selected, it was like the election.
My friend’s dad was shot down just across my road,
Car port coke trade, I guess he went against the code.
Against the flow, to the cops, this is all just a show,
Unemployment checks handed out like dope, nowhere to go.
So what am I suppose to do in this neighborhood?
Leaving’s not an option, because I would if I could.
So this is my message & there’s something I want you to know,
That no matter where you go, you’ll always find yourself a ghetto.
Still though, this is where I make my amends,
Not as much blasting, but it’s still a neighborhood of sins.

Here I’m just pointing out my life today. Although I don’t really
consider my neighborhood as the “ghetto”, but it holds similarities
to that of the ghetto that I lived near when I first lived in Norfolk,
VA. Whether it be crooked cops, or drugs running the streets.
Although there’s very few gun shots to be heard around here, you
still hear the occasional gun firing – and 9 times out of 10, the
conclusion to said gun fire is never good.

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Nam
The death of Saddam was a mistake like Vietnam,
What a con, get it on, occupying cultures of Lebanon.
We’ll rise up like William Wallace, enter the palace,
Death to the opposer’s, they are posers, a catalyst.
Fast wives, dead wife, this is because of your mistakes,
Red lakes, like WMDs, this war is nothing but a fake.
You can never perish this nightmarish dream we call reality,
Insanity is the name of the game, no fame, just normality.
Damn the man, fuck the sand, just as racist as the KK-Klan,
There they ran in unknown land, & I am not a fucking fan.
Kropotkin & Marx talked of a future, it’ll suit ya,
But you’re looters, profit making, gun wielding vultures.
You may hold power but we know that you’re a fucking coward,
Get louder, rip it through the face like phosphorus powder.
Bringing down the towers, why the fuck did we bomb you again?
Thousands of women & children are dying, yet we call it a win.
Next to kin, I know where the president’s been, wake up,
It’s time to shake up, we will never find the holy cup.
Take cover, it’s over, I hope someone finds a four leaf clover,
Earth is our only witness, so we better protect & hold her.

The Vietnam war was a war that represented capitalism at its

finest. Those who have read Lenin know very well that
imperialism is the highest stage of capitalism. When one cannot
create more profits domestically, then they start trying to get
involved in foreign markets to create super profits. Though, one
cannot do that unless there’s a govt. of said country that’s willing
to work with you and your economic ideals. In which, most of the
time, doesn’t work out peacefully. So those trying to run the
foreign markets use various methods to overthrow the
independent govt. – ranging from war, to well funded terrorist
attacks, to economic sanctions. From there, they develop a
puppet govt. operating under the interest of the imperialists.

P a g e | 125
Letting them accumulate “super-profits” from the foreign markets.
Of course, in Vietnam, the Socialist North Vietnamese govt. had
different economic ideals. And so, when the US tried overthrowing
North Vietnam, the North fought back, with the help of some
within the South, to defeat both the US and US-backed South
Vietnamese army.

So today, when I see wars being waged by the US, I see

Vietnam, more or less.

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We’re On The Killer’s Seat
Fifty six children laying dead on the street, dead beat,
Take a fucking seat, it’s time for us & the killer to meet.
So bring the heat, there is no revolution that’ll be neat,
Raise your fists, stand on your feat, we will never claim defeat.
You can try to cheat, trick the poor by giving them wheat,
To them it’s a treat, so is your dead body, hidden fifty feet.
Blood is on the ice sleet, crime scene present on the ice sheet,
Lost in the island of Crete, left alone to be the shark’s meat.

Just a simple poem representing that violence will always be

waged from one class against the other. That’s class for you. One
class will always try to dominate the other through State
oppression. Whether it be through the Bourgeois State or through
the Proletarian State, violence is inevitable. How we use said
violence is what matters.

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No Time
One second, no time, the battle will start with or without ya,
Stay home or fight Rome, on the streets, I’ve got my keffiyeh.
When grenades are in the air, one second’s all you got,
Carry the glock, if you want to survive, occupy the weaponry
stock.
Fists in the air, guns below your hair, only one second,
You better start waving the white flag, a wave of beckon.
Behind enemy lines, it’s as if there is no time left,
Behind those bars, only victims, no murder or theft.
There is no time to pray to your God, you’ve got to get tactical,
Because God will never give you a second, time to be a radical.
A practical revolutionary, holding arms with factual theories,
Socialist economics, don’t waste another second, release the
fury.
The schools aren’t teaching us shit, life is not forever,
Only a second a left, president in a noose, there I pull the lever.
In this revolutionary poetry, I’ve only got a second to rhyme,
The same time when we wage Class War, one second, no time.

The meaning behind this poem was that things go really fast and
one’s first action taken will either lead to great things or terrible
things. So it’s that one second you’re about to embrace that’ll
determine your future, along with everyone else’s. When put into
a position of either firing your weapon or getting killed yourself,
are you willing to pull that trigger, to take that second to survive,
or will you choke up?

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A Daily Life
Can you turn your head around before you hear the rounds,
Sounds of a daily life, you’re either running or on the ground.
Red bodies everywhere, life is just not fucking fair,
If you kill my family then I’ll kill yours, see if I care.
These are the voices that you’ll never see inside the bible,
The gospels of the people, there’s nothing more reliable.
If there is even a God then he gave up on his people,
Where is our fucking Noah, I thought we’re supposed to be equal.
This is a genocide, mercury, nuclear weapons, & cyanide,
This is my diatribe against the civil war homicide.
You’re either riding or you’re dying, can’t have one with the other,
One of us will be dead tonight, I swear this on the grave of your
mother.
Have you ever heard the sounds of the rounds, either up or you’re
down,
I’m a prisoner on the run, being chased by a blood hound.
Knock off the crown with a pistol grip, show no honor,
I know that I am innocent, you’re the one guilty my honor.

Whenever one thinks of class war, one tends to think that it’s the
workers vs. the corporations. Though, fact of the matter is that,
class war is much more than just workers vs. corporations. Class
war deals with everyone being involved. It affects all of our lives,
and puts us in a position where we have to make a choice of who
we stand with – either with the proletariat or with the bourgeoisie.
Whenever you see people being kicked out of their homes, that’s
class war. Whenever you see a bank being robbed, that’s class
war. Class war puts all of us in a position we don’t want to be in,
but that’s class war for you.

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Whether black or white-
united in the fight!
We know
only one race,
We all know
only one enemy-
the exploiting class.

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Get Ready!
Are you positive about the negative consequences,
Banks going wild, but do you know when to pull out the lynches.
Armed, strapped, fuck the system,
You can kill me but you can never kill my wisdom.
More prisoners than Rome, this is a private institution,
Just means more pissed off comrades to release during the
revolution.
It’s as if you’ve cocked the gun & wrote a target by your head,
Looking like an Ash Wednesday pawn, this is for the Feds.
My priority is for the minority voices of the majority to be free,
If you have to kill a cop, kill a politician, this is what we got to see.
The government will try to plot us, they’ll try to stop us,
We’ve got to come together, if we have no fears then we’re
dangerous.
Like the Nepalese Maoists, we’ll rise & take back what is ours,
Good luck in being a paranoid fuck, there are no hours.
You can’t kill the revolution even if you killed a revolutionary,
‘Til death do us part, your death & my gun just now got married.

The poem merely represents doing what you must when

revolution begins. To take whatever measure’s necessary to
advance forward.

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Let’s Get Organized
Chairman Mao showed me the possibilities of a rural revolt,
And the Soviet Union showed me the possibilities of an urban
assault.
I looked past all the deaths & the fact that it was violent,
And I saw the great success that was noble & valiant.
Let’s organize for freedom, fuck the rich, arm the homeless,
Down with the revisionists, truth stands, grab a witness.
This is where we stand, stand up & show what you stand for,
Sickles in the air, hammers in the air, now demand for more.
Organize the community, the community is your family,
Show them what happens when we live freely, down with
calamity.
Whatever happened to me will happen to you, get down with the
cause,
The time is now for revolution, strike now, for there is no pause.

Easy enough, this poem was written to call for mass organization.
No matter where you lived, under whatever conditions, to
organize and revolt. Whether it be by peaceful means or through
violent means.

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Start Swinging
This is a countryside rebellion against the colonial nation,
Everybody’s on the rise, arms against your feudal creation.
Colt M4′s stuck right in the air, mutha-fuckers beware,
This is the workers resistance, come & face us if you dare.
Occupy the schools & occupy the banks, workers take control,
An organized guerrilla army, everybody has their roles.
Speak like Malcolm, stop the singing & start the swinging,
To my people, bring to reality everything that you’re dreaming.
From the ghetto’s to the valley’s, take everything back,
Piece for peace, arms up, don’t be a bourgeoisie hack.
We’ve got to convince the blacksmith’s, we need the weaponry,
Stacking bourgeois corpses by the hill of cavalry.
Do you have a dream like I, I can see it in your eyes,
Step up & stand up, it’s time we ended these fucking lies.
I’ve got peace inside my head, but my heart says revolution,
I’ll fight until I die, because violence is the only solution.

After reading a speech by Malcolm X, I was inspired to write this

poem. What he called for was to end all chatter about revolution,
to end all chatter about our problems, and to actually start doing
something about our problems, to actually start the revolution.

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Like Vietnam
Cowboy’s from the west, strapped in a bullet proof vest,
Bombing us, they can’t stop us, killing with a crest by the chest.
I must confess, I can see their weakness from what they lack,
They get paid to kill us, but we don’t get paid to fight back.
There will be blood, thousands of martyrs by the battlefield,
With the weapons they wield, I can see the children they killed.
I know this is real, & there’s yet more to come,
That’s why we need to fight, death to the imperial scum.
I support the troops, there’s no doubt in my mind,
But if they kill innocence, I’ll make sure they step on a mine.
Can’t you see, it’s just like Vietnam, they want to see us gone,
This is wrong, these imperial wars have gone on for too long.

Like my poem “Nam”, I compare our current global struggles to

the Vietnam war. Where the Western imperialists want to see to it
that those who oppose them are overthrown and controlled.
Though, like the Vietnam war, the Western imperialists will
ultimately fail in achieving said goals of imperial domination.

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Acropolis
Red flags in the air, on the streets, get aware,
Down with the Capitalist powers of Greece, fight, don’t stare.
Acropolis is the symbol for the future of the world,
The birthplace of Capitalism, in the air, watch it hurled.
To the European people, read the sign, you’ve gotta rise,
Destroy everything that was hidden in disguise.
The birthplace of the west has been occupied, this is a fact,
Despise the reprise of a Capitalist world, you’ve gotta fight back.
What they lack is the fact that we have the majority,
They can keep their empire, because it is now of the minority.
Glory to the story that our voices are being heard,
Anarcho 08, their failure is what we learned.
But don’t stop here, the world is still in a terrible shape,
Exploitation & crime are on the rise, pull out the yellow tape.
What you hear on the streets is the voices of the people,
This is our message, we’ve now occupied the capitalist steeple.

In Greece of 2010, a massive riot took place where both

Anarchists and Communists alike rebelled in all areas of Greece.
The popular Communist Party, the KKE, that day led a march and
occupation of Acropolis. The symbolism behind this occupation
was that Acropolis was seen as the “birthplace of capitalism”. And
so, the KKE held red flags all across Acropolis and covered the
front of it with a sign calling for all of Europe to rise up against
capitalism. It was a memorable day in Greece, and a very
symbolic message for all of European Communists.

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 Members of the Communist Party of Greece
(KKE) on top of Acropolis, protesting against
the austerity measures and calling for all of
Europe to rise up.

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Equalize & Mobilize
There are chambers in this land with political prisoners,
We’re slaves to the markets with negative integers.
You wake up every morning with the feeling in your stomach,
That everything’s falling apart, that’s when we say fuck it.
I’m occupying the streets with my nine & my fitty,
The American dream can be seen when the streets are gritty.
This life that I live, you better take a fucking seat,
You punk muthafucker, with a badge, getting beat.
Don’t ever take me wrong, I’m not a man of war,
But if you ever fucked with me then I’ll strike you to the core.
With a little click, clack, & bang, you will never stand up,
Bleeding out on the street, you better have an extra cup.
But when they get you, strike you, take you to the station, don’t let
‘em,
Just tell them they’ve gotta chance to help you destroy the
system.
Amend them from their sins where they attack their own people,
Because it’s time to rise up, organize & be equal.

Another poem calling for organizing. To not take in everything

happening to you and disregard it like it’s nothing. Confront your
problems under unity with fellow comrades. Organize and rise up.

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The Capitalist Dream
In the land of the free, we are free to compete,
Where our soul’s a commodity, half price on deceit.
Get your feet together, get the beat together, listen to this rhyme,
Because slaves were profitable, & so was your mom,
prostituting all of the time.
Get your penguin suit & put it on, show exactly who you are not,
You may gain the buck, you may get your ride,
but that coke still makes you rot.
Here we’ve got the 5-0, so don’t you worry,
they are here to protect,
For their white race, & when they get caught,
they go crying to the mayor-elect.
Welcome to Arizona, if you are white then you are allowed,
But if you don’t have your papers, better blend in with the crowd.
So go to the movies with your girl, show her how to have a good
time,
But if you see a hobo starving on the street,
don’t feed him ‘cuz it’s a crime.
Go get that promotion, put on your khaki’s,
suck on your bosses dick,
Now don’t you stop, he’s got you by the neck,
to be rich you’ve got to be sick.
Can’t you see that this is the American dream,
the first thing you sell is your soul,
Capitalism helps you build your own grave, while you dig up your
own hole.

Just felt like writing a poem about capitalism and what it does to
us, working class. How capitalism exploits those who put in all
their labor force just to earn a wage – a wage I might add that isn’t
even properly the right amount to that of how much labor they’re
putting in to make the commodities being sold.

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International Solidarity
Drop the bomb off the market, watch them run & squeal,
Give them distraught & panic, show them exactly how we feel.
We don’t fall for that cheap labor, minimum wage, class trap,
Fuck with us & the last thing you hear is the sound of your neck
snapped.
The C.E.O.’s think they know how to run the entire industry,
Tell that to the worker’s strike, demanding an end to the misery.
History shows us what happens when fat cats control the State,
Yet we grab the bait, face the same fate on a new date.
Don’t you hate it when they tell us how to live our own lives?
Yet they change their minds when we chase them with sickles &
knives.
So just drive them out of town & get ready for another round,
Speak loud to the sound, show them we’re ready & abound.
Take their limo’s to the front door & strap them with some C-4,
And when they close the door, watch that cat fall to the floor.
We, the workers, demand for more, it’s time to run this
systematically,
We call for workers solidarity, guns in the air internationally.

This poem was made to call for all workers to rise up in unity
against the corporations exploiting them. To take a militant stance
against the capitalists and rise to power.

“Nationalize the industry and take it over.” ~ Immortal Technique

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Who’s the Terrorist?
When they black bag your head & tag you with an orange suit rag,
They treat you like a threat forever, an Eastwood with his mag.
You’re a fag from Cali & a Latino from Arizona,
They’ll black bag your ass if you’re caught drinking corona.
If you speak of Socialism then they label you as a Nazi,
You’re a terrorist forever in the eyes of the U.S. stasi.
If you commit kamikaze then you must be part of the Taliban,
I guess that’s why, when I think of the U.S., I think of the Klan.

The US is so quick to call those immigrating to the US as

“terrorists” or “criminals”, especially by the right-wing, yet they
never seem to point out the real terrorists. The one’s waging
imperial wars against foreign countries, the one’s waging
systematic terror against both the Latino communities and the gay
communities. This year we’ve seen the rise of suicide within the
gay community in schools, due to a mass increase of anti-gay
bullying. Yet neither the school board, nor the State is doing
anything about these known bullying occurrences. If there was a
murder charge being held in court, and there was someone who
knew what was going on and didn’t stop it, that person would be
charged as well. So why are we not charging the criminals here
as well?

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The Proletarian Struggle
Setting forth the rise of the workers industry,
Rise up, don’t back down, this is a proletarian’s destiny.
Crack down & wrap up the crime scene on the streets,
By the police, knocking heads with batons like a heavy metal
beat.
Take a fucking seat, the movie is about to begin,
And when the bombs start dropping, attack like Lenin.
When you see me, don’t worry, I am not a threat,
But the masses behind you will chase you down ’til you sweat.
We were once a superpower, Stalin made it, Khrushchev faked it,
The illusion of a true Soviet leader, faker than Pamela’s tits.
We’ve got the Trots, the knots of the proletarian struggle,
Grab the front lines, point it to his face with a muzzle.
Huddle the ball in the air, watch them stare, point the gun below
the hair,
This is truth, fuck Alex Jones’ cremation of care.
And when the bosses take back their seat, don’t be nice, don’t be
neat,
Let the proletarian struggle rise back to its feet.

A poem merely representing the ongoing struggle, how the

struggle never dies. We, the proletarian class, will continue the
struggle until victory.

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Some Of Us
There are some of us who are living inside of a bubble,
And then some of us are living everyday in the struggle.
There are some of us who don’t even have to pay our own rent,
Some of us, our homes were evicted ‘cuz our deadline’s never
sent.
There are some of us who can afford a brand new sports car,
For some of us, we have a dumpster by our box that isn’t too far.
There are some of us who go to grand buffets & waste,
Then there are some of us starving, can’t you see our bulging
waists?
There are some of us who are wasting money in the trillions,
And then there are some of us who our people are dying in the
billions.
There are some of us, like you, who don’t even have a fucking
care,
And then there are some of us, like me, who see’s this world isn’t
fair.

A poem pointing out the clear class contradictions and

antagonisms being played out. There’s those of us within the
struggle, and then there’s some of us causing the struggle.
Apathy is a popular social disease here in the US. And it only
harms those of us in the struggle, rather than help.

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Die Standing Up
What is this monster that we call the U.S.,
How the fuck are we going to clean up this mess?
Are you going to run away, are you going to be a coward,
Or are you going to fight back & take back what is ours?
We’ve gotta rise up & grab the lights of our history,
And then replace the dark of our present misery.
Are you the regime of Arroyo, are you a Fed with a wire?
No hope, no heart, there is no peace you desire.
How are you going to clean this town, you aren’t the Sheriff,
‘Cuz I shot him down back when he decided to steal the tariff.
Clenched steel, on the ground, strapped with explosives,
I await the infantry, releasing something so corrosive.
So don’t blink ‘cuz that’ll be the last thing you’ll do,
You better check yourself & realize, ‘cuz here comes the cue.
I’d rather fight for something real, fuck the fighting overseas,
I’d rather die on my feet than to keep living on my knees.

A simple message of not conforming to the capitalist’s view of the

world and how we should live our lives. To stand up against the
oppressors and actually fight for a real cause. To stand up against
their imperialist wars and against their capitalist domination over
all workers worldwide.

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The New People’s Army, armed wing of the
Communist Party of the Philippines (Maoist)

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A Harper’s Ferry Reunion
Welcome to Washington D.C., this is a Harper’s Ferry reunion,
I’ll go John Brown on your ass, this is the rise of the people’s
union.
A communion of blacks & whites, the third world against the first,
It’s time we start fighting for those starving & dying of thirst.
If the first amendment doesn’t work, then I’ve always got the
second,
And if you don’t give our people freedom, then your life’s over I
reckon.
They salvage our lands, plunder our fields, they’re killing in the
name,
Of their god, dear old Mr. green, I’ve got an answer to your fame.
Release your fury, show them now & write it on the walls,
Pick up that gun & don’t stop fighting, don’t let them make you fall.
The tea-klanners of this nation will burn down with their flag,
And when we march, you’ll hear the sound, it’s us against the
badge.

I’m a huge supporter in the historical martyr John Brown. He led a

violent resistance of black slaves against the pro-slavery South.
Although his rebellion was unsuccessful, his willing to be the first
white guy to stand up against his own color to free the slaves of
the South was a historical marking in history, and is still seen in
great remembrance today. Of course, there are those today who
would like to see the likes of John Brown be painted over as some
ultra-violent quack. I cannot accept this distortion in history, I,
instead, see John Brown for what he really was – a martyr
towards the revolutionary struggle of black liberation.

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You Were a Terrorist Too
Have you ever looked in the eyes of a child dying,
Have you ever looked in the eyes of a jihad flying?
Have you ever tried looking at the views of their minds,
Or are you stuck with the lies that have filtered you blind?
Did you ever ask yourself why the buildings were falling,
Have you ever asked yourself why they fight, even after the
bombing?
Can you just stop for a second & think of what you are doing,
And ask yourself why we fight, even when you know we are
losing.
What is wrong with this world, we’re being run by enslavers &
liars,
You say that we’re all free, yet you listen through a wire.
The British empire called you terrorists because you killed for
freedom,
So why call us terrorists when we’re fighting for the same fucking
freedoms?

I always found it ironic to see the US call everyone who resisted

against them or against their own country who’s in close relations
with the US as “terrorists” when, in fact, the US was considered
terrorists for the same exact reason during the American
Revolution. It was those of the US who fought, died, and killed for
their independence and freedom. So how do we have any right to
call those doing the same thing as “terrorists” when we know what
they’re going through? Hence, North America’s hypocrisy.

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We Are Guerrillas
I’m like a cramp in your neck, I’m hard to kill on the battlefield,
An AK is all I wield, it’s your platoon that I had killed.
Like on the cotton fields, we’re like the blacks who killed the
South,
And if you’re lucky, you might survive with just a busted mouth.
Past this logic, grab a gun & cock it, armed like a million man
stock,
You can hear the rumble a mile away, that’s the sound of the
workers flock.
When you hear the knock, get armed & ready, they’re here to kill
us,
Just don’t be scared, we will never die, we are guerrillas.

I’m a huge supporter in guerrilla warfare. It’s one of the most

successful types of military tactics held by revolutionary groups in
third world countries. Because of said military tactic, the Maoists
in Nepal, India, Philippines, etc. are leading successful revolutions
against their oppressive capitalist State.

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This Is How We Dance
When police patrol the streets, our feet is taking over higher feats,
Giving them a new beat, like Sammy Sosa,
you’ve gotta give them heat.
Hotter than the bomb that went off in your house,
quieter than a mouse,
All while I’m making your bitch aroused as I lift up her blouse.
This is the apocalypse, there will be more than a bunch of busted
lips,
So I say put your fists high, reach for the damn sky,
faster than a new eclipse.
Your bullets can never touch this shit, I’m just like the terminator,
Can you hear the generator, bombs off, now go see your creator.
I am the liberator, putting craters on the ground with bombs,
time to die,
Light it up, throw it in the fucking sky, just like you’re getting high.
Crazier than Charles Manson, & smarter than shit like Marilyn
Manson,
Fuck the rich & arm the homeless, it’s time we lit up & blow their
mansions.
So here’s the ransom, lay down your arms & liberate our fucking
people,
That is us on the steeple, missiles at the ready,
it’s time we became equal.
You feeble minded fuck, there’s never been any luck,
I don’t give a mother fuck,
You’re between me & the bomb, here we go,
I’ll make sure your life will suck.

Another poem talking about revolution and class struggle.

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The People’s Experiment
You better pray to your God, because we’re coming like the
Hezbollah,
Beaten with a broken jaw, rip to pieces with a broken saw.
You gnaw ‘cuz you have no teeth, stay still, no looking beneath,
Underneath you is the bomb that’ll light you more than a
christmas wreath.
Down in the alley, darker than the burnt trees of Cali,
There is a resistance being formed with the help of the valley.
There is no Jack & Jill that is running up that fucking hill,
Rather a gas filled barrel, engulfed in flames, rolling down to kill.
We’ll use you as wool like you do to the animals,
The world is like Hannibal, run by a bunch of cannibals.
If you whip those bulls then we’ll bring your life a purgatory,
The people’s life is a mandatory, which we’ll kill you for that glory.
I may be a vegan, but I’ll kill you if you fuck with me,
Let you sink in the sea, that is the punishment for tyranny.
Where the sharks will eat the sharks, I hope you don’t object,
This is the people’s experiment, & guess what, the system is the
subject.

Instead of the capitalist experiment, which we’re facing today and

know very well is a complete failure, I call for the people’s
experiment. For the emergence of a socialist economy, where the
working class own the means of production, instead of the
bourgeoisie.

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The Cheonan Incident
In the seas of two bodies with their feudal hands stricken,
One runs from lack of wisdom, the other defends itself against the
system.
With ships splitting in two & no bombs are to be found,
With the hearing of no sounds, they’re being blamed by the
crown.
Strike them to the core, demand answers & nothing more,
Against the shucklaks who are waging a body of war.
Use the Gulf of Tonkin incident to understand their plans,
It’s just a made up story that was well funded by the Man.

On March 26, 2010, a South Korean vessel, known as the

Cheonan, was sunk, leading to the deaths of 46 SKorean sailors.
Soon afterwards, the SKorean leadership automatically claimed
that North Korea was behind the incident, that NKorea sunk the
Cheonan with a torpedo. Of course, this was only claimed, and
still is claimed, by both SKorean leadership and US leadership.
Though, when you ask the experts and military officials of
SKorea, you get a different story. Fact of the matter is that they
neither detected a torpedo, nor a NKorean submarine vessel
during the time of the incident. This officially declares the
innocence of NKorea from any charges. But despite mass
evidence of the Cheonan more plausibly being sunk by a possible
mine, the SKorean leadership continues to this day in blaming the
NKorean’s for the incident.

To get a better analysis on this story and the facts behind the
incident, then I highly recommend you reading the article, “The
sinking of the Cheonan: Another Gulf of Tonkin incident” by
Stephen Gowans. You can find it on his blog, called “what’s left”.

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Fuck Meat, Be Healthy
Fresh oranges in the trees, ripe vegetables in the garden,
You don’t need meat to keep yourself un-starving.
I’ve got my e-cigarette, no real cigarettes, maybe ganja,
My materials are made of hemp, & no, not marijuana.
I use to be a fat kid, but now I’m stepping it up,
Water is my fluid every day, no city water, eight daily cups.
I don’t want three kids or more, one or two is fine by me,
We’ve got to think about the environment, be what you wanna
see.
It’s time we became healthy, revolutionize your dietary choices,
And no praying to God, it’s not healthy for your head to have
voices.
If we want to change the world then we must first change
ourselves,
Fuck television, start reading those books on your shelves.
Just be careful what you do when you’re cooking that stew,
You don’t want to lose any valuable minerals.
As a human being I don’t want to be rich or wealthy,
My wealth is being a Vegan, I say fuck meat, be healthy.

Of course, me being a vegan, I’m going to at least write one poem

about eating vegan food instead of animal products. I’ve been a
vegan for over 3 years now, and I’ve never felt as healthy as I am
today. I’m proud of my decision and hope everyone else makes
the same decision as I made as well.

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Can You Do What’s Right?
Have you ever been conflicted with the cold pain inside,
The night you watched a cop rape a bitch, with no law to abide.
You knew you couldn’t attack him, your life is in his hands,
To them you’re nothing more than a product, a non-expiring
contraband.
As you watched him beat her & rape her, you ask yourself, “What
is law & order?”
And from that very night, your mind & heart just grew colder.
You may think you’re rising to the top, but you’re only falling
down,
You’re conforming to death, all because you want to wear that
crown.
But don’t get me wrong, I understand where you’re coming from,
Alone every night with yourself with a bottle of rum.
At the age of 16, you find yourself on the streets selling crack,
Thinking you have a chip on your back, but you don’t, & this is a
fact.
Because “only the cold hearted people can make it in life”,
Is that what they told you as they threatened you with a knife?
What’s more of a problem is that your brother looks up to you,
Your mom thinks of you as a saint, I guess she didn’t know you.
Or maybe you didn’t know yourself, all you care about is fortune,
You became the sole reason of why women have an abortion.
How could any parent want their kid to live in this cold hearted
world,
They would only be throwing their life away, in the air, being
hurled.
I know it’s a dangerous world, & it’s corrupted your mind,
You think you’re living the life as you snort that line.
But you know you’re still not colder than that cop you saw,
So you decided to find a bitch & show her that your heart is raw.
Beating her & raping her, you’ve got your hand covering her eyes,
Because you know you can’t look at them, you know your life is a

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lie.
And when you got done, you decided to look at her face,
You now thought you were cold, you thought you are now with the
pace.
So you take yourself home, but you find your mom by the front
door,
There she sees the blood on you, so she cries, falling on the floor.
You finally realize what you’ve done, you think back at what you
saw,
You picture your mom being that women that you showed who’s
raw.
It might’ve not been her, but she could’ve been somebody’s mom,
But this was just a piece of your life through an eternity of wrong.
And believe me, she took it to heart when she called the police,
Because she knew you were no longer a saint, just a guy holding
a piece.
Though it’s the same piece you were holding on that first cold
night,
Watching him beat her & rape her, if it was me, I’d fight.
So don’t fucking call me a criminal when I refuse to stop,
Because I know I’ll save more lives when I shoot that cop.

I wanted to make a story-like poem for a while. That’s where this

one came in. Especially a story with a moral behind it. In which, in
this story, I talk about a young kid who witnessed a police officer
raping a young woman. Of course, given the power that police
dominates over civilians, he knew very well what would be in
store for him if was to attack the cop, let alone try and kill him. So,
instead of doing the right thing, he realized the dominance the
police officer held and wanted to rise to power himself as well.
This led him to a “life of sin”. Of course, he knew he couldn’t be as
cold hearted as the cop was until he did exactly what the cop did
as well, which was to rape an innocent woman, to show that he’s
the dominant one. To make a long story short, he finds himself in
jail, because his mom called the cops on him herself, realizing
what he did. Instead of doing the right thing, which could’ve led to

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him being framed or lost his own life as well, but in the long run,
more lives would’ve been saved. That woman he raped would’ve
been safe. So his action of not taking a stand against a higher
authority led him to harm more lives than save in the long run.
The moral of this story is to always do the right thing, no matter
what may be in store for you in conclusion. Even if that means
having to kill a cop to save an innocent life.

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March to End Violence Against Women, Maipú,
Santiago, Chile, Nov. 25, 2010.

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You Can’t Keep Up
There’s no lights at night, there the homeless declare a fight,
More numbers than Hunan, faster than flight, going out of sight.
Faster than the buck the rich slips, or us packing clips,
Taking over the rich bitch, faster than a waiter stashes tips.
One bullet to the bank & two more for the cavalry,
Three bombs to the tanks & a thousand to the military.
Not even solitary confinement can keep this beast chained,
I’ll treat you like I’m Cain, & to this world, I’m mundane.
Fuck the fame & fortune, the rich live a life of coercion,
A life of distortion, I’m better off with a life like a Salvadorian.
We may be poor, but when compared to money, there’s more,
We’ve got our wealth, that’s life, while you act like a dirty whore.
Sucking off that cat’s dick faster than you can say layoff,
All for an extra payoff, oh & by the way, don’t cough.
This is a full face off, the poor is dominating the rich,
Lights out, pull the switch, & to that snitch, your mother’s in a
ditch.

No matter how much the capitalists will try and hold back the
proletarian struggle, we’ll always push forward towards our
victory. As Karl Marx pointed out himself, capitalism will inevitably
fall. There’ll always be a transitional period of advancement.
Whether it be the advancement from feudalism towards
capitalism, or from capitalism to socialism, or from socialism
towards communism. The capitalists will never keep up with our
revolutionary advancement.

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The ABC’s of Revolution
An addiction acts as an adamant atrocity,
Bombers blowing back anti-black bigotry.
Charging crooked Cesar’s, crushing the cavalry,
Deception’s dividing disillusioned democracies.
Economic eulogies exasperating efficient energies,
Financial fakers fucking freedom financially.
Gold grabbing green gangsters, like Gomorrah genetically,
Haters hating half heritage, honoring fake history.
Ideals instigating irrelevant international industries,
Justifying jihad justice, social justice justly.
Killing Klansmen, keep knocking knots kinesthetically,
Letting liars live is like letting loose larceny.
Murdering mistrial men, Mumia mounting melancholy,
Nights never need narcissistic neo-nationality.
Obedience only opens optimistic obscenity,
Parading policemen & patrolmen, people pushing patiently.
Quit quartering quasi quitters, & question quickly,
Remember Russia’s revolution, red’s rioting rationally.
Stop setting sequels, start striking seriously,
Tomorrow’s time’ll turn, taking down taxed thievery.
Undermining useless under-goers, unitizing unilaterally,
Verifying visceral venal vice, valiant’s varying violently.
War waging wolves, waving white flags wrongfully,
X-raying xylographic xeric’s, profiling xenophobically.
Youngsters yelling Yahweh, killing Yankees yearly,
Zero Zionists left, zany zones blown zestfully.
This is the ABC’s of revolution, can you hear me,
Or do I have to show you myself, can you hear the infantry?

This was one of the most fun poems I ever ended up writing. To
write a poem about the proletarian struggle and class war through
alphabetical rhymes. It was difficult, and also very time

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consuming, but it was really fun writing, and definitely earns a
spot in this book.

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You Are the Disease
You like to blame the homosexuals for spreading disease,
Well how about when you dumped toxins in the fish-filled seas?
How about when you put Katrina survivors in those FEMA trailers,
With no help to abide as they die, left with only inhalers.
What about those intoxicated vaccines that you stuck in our arms,
Telling us not to worry, that these legal drugs will do us no harm.
What about when you let Chevron’s daily oil spills go with no
word,
Letting the Nigerians suffer, this is fucking absurd.
How about the fact that you let the firefighters of 9/11
Remain ill-infected from your lies until they go to heaven?
I can’t help but see a problem when the government shows no
care,
Or the fact that we have yet to give our people free healthcare.
How about when we nuked Japan & turned their children to
monsters,
Turning them into elephant men, not even loved by the fosters.
So don’t fucking tell me that disease is created by us,
It all came from you because of your love for money & lust.

One of the main defenses by those upholding capitalism is to

push the blame of catastrophe’s or environmental disasters
towards the wrong people, when in fact it was themselves who
are to blame. When we talk about New Orleans, we don’t ever
hear about where FEMA ended up infecting innocent people with
their intoxicated FEMA trailers that was built for those who
survived hurricane Katrina. We don’t ever hear about the daily oil
spill by the Chevron oil company in the Niger Delta, killing off
thousands of sea life per year, which only detrimentally affects
those living within the area. When we talk about 9/11, we never
hear about where the First Responders (9/11 firefighters) were
infected with fatal diseases due to the intoxicated air during the
day of 9/11. Why? Because it was our govt. who told them that

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the air was safe to breathe in. The 9/11 firefighters believed in the
govt’s. word and found themselves infected. In which, they’re still
fighting to this day for the govt. to provide them adequate health
care for their illnesses, in which the US govt. refuses to pay for. If
we want to point out the real disease, look no further than your
own govt. and private corporations.

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A New Kind of Worker’s Strike
In the back of the kitchen, there stirs a heavy commotion,
The boss & the managers showing their deepest emotions.
With them tied up & gagged to their lying-spewed mouth,
Treating them like we did to the Klansman south.
“Our wages are low & yet you’re wanting more labor?,
You’re a lucky muthafucker that I’m not your neighbor.
Please tell me why my labor brings you $350 a week,
Yet I’m only paid $100, even when I act like a meek?”
The consumers in the front are screaming & yelling,
Demanding for their money back ‘cuz we are not selling.
Well, we’re screaming with you people, where is our wages?
We’re tired of living life like an animal, living in cages.
The bosses fail to deliver what is owed to the workers,
At one time we’d let you, even when we’re flipping the burgers.
But now we’re tired of being exploited, can you hear our voices,
And to the consumers in the front, don’t fear the noises.

Worker’s struggle can come in all shapes and forms. In which, I

point out another way in this poem. For the workers to occupy
their workforce and starting showing the bosses who the real boss
is – the workers!

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This Is For All My People
This is for all the mothers who are single with children,
This is for all my ancestors killed by the pilgrims.
This is for all the workers who can’t keep their bills paid,
This is for all the children killed by a police raid.
This is for all the Palestinians who are killed by the Zionists,
This is for all my activists that continue to resist.
This is for all the animals who are tortured for profit,
This is for all the gay veterans who remain in the closet.
This is for all the guerrillas that are fighting for justice,
This is for all my people when this earth becomes sunless.
This is for all the bosses when I spark this blaze,
Because you’re about to witness the end of your days.

Class war affects all kinds of people, in such diverse areas. I

wanted to write this poem to recognize all those being exploited or
harmed due to said class struggle. Whether it be of the homeless,
or those fighting against their own state, to the gay community
fearing to reveal themselves within the military, to even the
animals who are treated very poorly, especially through factory
farms.

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Is This A Rap Battle?
Rhymes weaker than your party, only laughs by McCarthy,
I bet you & your party, when banks blow up, gets a hardy.
Your nefarious plots are weaker than anti-State boycotts,
Living alone in a cot, paranoia from being caught.
Excuse me if I don’t fall for your individualist narcissism,
Between yours & mine, I think I’ll stick to “elitist cynicism”.
Your criticism only matches of those who are anti-communist,
Crying from your failures like an emo with a slit-wrist.
Bleeding longer than the survival of Catalonia,
Crying like an Estonian about how the Soviets saved Estonia.
You see, the workers are in control, your blinded by paranoia,
Leaving holes in your plots like if we were the 1970 Sumeria.
Your molotov cocktails are cute, but the Red Army is better,
Just one look at our solidarity will make your beds wetter.
The only thing your party is good at is attacking Leninism,
Between that & your views, I would just stick to criticism.

This was actually a random poem that I had written a few months
back. On this political forum called RevLeft, there was a “rap
battle” going on between Marxists and Anarchists. Me being a
Marxist wanted to get involved, facing off against one of the
Anarchists, in which became the poem you read above. I felt
pleased with it, so it found a spot here in my book.

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Paper Tigers
Opposing the motion of the proletarian corrosion,
Is the notion that we will not revolt in motion.
Occupation & revolution is a contradictory matter,
A chatter between your words & guns, I’ll choose the latter.
The institution of your oppressive constitution
Will realize that it’ll never last through revolution.
The fusion of the peasantry opposing the heresy,
You’ll never see fear in me, bring on your world war 3.
Your imperial forces will not scare us to submission,
It’s our vision that will bring success to our mission.
A collision of wars between two revolutionary forces,
Just against unjust, until we succeed in said divorces.
The courses in front will only create a stronger army,
This is class war, the development of a revolutionary party.
Your forces may look strong, but you’re tigers made of paper,
We are the Robin of the hoods, we are revolutionary capers.

I was inspired to write this poem after reading Mao Zedong’s “US
Imperialism is a Paper Tiger”. In it, he went into detail about the
difference between the real tigers and the puny “paper tigers”. I
truly recommend everyone to give this a read. You can find it
online for free through The Marxist Archive.

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Mao Zedong studying the writings of J. V. Stalin
in the Yenan base area during the Chinese
Revolution

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The Shackles Are Breaking
This world’s of dynamite like the ones I hid below your car,
Shackles around my wrist, striving to follow the north star.
The first world working class may live a life being oppressed &
hampered,
But they still exploit the third world, being run by a bunch of Jesus
Campers.
That’s what these rhymes are for, spreading the truth of
hypocrisy,
Like when we bombed Afghani citizens, while claiming it’s for
democracy.
You can be a fake spic, pro-imperial, like the Dalai Lama,
Or maybe the whore of a fake politician, Sarojini Ballah.
You can cross these lines, like a cop, you will be mine,
I follow under guerrilla tactics, locked & loaded on the front lines.
Attacking from the trees, you will never see, striking like the
Vietcong,
If I’m to die, I’ll take you with me, unpinned grenade with an
explosive song.
If you want to represent, then this is what you have to do,
Betray your class, betray your nation, even if you’re of the few.
Lick the barrel of a .50 in your mouth & kiss your ass goodbye,
A global riot, nothing’s quiet, until I’m ready to die.

To make something clear right quick, I am not affiliated with

“Maoism-Third Worldism”, nor do I uphold their reactionary views.
Under “Maoism-Third Worldism”, those affiliated to it view the
First World working class as “pro-imperialists” and not proletarian
material. They instead wish to see those of the Third World form a
global revolution against everyone within First World nations. This
also includes those of the proletariat within the First World as well.
So I do not uphold such views.

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Instead, in this poem, I recognize the more difficult struggle those
of the Third World go through every day when compared to those
of us in the struggle within the First World. Reason behind the
naming of this book as “The Third World”.

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The Fourth World War
Industries are occupied, all our fists are in the sky,
Hold it up, keep your stand, show them you are ready to die.
Systematic overthrow, this is now the people’s show,
Light the sky with the flames, show them we will never go.
Big cities, rural land, the people’s boundary never ends,
Grab your arms, throw your rocks, show them that we’ll always
win.
Together we will cooperate, build us a collective state,
People rise & you will die, this is Capitalism’s fate.
A global fight in the night, replace the wrong with the right,
Grab your gun & aim it down, keep the bourgeois in your sights.
Fuck your profits, we don’t want it, we know there is something
more,
This is the fourth world war, are you ready for civil war?

I was inspired to write this poem after watching a documentary,

called “The Fourth World War”. It gave out video coverage of a
global anti-capitalist/anti-imperialist resistance rising up
worldwide. Whether it be in Third World countries or First World
countries, the global resistance is under the same banner of anti-
capitalism. They saw this resistance as the “Fourth World War”, a
global war between the people and their govt.

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The Final Step
On the picket lines, I’m cold & wet from the rain,
Standing by my Comrades, I’m feeling their pain.
The pain of going hungry because I can’t afford food,
The very reason that I’m clashing in this class war feud.
I can hear the screaming mothers when their babies die of thirst,
And the screams of my neighbors being evicted, it’s always the
worst.
The idea that I can’t stop this is a burden that I regret,
So I made the vow to my dying world that I’ll take that final step.
In the darkest night, in the back of the station,
I pull my gun out, running faster than the rising inflation.
I know that my life may end, but I’m willing to chance,
But before the revolution, honey would you like to dance?
As I hold on your arms, I can feel your cold skin,
Reminds me of those fighting until the day that they win.
My eyes may never see peace, but I’m willing to accept,
Because peace is what we’re fighting for, time to take that final
step.

The meaning behind this poem is the fact that those of us within
the struggle are willing to take that final step. To leave everything
we hold dearly today behind, in order to fight for something much
more real and much more important for the working class as a
whole. For those wanting to fight for the struggle as well, we ask
of you to be willing to take that final step too.

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It’s Time
The time is now to get off the porch, we’ve gotta light the torch,
We’ve gotta take back the courts, we’ve gotta hold the fort.
It’s time to get buckwild, the cops are getting frisky,
And when I’m fucking done with them give me a bottle of whisky.
Eighteen ninety-three, that’s the year I wanna see,
The very years when the slave masters cracked down on the free.
And if you can’t see then Helen Keller knew more than you,
A blind woman who knew the more is being run by the few.
I’m a triple A energizer & a socialist organizer,
Fuck the capitalist sympathizers, we know who’s the real fighters.
We’ve gotta release the tigers, even if they despise us,
No more of the street flyers, the time is now to strap the bus.
Strapped with C4 & covered with metal tanked armor plates,
Bash through the leaders door, we are the holders of your fate.
And just think, before we organized, you were the holder,
But now your body’s colder than when you raped that girl & sold
her.
Well guess what, she’s back with an M4 & a jacked 50,
Shot off your small willy & said, “can you now feel me?”
It may be silly, but I can remember when my friend had died,
A bullet in the head when he said “fuck you!”, & then defied.
All these first world drive-by’s can never keep our thoughts away,
And to this day I remain fighting until the people have their say.
And by the way, mark my words, you can never stop this,
So bring your fucking army, all I need is my gun & fist.

Another poem of revolution and class struggle against capitalism.

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Know Your History
You created a white Jesus & called it a fact,
Though, fact of the matter, we all descended from blacks.
I don’t need your religious bigotry, it tried to murder me,
Through conformity, the lack of intellectuals creates hypocrisy.
You held our history hostage, you never told us we’re equal,
Well fuck that, I’ll kill you before the dawn of a sequel.
I’ll bring this whole system down like the meteor that killed the
dinosaurs,
If I’m going to hell then I’ll blow you down to the core.
So do you hear that muthafucker, I know you’re raping them
children,
Out of all the starving people, a church is all that you’re buildin’?
Michael Jackson was innocent, but I know your disgusting ass
isn’t,
I bet you get a hard on every time a choir boy visits.
You label all the scientists as intellectual terrorists,
Though, even if so, we all know that you’re a pagan plagiarist.
The white race enslaved the black race & created Latinos,
You then enslaved the Natives & made them work in casinos.
You can take what I’m saying & see it as whatever you want,
But I promise you, everything I’m saying is only meant to a vaunt.
It’s not a coincidence that every Communist leader was an
atheist,
Though I’m sure you’ll cover it up for a white American capitalist.

I had written this poem to represent an ideal we all hold on today,

realizing the effects that take place when one doesn’t realize the
similarities it plays when compared to history. To recognize that
history repeats itself, to learn from said history, and to make the
right decision in order to progress forward. This comes in all
studies of life, whether it be political, economical, social, or even
under religious history. “Those who control the past control the

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future. Those who control the present control the past.” ~George
Orwell.

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Live From What You Learn
Urban warfare on the streets from here to Atlanta,
Being chased by the police with a full bar of stamina.
Twenty four-seven, the streets are in calamity,
No honor or respect, family fucking with family.
And I don`t mean like West Virginia where rumors come from
movers,
Or the movers of rumors who theorize about the future.
I don`t need your fucking theories of conspiracies,
I know the system`s fucked up, there`s no need for any theories.
So release the fury, `cuz tonight we`re even packin` angels,
Using God as our witness, creating reality from a fable.
The stable`s in a burn, light up, here`s my turn,
So you better pay attention `cuz you live from what you learn.

Another “learn from your history” poem. To analyze everything

you go through and to put in perspective to that of the struggle.

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My Final Comeback
Yeah I’m back for one last time, back for one more rhyme,
I’m throwing lines after lines, like I’m smoking nickles & dimes.
Yeah I was caught with marijuana & I’ve never regret it,
‘Cuz it’s the life that I chose & I hope you respect it.
I’m at the epitome of struggle, putting my hours at double,
My money’s lower, gas is higher, I thought I was in trouble.
But it was just a stumble, I brought myself right back up,
I told all those fake ass friends that enough is enough.
I’ve gotta stay tough, life is too rough, but here I’m standing,
I was only 3 shots away from the local cell jailing.
But here I’m telling the story, so I know I’ve done something right,
Where I’m from has never been heaven, I can’t believe I’m alive.
At the age of 5, I knew there was never a Santa Claus,
And just a decade later, I knew there was never any Gods.
It was a sense of freedom, that this was the only life I had,
My life was never perfect, that’s why I had one mom & two dads.
But please don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved all my family,
And if all of you are reading this, I hope you understand me.
Can’t we all just get along, I know that I’m different,
But that doesn’t mean I’m bad, that’s why I’m writing this
sentiment.
School has never been my game, but at least I’m still going,
‘Cuz I believe in a better life, can’t you see through the lines that
I’m throwing.
I threw away the throne just so I can have a life I can feel,
And to this day I can finally say my life is for real.

I had written this poem to represent everything I’ve went through

personally under my own struggle. Whether it be socially, or
economically, I wanted to point out what I went through, and still
going through, but understanding that I’m still standing despite my
struggle. I’ve gone this far, and will only progress forward from
here.

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Against state terrorism! Free Palestine!

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Send This To Washington
This is a one modern nation, embracing escalation,
Heated violence by the people against the invasion.
You can’t call me a fucking terrorist, you don’t know the meaning,
Locking up the little people who you consider as demeaning.
Fuck all your meetings at the G8 & G20,
Capitalizing all the people, exploited for more money.
You may think the world is sunny, but it’s cold & dark,
That’s why I support people like the Colombian FARC.
So go ahead & bark you fucking dirty dogs, we’ll bite,
We’ll show you exactly what it’s like to speak forever & fight.
Striking in the night, it’s time we reached for new heights,
So lock them in your sights & give them a mile long light.
Imperial wars well funded by global Plutonomy,
Capitalism undetectable by corporate lobotomy.
Surgically striking at the minds of the homeless & poor,
Feds analyzing tapes by the news covering whores.
This is not a fucking joke, do you see me fucking laughing,
Are you ready for a civil war, fully auto’s clacking.
Go ahead & lock me up for everything that I’m saying,
‘Cuz soon enough, just you see, capitalism will start decaying.

Another poem recognizing the struggles we all face under

capitalism and what to do in response.

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God’s An Excuse
Covering up the attacks to those who pray to Allah,
Like when you attacked Iran with the CIA backed Jundallah.
These muthafuckers will never know peace, they’re all criminal
minded,
Like their excuse of WMD’s, they will never find it.
I know I attack the bible & the very image of God,
But I never said it funds terrorism or weaponized the jihads.
Don’t ever get me wrong, I don’t believe in the Qur’an,
But never have I demonized it & claimed it was wrong.
Faith turned to the government, they claimed that it was simple,
They then privatized religion & called it Masonic Temples.
This isn’t a conspiracy, I don’t believe in the Illuminati,
This is just big business in order to sale commodities.
There is no holy war, I can’t believe you bought that excuse,
It justifies imperialism with threats of lighting a nuclear fuse.
So don’t brush this off with claims that it doesn’t affect you,
‘Cuz soon enough it will, just look at what happened to the Jews.

Imperialist wars will always be called something the complete

opposite of what it really is, and will define the reason behind
waging said wars for something the complete opposite as well.
God and religion has been a well used scapegoat when it came to
waging imperialist war against other foreign countries. Today,
especially, there’s been a huge rise of struggle and demonization
against the Muslim community. Calling them terrorists and “al
Qaeda rebels”, which only justifies state-sponsored terror against
domestic Muslim civilians or imperial wars against foreign
countries, such as Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Yemen.

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Metaphorically Speaking
The media is bowing to powers of the private estate,
Racially kicking them out, like the Van Jones fate.
Tax prowling vultures, upholders of gentrification,
Like the empire of Rome, this is the death of a nation.
Caused by rising inflation, I shoot at the station,
I’m taking over this shit, like the US did to Haitians.
While I’m doing deals with you, I’m doing deals for another,
Like Oliver North, but I’m fucking taking it further.
Playing against the system, like the system played on us,
Illuminate them a disaster with the use of white phosphorus.
Our strike is cancerous, infecting the whole governing body,
Like the plan of attacking Iran with the help of the Saudi’s.
Don’t you get it, these are our homes & we’re taking it back,
‘Cuz we’re tired of being shit on, so says the manifesto of Stack.
And I promise, this isn’t a threat, this is a fact,
‘Cuz we’ll never let you win, like those in Iraq.

The meaning behind this poem is my belief that the real crimes is
when private banks kick people out of their homes just because
the current economy puts said families in a position of not being
able to keep to date with their payments. So I call for all people
being kicked out on the streets to take back your homes and
resist against those who try to deprive you from your right of
having adequate shelter. To not listen to the banks and to fight for
your survival, no matter what.

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Die or Survive
If the first amendment drops by the heat of the cops,
Then raise the second amendment until their fascist bodies drop.
I can’t keep living in this cabin with no heat against the cold,
That’s why my labor is being used so that the products can be
sold.
This is the heat of the moment, hotter than the outside world,
Fucking me over every day, like when I’m fucking your girl.
My soul is boiling over like the oil in the Gulf Coast waters,
Always looking over my shoulders like the President’s daughters.
If you have the right to obey, I have the right to kill,
‘Cuz you’re only killing yourself when you bow to the
government’s will.
That’s why I choose to raise the 2nd when there’s no longer a 1st,
‘Cuz I’ll be damned if I die from starvation & thirst.
This is a daily struggle, that’s why some hustle & steal,
‘Cuz this life is not a fucking joke, it’s never more real.
You may take my right to speak, but you’ll never take my pride,
So you can uphold whatever law you want, I will never abide.
So you decide, are you ready to take back what is yours,
Or are you too pussy & rather do the government’s chores.
When you gentrify your people out of their long-lived homes,
We’ll be on the frontlines, fighting against the Empire of Rome.

Here I’m calling for people to fight with everything they’ve got.
When put in a position where you can either simply die right there
for actually stand up and fight for your will-to-live, then I say fight
for yours and everyone else’s survival.

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Take It Over
This is a systematic overthrow, in the night like the Crow,
Light up your fuses, it’s time we gave them a show.
Blowing up government buildings, like Timothy McVeigh,
If it happens, it’s not karma, we just had to have our say.
I don’t believe in killing innocent life, that’s the truth,
If they were really innocent they would fight for the youth.
You fucking spoofs, we know how you play your games,
Exploiting the working class just to create your fame.
I’m not al Qaeda or the Taliban, I say fuck them the same,
I’m fighting for the will to live, I’m killing in the name.
Give a bushmaster to those who see Bush as their master,
And don’t trust Obama, for he’s killing us faster.
I’m not a tea-party member or a right-wing conspiracy theorist,
I say let the workers control the industry, nationalize the nearest.
Mother dearest, I hope you understand why you’ll never see me
again,
This is a war that we’ll always wage until the day that we win.

A simple poem calling for all workers, worldwide, to occupy all

industries and start operating them yourselves. Don’t let the
bosses or private corporations tell you what to do and exploit you
for your labor force. Take a stand and rise up to power!

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 Massive worker’s demonstration in Cuba,
showing support and solidarity towards their
Socialist country and the ongoing revolution.

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Love Is Much More…
I promise, love has never been the most simplest thing,
But I can guarantee that it’s much more than a ring.
She can wear her white dress & throw the bouquet,
But are you man enough to fight for it at the end of the day?
It doesn’t matter if you’re straight, bisexual or gay,
‘Cuz love will always be love by the end of the day.
That’s why I say I can never believe in weddings,
For love is much stronger than a marriage setting.
Contracts can never overthrow the bonds of trust,
Love is much more than the simple sins of lust.
You can say God is watching over you & follow tradition,
But your love will never be saved by the myths of religion.
Love is much more than a ring, dress or priest,
And it’s definitely much more than the after wedding feast.
If you don’t believe me then it’ll fall like the city of Pompeii,
So are you man enough to fight for it at the end of the day?

I’ve come to be a big nonbeliever in marriage. I don’t understand

the difference between a ring and not a ring. The love is still there
and as long as the trust remains strong, the love will remain
strong as well. You don’t need a ring or an expensive marriage to
recognize that. In fact, to transfer your bonded trust and love
towards a contract of “legal” marriage, you’re only replacing said
trust with contracts. This brings couples in a difficult position
when/if that love fades away, because of said contract. The court
then gets involved, and your broken love becomes an ongoing
dispute. Either way, only two things can happen to said love – it
either expands or fades away. Marriage doesn’t grant a lock to
that love to prevent it from being broken. It’s the couple,
themselves, who decide whether the love lasts or not, and
marriage is completely irrelevant when it comes to protecting that
love.

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I’m Ready
This is dialectical & also mathematical,
Against the collateral, a knife to your abdominal.
This is the way that I think, so don’t you blink,
For reality is dry, like the water in my sink.
I don’t give a damn what you think, I will be me,
For everything that I am allows for me to be free.
I know I’m in a ditch with no job, no wages being made,
To get paid with no rage, though it’s all about to fade.
I am the man with no plans, I blame Uncle Sam,
But I’m flooding with mistakes like the Baldwin Hills dam.
So give me your hand, I’m on a cliff & about to fall,
Crashing faster than Wall Street, will someone drop the ball?
This year has been nothing more than a daily drama,
I thought this would never happen, though I guess that is karma.
I can never forgive the failures that I made in the past,
I have to catch up with reality, time is going too fast.
And just think, I was the kid who wanted everything,
The cars, the women, though that is all a fantasy.
This is the American Dream? Hah! Don’t kill my self-esteem,
That’s bullshit, it’s only available in a dream.
I have this girl in Pennsylvania, she’s everything that I’m not,
Though that’s why I love her to death, she said for me to never
stop.
So get back, I’m back, I’m taking over this now,
Like the workers of Venezuela, I’ll no longer fall like DOW.
The struggle will continue, there is no doubting this fact,
Though I’ll fight for a better life, I’m now ready to act.
I always let life run over me, yet I never react,
That’s why I’m now taking a stand, I’m taking everything back!

Another poem recognizing my personal struggle and me rising

against said struggle for a betterment in my personal life.

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Chairman Mao
There’s a blacklist on this rhyme, so I’m going to have to shout it out,
Locking & loading the .50, aim it at your head, no doubts.
This logic runs in miles, like the slaves on the tracks a night,
Running away from the middle passage, not dying without a fight.
This creates the best in them, a contradictory dialectical,
This is the two-line struggle, leaving no evidence behind like
Hannibal the Cannibal.
You’re like an animal, constantly thrashing, constantly bashing,
And when I’m done, I’m like a gymnast, constantly dashing.
It’s like a civil crisis, the third world, that’s where the fight is,
It’s like we’re on the seven seas, I’m striking down the basilisk.
That is if we come together, the workers & the peasantry,
Can it be just a dream? This is the making of history.
Bigotry from their saliva, shouting out & getting higher,
Their numbers may be greater, but we’ll rise up like Che Guevara.
We’ve severed the head of the dragon, they better throw the
towel,
We’re rising in power by the words from Chairman Mao.
Our solidarity’s electrical, run by a higher wattage,
We know what you did to the villagers as you burned their cottage.
And then we caught it, tagging the women as slaves & then you
bag them,
You’ll pay for your crimes, & your army, there won’t be any left of
them.
We’ve got to help the community, be there for the needy,
Taking all the stolen land back, can you now feel me?
And if not then just kill me, because the cause will live forever,
Never say never, even if the weather is hot & you’re wearing a
sweater.
Even though it’s getting rough, you’ve gotta stay tough,
Show them that you’ll never give up, that enough is enough.
This is not like a professional sport, there’s no calling fouls,
This is Class War & we’re waging it like Chairman Mao.

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Although I do not consider myself a Maoist, and instead a Marxist-
Leninist, I uphold Mao Zedong greatly. He was a brilliant
revolutionary and helped lead his people towards their
independence as a Chinese State and brought Socialism to their
country. Since Mao’s liberation of China, many things have taken
place in China, some good and some bad, but Socialism is still
very real in China and many of us continue to fight for said
Socialism, in the honor of Mao Zedong.

I also written this poem in honor of all the Maoist guerrilla

organizations, ranging from Nepal, India, Philippines, Bangladesh,
etc., who are continuing their successful revolutions against the
capitalist State’s of said countries.

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Show No Mercy
There are times when nothing’s left for you to become,
The American dream is only available to some.
Can you hear the sounds, the first shot heard around the world,
Where the only one’s begging are the ones who stole the crumbs.
We are rising up, strapping up, you can never bounce with me,
If you are a bourgeois or lived your life of a paying fee.
We are on the mountains, pointing down, waiting for your head to
show,
And when you all hear the shots, that’s when you know it’s a go.
You can shoot us down, but you can never kill our dreams,
Because the world will know that nothing is what it used to seem.
We will die with our foot on the floor, you’ll die begging for more,
You’ll beg for your life, but you died when you became the profit-
making whore.

A simple poem stating that when revolution is finally held, and is

being held in certain areas of the world, mercy will not be granted
to those who stand in our way towards our struggle of
independence and liberation.

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Hit & Run
Do you debate or procrastinate, set up a date,
It’s like fishing, here’s the bait, time to set up their fate.
They’re like Mary Kate, throwing up their $100 dinner,
Yet they ask why I’m a sinner & support cop killers?
To all my burger flippers, go & get those tippers,
And to all my pot dealers, go & get those clippers.
Fuck the cops, they’re just a politician’s baby sitters,
And fuck the jewelry stores, the conflict diamond fitters.
You can go down that road & wear all of the gold,
But that doesn’t mean that you’re not bought off & sold.
While my house reeks of mold, your 10 stories unfold,
The truth is not in bold, so your revenue’s put on hold.
You can lie in D.C. like the claim there was a B.C.,
‘Cuz if you don’t then you won’t be greedy or sleazy.
It’s easy son, all you have to do is sign the contract,
You’re now a millionaire kid, oh & can you pamper my back?
Yeah, I am everything that you’re against,
Like those people who cross the fence.
Or even those that you gave a lynch,
And you can’t forget the sinners you tried to cleanse.
I’m like the innocent man that you put on death row,
It’s not about racism, it’s just the capitalist flow.
You’re like the pimps & we’re like the hoes,
You better hope, when you kill me, I don’t come back like the
Crow.
‘Cuz I’ll grab your chandeliers & shove them up your rears,
I’ll make your face flood in tears & your mind full of fears.
I’ll kill you financially like the stocks in DOW,
Where, for many years to come, forensics will ask how.
Don’t worry fella’s, I’ve read Mao Tse-tung,
Lock & load your AK when the door bells rung.
The Feds are at the door trying to have their fun,
This is what you do, fire back then run!

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Another poem about class struggle and revolution. I also go into
topics like the police being the protectors of the Bourgeois State
and the jewelry stores selling us conflict diamonds from Africa.
And given the position me and my political organization’s in with
the FBI, the last two verses hit home for me!

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 Mass protest by the Unified Communist Party
of Nepal (Maoist), declaring opposition against
the Nepalese prime minister, calling for him to
step down and allow the Maoists to be the new
ruling party of the Nepalese State

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Action Above Words
I am wasting my time trying to make a good rhyme
So my fist’ll do lines, I am a militant mime
I will never be fine, even when I smoke dimes
I know it’s a crime for my mind to not climb
So I’ll climb up the structure, defeating the juncture
This is not for the fructure, but for my own culture
There I’m robbing the station, while on probation
No more free vacations, the cause of inflation
You state that you’re made, but you’re stuck in a cage
You’re so full of rage, but soon it’ll fade
Because you are afraid to oppose the brigade
It’s the rules you obeyed, revolution delayed
So keep your Ann Coulter, I know you adore her
I demand for a lawyer, you’re just an exploiter
And just a sick loiter, I’ll kick at your goiter
Time is now shorter, so I’ll shoot out some mortars
I am not just a martyr, I am just smarter
With terrorists you barter, like President Carter
So I’ll give you my word in the death of your herd
My words are not slurred, you know what you heard.

Speaking about the struggle can only go so far. When the time is
right, the 1st amendment then becomes completely irrelevant, and
the 2nd amendment becomes leading tool of our ongoing struggle.
Like the old saying goes, you may talk the talk, but can you walk
the walk?

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For My People’s Common Needs
I was born in a storm where I hear cracks from gun fire,
My people homeless 'cuz of banks & no one's out to hire.
We're all political prisoners, Attica is in all of our hearts,
'Cuz when that red & blue strikes ya', that's when the riot starts.
Yeah everything was calm, 'til they decided to drop the bomb,
It's all wrong when I'm gentrified 'til everything's gone.
All I ask for is shelter, whatever happened to the common need?
When my people didn't fear to pass life to their seed.
Yeah the storm is erupting, every politician's corrupted,
I say we take over the media, 'til all the bullshit's interrupted.
Tagged & bagged, a daily life within the rags,
It's just us & them, attending the daily ghetto stag.
Man is falling from the fall of man, like those in the sand,
Where the eyes of an Afghani girl's dead from the mine on the
land.
I can't stand to see us like this, so fuck that,
I won't let my child enlist to kill life with a gat.
If you believe in a God, you may not believe in reality,
I won't let any fake higher power claim superiority.
Like those klans on minorities, is this the solution?
The solution for a better life is only revolution.

Worldwide, whether it be the First World or the Third World, those

of us suffering within the struggle are put into positions where our
common needs become a prize to fight over for instead of being
something granted to all human beings as a human necessity.
This is what we fight for. For our needs of survival, which is not
being granted to us, the working class and peasantry, by the
capitalist bourgeois.

P a g e | 191
Love not Terrorism
The massively wageless, they're stuck into cages,
The problem's that they are massively rageless.
When you cash that check & it bounces like a full head wreck,
The Feds'll be by your door out to make their collect.
No wonder people on the streets are smoking their crack,
When they're putting hours at double & double the stacks.
This world is controlled by these D.C. pimp macs,
That's why I'll be on the streets with my fully auto clack.
When your house burns down from a ten dollar debt,
Armed civilian at the White House giving a karma duet.
You've gotta get raged son, fuck the legal conversations,
When all they do is start an inflation while they're on their
vacations.
This is not the call of a terrorist, because I care,
How do you expect us to react when the people can't bear.
So to the company owners & all the leaders beware,
We're on the streets locked & loaded where solidarity's rare.

The problem today on the ideal of one being classified as a

terrorist is that it completely disregards any class analysis of the
conditions being played at. Terrorism is originally defined as “the
systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion.”
Under this very definition, we begin to realize who the real
terrorists are. Not those of us fighting and killing for our people
who are being withheld their basic rights of survival – such as
shelter, food, work, healthcare, energy, etc. Rather, those who
are waging imperial wars against foreign countries. Yet, according
to our own govt. and the private corporations running it, we’re the
ones who are the “terrorists”, not them.

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One Move, Blastoff
When face to face with barrels that's about to set off,
Your mind's turning faster than their hearts that's soft.
So it's a full face off, & you haven't had enough,
Flick your finger to see which one's a bluff.
Sweat trickling down faster than a life or death cough,
Eyes set on your target & you're about to blastoff.
It's the starting kickoff, 20 pins are about to begin,
With your hand on a cross, about to embrace your sins.
You've got a second to move, you're in the lion's den,
Either way, none of you are going to win.
Red buttons smashed down, lights are now over the base,
With a hole left to show what they're about to face.

This poem was written through a personal support of mine in such

tactics like “suicide bombing”. To make it more clear on why I
support such tactics, one has to understand the reason behind
“suicide bombing”. I also want to first point out that I support those
who are willing to conduct a “suicide bombing”, not those being
forced into doing it. Say that you and your guerrilla group are
trying to advance forward, but a few yards away from you is a
fleet of enemy combatants, who are more heavily armed, and in
greater numbers. Of course, you can take the risk by sending out
everyone and conduct a fire fight against the enemy, but there’s a
greater chance in you and your people getting killed. So if one is
then willing to take his life for his comrades, this becomes a
tactical maneuver against the enemy. One casualty will come
about, of course, on your side, but that comrade would be able to
bring mass casualty against the enemy, putting you and your
comrades in a higher position of survival.

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Fuck Your Theories
You can say that explosives are what destroyed the temples,
And that the world is controlled by Masonic symbols.
But I don't fall for that shit, I believe in the facts,
Like when I say fuck capitalism, the Feds'll react.
I know what you're feeling, it's easy to fall for the theories,
But in the end, it doesn't matter, gotta release the fury
On the Grand Jury when they're locking up your people,
Claiming they're on our side, muthafucker, we're not equal.
You may have Fidel fooled, but he's still your biggest threat,
'Cause he resisted your ways even while the free-market crept.
Failed mission like your vision of a US-Iraq,
Well guess what muthafucker, we're here to fight back!
You want a conspiracy? Look at the history of Afghanistan,
Where the US trained the Taliban against the government of
Khad.
Or like al-Assad where he tried to overthrow the Fatah,
Yet here we are, decades later, with the rise of Hamas.
Palestinian culture against the Zionist lies,
Arab-Jews showing Israel that it's time to die.
You say our leaders are lizards, well I think that you're a rat,
'Cause your pro-capitalist ways will make sure that I'm whacked.
I'm glad Kennedy's dead, that anti-communist bigot,
Third world country elections where the US rigged it.
See, that's a conspiracy, you may have the minority fooled,
But the majority will stick to reality & defy capitalist rule.

As a known former conspiracy theorist, I’m glad that I ended up

leaving that way of life, and instead became part of a real
movement of struggle. The conspiracy theorist movement holds
no concrete basis of reality, whatsoever. And this prevents people
from recognizing the true struggle in front of them, a class
struggle, and instead they see a struggle of some global
conspiracy to take over the world through satanic rituals and

P a g e | 194
global depopulation. The entire movement is completely illogical,
unscientific, and very un-class conscious.

P a g e | 195
A Militant Cause
When the water line is cut off & bread lines are spread out,
And where your freedoms are restricted where you can't even
shout;
What the problem is,
The world is ruled by a level of raiment’s,
Withholding deadlines to our mortgage payments.
So light the fuse, it's at the end of a station,
Sparks blazing faster than cholera infecting the Haitians.
Black bags covering, your hands cupping your balls,
One hand to make an oath & the other to crawl.
So hold up your stamina, you've got an hour to go
Before the Feds make the drop off, bodies in rows.
Banks get the stick up & held down through robbery
Bombs planted out in each end, acting as auxiliary.
So what this world needs is not a Gandhi,
But a Gandhi & a Malcolm, spreading the seeds.
So burn those ID's for the militant cause,
Global AK's clacking for an applause.

Another, final poem about class struggle and revolution against

capitalism.

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Where Ever We May Go
These oceans are rising, too long they're nearing me
This intoxicating air that, since birth, I have breathed
The ice caps are crumbling, giving birth to new seas
But out of all that we've lost, there is still you and me.

Past the smog that is filling all the cities and the streets
Past the oceans where all the oil is left to bleed
Where the creatures once known are never seen again
I promise our lives will be like it once been.

On highways where diesel trucks race to the end

We've got these cold voices, telling us to sin
Wall Street or slaughterhouses, where should I begin?
Where ever we may go, just please hold my hand.

I made this poem to recognize love beyond the midst of class war
and struggle. That, no matter how tough it may seem in the future,
you’ve always got that close someone by your side during the
present. So don’t ever let go of that piece of reality that the
bourgeoisie can’t pry from your hands. Keep that love strong like
you keep the struggle strong.

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Capital Plummetation
From the inch of your fork to your limited food
When the bank steals your home, there designs a new feud
From the crops broken down from climatic abuse
When the boss says you're fired, it's time to light that fuse.
When the pigs pin is open, the streets will go wild
And the bank stocks'll fall, economic coup-styled
When one fist falls, a thousand will rise
Capital plummetation sets your future's demise.

A poem merely pointing how capitalism affects all parts of life,

whether it be politically, economically, socially, or environmentally.
Yet, in the end, it’s capitalism that’ll bring itself down, we’ve just
got to be ready to push the transitional advancement forward.

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The Struggle Will Live On
In a country where there's bombing that's equated with starving,
Underwater missiles slicing through the country like carving.
Solidarity's coming, you just refuse to see reality,
Like blaming them on every event, a complete fallacy.
Fists raised high, the sun is pulsing upon their knuckles,
'Cuz they know why the globalists keep the hustle.
If you make a single utter, you'll be locked up and forgotten,
But not to the north, you're a comrade in the city that's rotten.
There's a mist in the air, & tonight we fearfully stare,
Bak and Obama are like the new age Bush and Blaire.
About to set off the bombs to an independent nation,
That's why we chose to retaliate at the Yeonpyeong station.
You can say that we're dictators, you can say we eat babies,
But the reality shows us that you're bombing the babies.
It's a non-stopping war in this non-stopping nation,
The struggle will live on, like the Afghani's & Haitian's.
So go & start the bombing, I know that's what you want to do,
Keep calling us terrorists, 'cuz in the mirror, that terrorist is you.
And when the shells stopped dropping, & your sights start locking
in,
You may have won the battle, but the fists say that you'll never
win.
The country remains standing, & the people start marching in,
Not with white flags, but redder than the blood that you spilt
within.
This is our message to all comrades who continue to fight,
Don't ever give up, 'cuz it's our struggle that'll lead us to light.

On November 23, 2010, South Korea led a live-firing drill by a

military base located on Yeonpyeong island, despite warning by
North Korea to not hold said drills, because of the fact that the
artillery shells that would be shot for the “war-drill” would hit
NKorean territorial waters, according to international law. And so,

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when SKorea started the war-drills, a few hours later, NKorea led
an artillery retaliation against the South by firing artillery shells at
the military base located at the Yeonpyeong island. As a counter-
response, the South then started firing artillery shells back at the
North. This went on for a little while. It was then reported that
SKorea lost 4 people during the incident – 2 SKorean soldiers and
2 contract workers that was working within the military base at the
time.

Of course, the blood that was spilt was not on NKorean hands,
rather on SKorea’s, due to them knowing what was to happen,
and instead put their people’s lives at risk and went ahead with
the “war-drills”. Since then, the tension between SKorea/US and
NKorea/China has only escalated. With various more war-drills
being performed by SKorea with the help of both Japan and the
US (the US is using their nuclear-arsenal warship, the USS
Washington) and all three threatening to declare the continuance
of war against Socialist NKorea, hoping to overthrow its
revolutionary country.

NKorea, along with its closest ally China, have been asking for
peace and reunification between both Korea’s, but both SKorea
and the US have completely disregarded these requests and
instead have been continuing their provocative “war-drills” (more
along the lines of being imperialist acts of aggression). Which is
only escalating the possibility of another Cold War on our hands.
This time, it could go nuclear.

With the US/SKorea/Japan continuing to push forward an

imperialist war against NKorea, all global comrades and
organizations have declared solidarity and support towards our
NKorean comrades against the possibility of imperialist war. Here,
in the United States, my organization (Freedom Road Socialist
Organization – Fight Back!), the PSL (Party for Socialism and
Liberation), the WWP (Worker’s World Party), FIST (Fight
Imperialism Stand Together), and various other organizations

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have sent out a message of resistance against this govt’s. support
in another war against another independent, democratic Socialist
country. Like when the US tried overthrowing Socialist Vietnam
during the Vietnam war, all students, workers, and intellectuals
will rise up on the streets under one banner, declaring resistance
and solidarity!

No more imperialist wars! US out of Korea!

Long Live the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea!

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Both North Korean citizens and soldiers declare
solidarity to their Socialist nation and direct
opposition against US imperialism

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P a g e | 203
 Joseph
Stack’s
Manifesto

P a g e | 204
The Manifesto of Joseph Stack

If you’re reading this, you’re no doubt asking yourself,

“Why did this have to happen?” The simple truth is that it
is complicated and has been coming for a long time. The
writing process, started many months ago, was intended to
be therapy in the face of the looming realization that there
isn’t enough therapy in the world that can fix what is really
broken. Needless to say, this rant could fill volumes with
example after example if I would let it. I find the process
of writing it frustrating, tedious, and probably pointless…
especially given my gross inability to gracefully articulate
my thoughts in light of the storm raging in my head.
Exactly what is therapeutic about that I’m not sure, but
desperate times call for desperate measures.

We are all taught as children that without laws there would

be no society, only anarchy. Sadly, starting at early ages
we in this country have been brainwashed to believe that, in
return for our dedication and service, our government
stands for justice for all. We are further brainwashed to
believe that there is freedom in this place, and that we
should be ready to lay our lives down for the noble
principals represented by its founding fathers. Remember?
One of these was “no taxation without representation”. I
have spent the total years of my adulthood unlearning that
crap from only a few years of my childhood. These days
anyone who really stands up for that principal is promptly
labeled a “crackpot”, traitor and worse.

While very few working people would say they haven’t had
their fair share of taxes (as can I), in my lifetime I can say
with a great degree of certainty that there has never been a
politician cast a vote on any matter with the likes of me or
my interests in mind. Nor, for that matter, are they the least
bit interested in me or anything I have to say.

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Why is it that a handful of thugs and plunderers can
commit unthinkable atrocities (and in the case of the GM
executives, for scores of years) and when it’s time for their
gravy train to crash under the weight of their gluttony and
overwhelming stupidity, the force of the full federal
government has no difficulty coming to their aid within
days if not hours? Yet at the same time, the joke we call
the American medical system, including the drug
and insurance companies, are murdering tens of thousands
of people a year and stealing from the corpses and victims
they cripple, and this country’s leaders don’t see this as
important as bailing out a few of their vile, rich cronies.

Yet, the political “representatives” (thieves, liars, and selfserving

scumbags is far more accurate) have endless time
to sit around for year after year and debate the state of the
“terrible health care problem”. It’s clear they see no crisis
as long as the dead people don’t get in the way of their
corporate profits rolling in.

And justice? You’ve got to be kidding!

How can any rational individual explain that white elephant

conundrum in the middle of our tax system and, indeed, our
entire legal system? Here we have a system that is, by far,
too complicated for the brightest of the master scholars to
understand. Yet, it mercilessly “holds accountable” its
victims, claiming that they’re responsible for fully
complying with laws not even the experts understand. The
law “requires” a signature on the bottom of a tax filing; yet
no one can say truthfully that they understand what they are
signing; if that’s not “duress” than what is. If this is not the
measure of a totalitarian regime, nothing is.

How did I get here?

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My introduction to the real American nightmare starts back
in the early ‘80s. Unfortunately after more than 16 years of
school, somewhere along the line I picked up the absurd,
pompous notion that I could read and understand plain
English. Some friends introduced me to a group of people
who were having ‘tax code’ readings and discussions. In
particular, zeroed in on a section relating to the wonderful
“exemptions” that make institutions like the vulgar, corrupt
Catholic Church so incredibly wealthy. We carefully
studied the law (with the help of some of the “best”, highpaid,
experienced tax lawyers in the business), and then
began to do exactly what the “big boys” were doing (except
that we weren’t steeling from our congregation or lying to
the government about our massive profits in the name of
God). We took a great deal of care to make it all visible,
following all of the rules, exactly the way the law said it
was to be done.

The intent of this exercise and our efforts was to bring

about a much-needed re-evaluation of the laws that allow
the monsters of organized religion to make such a mockery
of people who earn an honest living. However, this is
where I learned that there are two “interpretations” for
every law; one for the very rich, and one for the rest of
us… Oh, and the monsters are the very ones making and
enforcing the laws; the inquisition is still alive and well
today in this country.

That little lesson in patriotism cost me $40,000+, 10 years

of my life, and set my retirement plans back to 0. It made
me realize for the first time that I live in a country with an
ideology that is based on a total and complete lie. It also
made me realize, not only how naive I had been, but also
the incredible stupidity of the American public; that they
buy, hook, line, and sinker, the crap about their

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“freedom”… and that they continue to do so with eyes
closed in the face of overwhelming evidence and all that
keeps happening in front of them.

Before even having to make a shaky recovery from the

sting of the first lesson on what justice really means in this
country (around 1984 after making my way through
engineering school and still another five years of “paying
my dues”), I felt I finally had to take a chance of launching
my dream of becoming an independent engineer.

On the subjects of engineers and dreams of independence, I

should digress somewhat to say that I’m sure that I
inherited the fascination for creative problem solving from
my father. I realized this at a very young age.

The significance of independence, however, came much

later during my early years of college; at the age of 18 or
19 when I was living on my own as student in an apartment
in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. My neighbor was an elderly
retired woman (80+ seemed ancient to me at that age) who
was the widowed wife of a retired steel worker. Her
husband had worked all his life in the steel mills of central
Pennsylvania with promises from big business and the
union that, for his 30 years of service, he would have a
pension and medical care to look forward to in his
retirement. Instead he was one of the thousands who got
nothing because the incompetent mill management and
corrupt union (not to mention the government) raided their
pension funds and stole their retirement. All she had was
social security to live on.

In retrospect, the situation was laughable because here I

was living on peanut butter and bread (or Ritz crackers
when I could afford to splurge) for months at a time. When
I got to know this poor figure and heard her story I felt

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worse for her plight than for my own (I, after all, I thought
I had everything to in front of me). I was genuinely
appalled at one point, as we exchanged stories and
commiserated with each other over our situations, when she
in her grandmotherly fashion tried to convince me that I
would be “healthier” eating cat food (like her) rather than
trying to get all my substance from peanut butter and
bread. I couldn’t quite go there, but the impression was
made. I decided that I didn’t trust big business to take care
of me, and that I would take responsibility for my own
future and myself.

Return to the early ‘80s, and here I was off to a terrifying

start as a ‘wet-behind-the-ears’ contract software
engineer... and two years later, thanks to the fine backroom,
midnight effort by the sleazy executives of Arthur
Andersen (the very same folks who later brought us Enron
and other such calamities) and an equally sleazy New York
Senator (Patrick Moynihan), we saw the passage of 1986
tax reform act with its section 1706.

For you who are unfamiliar, here is the core text of

the IRS Section 1706, defining the treatment of workers
(such as contract engineers) for tax purposes. Visit this link
for a conference committee report:

(http://www.synergistech.com/1706.shtml#ConferenceCom
mitteeReport) regarding the intended interpretation of
Section 1706 and the relevant parts of Section 530, as
amended. For information on how these laws affect
technical services workers and their clients, read our
discussion here (http://www.synergistech.com/ictaxlaw.
shtml).

SEC. 1706. TREATMENT OF CERTAIN TECHNICAL

PERSONNEL.

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(a) IN GENERAL - Section 530 of the Revenue Act of
1978 is amended by adding at the end thereof the following
new subsection:

(d) EXCEPTION. - This section shall not apply in the case

of an individual who pursuant to an arrangement between
the taxpayer and another person, provides services for such
other person as an engineer, designer, drafter, computer
programmer, systems analyst, or other similarly skilled
worker engaged in a similar line of work.

(b) EFFECTIVE DATE. - The amendment made by this

section shall apply to remuneration paid and services
rendered after December 31, 1986.

Note:
· "another person" is the client in the traditional job-shop
relationship.
· "taxpayer" is the recruiter, broker, agency, or job shop.
· "individual", "employee", or "worker" is you.

Admittedly, you need to read the treatment to understand

what it is saying but it’s not very complicated. The bottom
line is that they may as well have put my name right in the
text of section (d). Moreover, they could only have been
more blunt if they would have came out and directly
declared me a criminal and non-citizen slave. Twenty
years later, I still can’t believe my eyes.

During 1987, I spent close to $5000 of my ‘pocket change’,

and at least 1000 hours of my time writing, printing, and
mailing to any senator, congressman, governor, or slug that
might listen; none did, and they universally treated me as if
I was wasting their time. I spent countless hours on the
L.A. freeways driving to meetings and any and all of the
disorganized professional groups who were attempting to

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mount a campaign against this atrocity. This, only to
discover that our efforts were being easily derailed by a few
moles from the brokers who were just beginning to enjoy
the windfall from the new declaration of their “freedom”.

Oh, and don’t forget, for all of the time I was spending on
this, I was loosing income that I couldn’t bill clients.
After months of struggling it had clearly gotten to be a
futile exercise. The best we could get for all of our trouble
is a pronouncement from an IRS mouthpiece that they
weren’t going to enforce that provision (read harass
engineers and scientists). This immediately proved to be a
lie, and the mere existence of the regulation began to have
its impact on my bottom line; this, of course, was the
intended effect.

Again, rewind my retirement plans back to 0 and shift them

into idle. If I had any sense, I clearly should have left
abandoned engineering and never looked back.

Instead I got busy working 100-hour workweeks. Then

came the L.A. depression of the early 1990s. Our leaders
decided that they didn’t need the all of those extra Air
Force bases they had in Southern California, so they were
closed; just like that. The result was economic devastation
in the region that rivaled the widely publicized Texas S&L
fiasco. However, because the government caused it, no one
gave a shit about all of the young families who lost their
homes or street after street of boarded up houses abandoned
to the wealthy loan companies who received government
funds to “shore up” their windfall. Again, I lost my
retirement.

Years later, after weathering a divorce and the constant

struggle trying to build some momentum with my business,
I find myself once again beginning to finally pick up some

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speed. Then came the .COM bust and the 911 nightmare.

Our leaders decided that all aircraft were grounded for what
seemed like an eternity; and long after that, ‘special’
facilities like San Francisco were on security alert for
months. This made access to my customers prohibitively
expensive. Ironically, after what they had done the
Government came to the aid of the airlines with billions of
our tax dollars … as usual they left me to rot and die while
they bailed out their rich, incompetent cronies WITH MY
MONEY! After these events, there went my business but
not quite yet all of my retirement and savings.

By this time, I’m thinking that it might be good for a

change. Bye to California, I’ll try Austin for a while. So I
moved, only to find out that this is a place with a highly
inflated sense of self-importance and where damn little real
engineering work is done. I’ve never experienced such a
hard time finding work. The rates are 1/3 of what I was
earning before the crash, because pay rates here are fixed
by the three or four large companies in the area who are in
collusion to drive down prices and wages… and this
happens because the justice department is all on the take
and doesn’t give a fuck about serving anyone or anything
but themselves and their rich buddies.

To survive, I was forced to cannibalize my savings and

retirement, the last of which was a small IRA. This came
in a year with mammoth expenses and not a single dollar of
income. I filed no return that year thinking that because I
didn’t have any income there was no need. The sleazy
government decided that they disagreed. But they didn’t
notify me in time for me to launch a legal objection so
when I attempted to get a protest filed with the court I was
told I was no longer entitled to due process because the
time to file ran out. Bend over for another $10,000 helping

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of justice.

So now we come to the present. After my experience with

the CPA world, following the business crash I swore that
I’d never enter another accountant’s office again. But here
I am with a new marriage and a boatload of undocumented
income, not to mention an expensive new business asset, a
piano, which I had no idea how to handle. After
considerable thought I decided that it would be
irresponsible NOT to get professional help; a very big
mistake.

When we received the forms back I was very optimistic

that they were in order. I had taken all of the years
information to Bill Ross, and he came back with results
very similar to what I was expecting. Except that he had
neglected to include the contents of Sheryl’s unreported
income; $12,700 worth of it. To make matters worse, Ross
knew all along this was missing and I didn’t have a clue
until he pointed it out in the middle of the audit. By that
time it had become brutally evident that he was
representing himself and not me.

This left me stuck in the middle of this disaster trying to

defend transactions that have no relationship to anything
tax-related (at least the tax-related transactions were poorly
documented). Things I never knew anything about and
things my wife had no clue would ever matter to anyone.
The end result is… well, just look around.

I remember reading about the stock market crash before the

“great” depression and how there were wealthy bankers and
businessmen jumping out of windows when they realized
they screwed up and lost everything. Isn’t it ironic how far
we’ve come in 60 years in this country that they now know
how to fix that little economic problem; they just steal from

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the middle class (who doesn’t have any say in it, elections
are a joke) to cover their asses and it’s “business-as-usual”.
Now when the wealthy fuck up, the poor get to die for the
mistakes… isn’t that a clever, tidy solution.

As government agencies go, the FAA is often justifiably

referred to as a tombstone agency, though they are hardly
alone. The recent presidential puppet GW Bush and his
cronies in their eight years certainly reinforced for all of us
that this criticism rings equally true for all of the
government. Nothing changes unless there is a body count
(unless it is in the interest of the wealthy sows at the
government trough). In a government full of hypocrites
from top to bottom, life is as cheap as their lies and their
self-serving laws.

I know I’m hardly the first one to decide I have had all I
can stand. It has always been a myth that people have
stopped dying for their freedom in this country, and it isn’t
limited to the blacks, and poor immigrants. I know there
have been countless before me and there are sure to be as
many after. But I also know that by not adding my body to
the count, I insure nothing will change. I choose to not
keep looking over my shoulder at “big brother” while he
strips my carcass, I choose not to ignore what is going on
all around me, I choose not to pretend that business as usual
won’t continue; I have just had enough.

I can only hope that the numbers quickly get too big to be
white washed and ignored that the American zombies wake
up and revolt; it will take nothing less. I would only hope
that by striking a nerve that stimulates the inevitable double
standard, knee-jerk government reaction that results in
more stupid draconian restrictions people wake up and
begin to see the pompous political thugs and their mindless
minions for what they are. Sadly, though I spent my entire

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life trying to believe it wasn’t so, but violence not only is
the answer, it is the only answer. The cruel joke is that the
really big chunks of shit at the top have known this all
along and have been laughing, at and using this awareness
against, fools like me all along.

I saw it written once that the definition of insanity is

repeating the same process over and over and expecting the
outcome to suddenly be different. I am finally ready to
stop this insanity. Well, Mr. Big Brother IRS man, let’s try
something different; take my pound of flesh and sleep well.

The communist creed: From each according to his ability,

to each according to his need.

The capitalist creed: From each according to his gullibility,

to each according to his greed.

Joe Stack (1956-2010)

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P a g e | 216
I would like to thank everyone, from my family to my friends, in
believing in me and supporting my beliefs 100%. If it wasn’t for all
of you, I’m not sure if I would’ve had the guts of being so open to
my beliefs and to my ideology.

I would also like to thank everyone who complimented on my

poetry, keeping my hopes up of getting better and to progress
forward with this long awaited book.

Having said all that, I’m here to announce that this will be my last
book of poetry. This doesn’t mean that I’ll stop writing, nor does it
mean that I’ll stop getting new books published. I’ve just decided
that I’ve said all that I could say through poetry and it’s time to
retire from it – for now. I may come back again with more poetry,
but for now, it’s time to call it quits and to start embracing more
types of writing.

I’m currently starting on my next book, which is untitled for the

time being, and will consist of my essays and articles over the
year, and will elapse over the next coming year as well. So I’ll be
back with another book, but poetry is done with. So again, thank
you to everyone who believed in me and helped me come this far.

Red Love & Salutes!

Also, like promised, I will provide the url to the website

where you can purchase a shirt where all the funds go to the
PFLP and their armed struggle against the Israeli State:

http://wpnz-pflp-solidarity.blogspot.com/

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P a g e | 218
 Earlier this year, I ended up starting an independent news site,
strictly for the working class and peasantry, in order to fight back
against mainstream media propaganda. So for all those reading, if
you want to stay in touch with the truth and what all’s going on
within the global struggle, then get online and go to the url below.

http://redantliberationarmy.wordpress.com

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