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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/988760
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
#988760 added July 21, 2020 at 8:42am
Restrictions: None
The New Obedience
In Your Field

In your field
boxed, barred
ember of stars
Shunned, red and
tattered
waving high,
half lowered
on its stick

In a field
of blue smoldering white
stars strain
against lost memory
fading nostalgia
of freedom fought
lowered 'neath
new eyes, red

In your field
a lake drowns
cooling sons
born of fire
shunned, re-caste
in steel molds
revisions ignorant
for the obedient

handled and folded
each morning
by patriotic faces
with loose grips
tarnish nostalgia
our future anarchy
fails freedom
honor of a nation
silent suffering


Flags and anthems
don't kill people
but represent
an ideological
expression
that inspired
a new nation
torn and manipulated
red and white

surrounding the blue.

defend yourself
before they take away
your right to arms
not even allowed
on internet
message boards. 🔫

7.21.20

*CountryUS*

They get you to fight with yourself so you don't notice your freedoms being lost to politically motivated, power hungry, greedy giants. The two percent has its own two percent.

The more you rage against this machine, the more freedom you give away to the ideological right. I give up my freedom every day by speaking out. It's tar baby syndrome. You get stuck by being ideological and so you have to bend and cower and hope that they will let you back in, but it's not the same anymore. The will take you out of your houses and put you in centralized locations to work until the day you die. You have the freedom of virtual reality, but not true ownership of the original ideals that founded...this place.

Go ahead, fight against their flag. You fight to lose.
Pay attention to the writing on the wall, ever changing.

They get you to suck their cold, hard, red dick until your blue, drained until you are white like stars drowning in your own masse.

© Copyright 2020 He’s Brian K Compton (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
He’s Brian K Compton has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/988760