This song is “La Guerra di Piero” (Piero’s War) by Fabrizio De Andre who’s an Italian singer/poet. It’s a beautiful song. It isn’t directly related to anarchy (but I’ll post it anyway hah!), it’s about this soldier during World War II who comes across another soldier from the opposing army. He’s supposed to shoot him, but doesn’t want to and spares his life. In the end the other guy doesn’t return the favor of getting his life spared, and shoots Piero.
Lots of Fabrizio’s songs and tales were very left and even anarchic at times.

“nonla rosa nonil tulipano
che ti fan veglia dall`ombra dei fossi,
ma sono mille papaveri rossi.
Lungo le sponde del mio torrente
voglio che scendano i lucci argentati
non pi i cadaveri dei soldati
portati in braccio dalla corrente.
Cos dicevi ed era d`inverno
e come gli altri verso l`inferno
te ne vai triste come chi deve
il vento ti spunta in faccia la neve.
Fermati Piero, fermati adesso,
lascia che il vento ti passi un po` addosso,
dei morti in battaglia ti porti la voce,
chi diede la vita ebbe in cambio una croce.
Ma tu non la udisti e il tempo passava,
con le stagioni a passo di giada
ed arrivasti a varcar la frontiera
in un bel giorno di primavera.
E mentre marciavi con l`anima in spalle
vedesti un uomo in fondo alla valle,
che aveva il tuo stesso identico umore,
ma la divisa di un altro colore.
Sparagli Piero, sparagli ora
e dopo un colpo sparagli ancora,
fino a che tu non lo vedrai esangue
cadere in terra, coprire il suo sangue.
E se gli spari in fronte o nel cuore
soltanto il tempo avr per morire,
ma il tempo a me rester per vedere,
vedere gli occhi di un uomo che muore.
E mentre gli usi questa premura,
quello si volta ti vede, ha paura
ed imbracciata l`artiglieria
non ti ricambia la cortesia.
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento
e ti accorgesti in un solo momento
che il tempo non ti sarebbe bastato
a chiedere perdono per ogni peccato.
Cadesti a terra senza un lamento
e ti accorgesti in un solo momento
che la tua vita finiva quel giorno
e non ci sarebbe stato ritorno.
Ninetta mia crepare di maggio
ci vuole tanto, troppo coraggio.
Ninetta bella dritto all`inferno
avrei preferito andarci d`inverno.
E mentre il grano ti stava a sentire,
dentro le mani stringevi il fucile,
dentro la bocca stringevi parole
troppo gelate per sciogliersi al sole.
Dormi sepolto in un campo di grano,
nonla rosa nonil tulipano
che ti fan veglia dall`ombra dei fossi,
ma sono mille papaveri rossi.”
Eric () - 08 01 09 - 19:09

It ain’t short, but if you need these for something, I doubt you’ll need it in Italian.
Eric () - 08 01 09 - 19:13

“Serve”

The human spirit
A mere technicality
no use in reality
to those we live to serve

to those we die to serve
to those we kill to serve

Our reaction
we’re deeply programmed
false knowledge is rammed
by those we live to serve

down our throats
in our mind
out of our mouth

Reality itself is so damn fragile
Who’s to say what is rational

For the words we speak have roots
going far down deep to what we know
but what we know is connected to
how we live,

we live to serve
we live to die
we live to kill
we live to work
WinstonSmith () (URL) - 08 01 09 - 22:03

Very Nice
A.O.C. - 08 01 09 - 23:55

“I am not a pesimist, nor an optimist. I am a realist. I see the world for what it really is. I do not try to make it
what it is not for the comfort of others or myself. I am the devil’s advocate and the angel’s witness. I have been
torn apart and rebuilt with the intention of survival, not self improvement. For me, there is no need to impress,
validate, or convince. I will not try to make you see things from the other side, instead I will show you all sides
and intentionally leave no definite answer for you. Not to toy with you but just to make you think. I do not live
outside the box nor in it. I’m the one who takes the sliver of doubt in your mind and skewers your own views and
everything you hold true. I will try my best to inspire your mind and sabotage it at the same time.
I am a true agent of chaos, promoting order of the mind.”

ME
A.O.C. - 08 01 09 - 23:57

this is a poem i wrote. i don’t know if it really counts. it’s not too long, but it’s more of a rant about the wretch that is American Capitalism, not so much a pro-Anarchist poem:

The Doomed Seed

Within this soil was planted a seed,
A seed that was to grow,
And grow it did — it did indeed,
It grew beyond our wildest dreams.
From bud to bush with roses of red,
but upon closer view thorns adorned their stems.
And so it grew and did not cease,
Until it grew beyond it’s garden,
And stole into it’s neighbor’s soil,
And took it’s place without a pardon.

As time went on more thorns arose,
And the buds began to wither,
And the red shade of each rose,
Changed to violet as they closed,
But the bushes grew and grew,
Though much too large and quite askew.
It weathered winters far too cold,
And summers far too hot,
And though others endured
They were but a small lot.

Now it is winter again,
But this time it is colder,
And the storms have yet to subside,
And it’s branches have brittled as it’s gotten older.
Others will perish unless with haste,
A new seed is planted in it’s place.
So long past this winter,
Upon the vernal equinox,
A new seed must be planted
Among this teeming rot.
[Erik Boyd] () (URL) - 09 01 09 - 00:51

“My country is the world, and my religion is to do good.” Thomas paine
This one () - 10 01 09 - 15:38

“All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing” – whoever said this didnt realize they were talking about anarchy.
This one () - 10 01 09 - 20:10

Here’s a favorite:

Written in red their protest stands,
For the gods of the World to see;
On the dooming wall their bodiless hands
have blazoned “Upharsin,” and flaring brands
Illumine the message: “Seize the lands!
Open the prisons and make men free!”
Flame out the living words of the dead
Written-in-red.

Gods of the World! Their mouths are dumb!
Your guns have spoken and they are dust.
But the shrouded Living, whose hearts were numb,
have felt the beat of a wakening drum
Within them sounding-the Dead men’s tongue—
Calling: “Smite off the ancient rust!”
Have beheld “Resurrexit,” the word of the Dead,
Written-in-red.

Bear it aloft, O roaring, flame!
Skyward aloft, where all may see.
Slaves of the World! Our cause is the same;
One is the immemorial shame;
One is the struggle, and in One name—
MANHOOD— we battle to set men free.
“Uncurse us the Land!” burn the words of the Dead,
Written-in-red.

Here’s an original:

Sordid cavern of the torrid tavern,
A rank but redeeming place
Some hops and a scotch alleviate sobriety’s watch
yet neglect a sprawling shoelace.
Responsibility? More than so.
A response quite slurred is all but assured,
Would you ask this drunkard so low,
“to what goals are your gains allured?”
‘My marriage,’ he’ll respond,
‘Source of an endless prattle’,
And to the door he’ll abscond,
Like a cooped-up cricket of compressed skidattle.
But if you were to keep him,
and continue to press,
he’d provide proper prognosis
of his pangs for redress.
‘I’m employed by quite a scrupulous Lloyd,
and furnished survival by being annoyed.
I’m undertaker for the portraits of presidents,
Printed papyrus, palmed and pasty,
A prized possession, not very tasty –
But I can more than make do!
How dare you suggest of my labor invest!’
Torrid Tavern! Pitiful purgatory of every proletaire soul!
But to propose a progressive route is to insult the slave’s role.
Now it’s not just the barrels, bongs, or bars
Waging war on wage’s woes
The century dawned, and indenturies spawned,
Tethered by technology’s troughs.
Blinking box of a billion-ounce bottle!
Entertain us! Detain us!
For all is well and good,
Enlighten us! Frighten us!
To the coals of hell, if you could?
A mile to here and a mile to there,
But a wave warps distance, and pierces the air –
Such is the state, such is our fate,
in this pane-glass hour so ostensibly late.
Who among us dares turn down the dial?
What courage cares to walk that extra mile?
FAILURE! That’s the grade that those are deemed.
And in all fairness, that must be what is seemed.
Rolling the dice, dolling the vice –
Nonparticipants are losers to those playing the game.
Forward race, rats! To the same tame fame.
BulimicMind - 10 01 09 - 22:20

its not really a poem but a song by one of my favorite bands

Jealous cowards try to control
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
They distort what we say
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
Try and stop what we do
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
When they can’t do it themselves
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
We are tired of your abuse
Try to stop us, it’s no use

Society’s arms of control
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
Think they’re smart, can’t think for themselves
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
Laugh at us behind our backs
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
I find satisfaction in what they lack
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
We are tired of your abuse
Try to stop us, but it’s no use

We are tired of your abuse
Try to stop us, it’s no use

We’re born with a chance
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
I am gonna have my chance
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
We are born with a chance
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
And I am gonna have my chance
Rise above, we’re gonna rise above
We are tired of your abuse
Try to stop us, it’s no use

Rise above
Rise above
Rise above
We’re gonna rise above
We’re gonna rise above
We’re gonna rise above
[mumrah] () - 27 01 09 - 19:56

5min Till Show Time for senator X

As i pinned this flag pendent on my pocket
I wondered what it really means
I thought about the history behind it
The "values" behind it.
Then i looked at the flag out side my window
It Reeks of pride
I also thought about that
I thought about what pride really was
I then took out my notes on the speech that i was supposed to be giving
I read them over and over and over again
so i made sure i could remember the words
I went to read them again
I came across the words "...to protect ourselves from those who infringe upon our freedoms"
I gave it some real thought this time
I thought about who really wanted to infringe upon our freedoms
I thought about my colleagues
I thought about the things they said in their last term
I thought about my mentors and what they taught me
I then remembered the idea that was drilled into my skull as a child
The American Dream
Amber Waves of Grain
I asked my self
does this really exist
I realized that it was just some cruel marketing scheme
for us to buy into the illusion that we’re free
I looked at the clock
5mins till show time
I unpinned my pendant
I went out side
lowered my flag
...and dropped out
annomus - 27 01 09 - 21:30

A.O.C., you actually wrote that? ive read that before on a couple different sites. i always loved it. and [mumrah], thats by black flag if im not mistaken. i think all of their songs are anarchistic :P

and, heres something i wrote a while ago. i think of it as anarchistic

The star of the world we know is setting,
The chaos of the horizon grows ever hungrier,
Colors assimilating; all turn to dark,
No stars of hope or ignorance shine this night,
No moon of reassurance in the distance,
Only a moon of darkest blood,
Its moonbeams striking cold into the minds of the controlling,
The night had been brewing in the stews of revolt long before its come,
Yet only a few of the wise recognized it,
And at this time of violent abolition,
All of the blood eyed sheep turn on the dogs of untruthful daylight,
Now all of the possessed see the dark and embrace it,
For it has finally freed them from the toils of the greed of the gilded,
All now see the lies and wrongs done to them by the illusionists,
And all now have the color of passion in their eyes,
The new day approaches,
With happiness of revelation in the young white horizon,
The night finally rests,
For the deed is now done
It will wait for the next day it is needed,
For the wool is never pure as long as it is held above another’s
Garret - 28 01 09 - 16:53

yup that was me. Curious where else have you seen it posted?
A.O.C. - 29 01 09 - 11:50

Lies

Your speech isn’t
[mumrah] () - 31 01 09 - 08:42

sry my computer fukd up
i actually was writing that in a diffrent forum.

heres a poem form my collection that i wrote any ways

Deceived, Skull Fucked, and Robbed (Give Me Death or Give Me Anarchy)

I dont know what I would do
If I my mind was controlled by you
I’d lose my humanity
and believe that i was truly free

I refuse
to become the fuel
in the vehicle
for the illusion
I cant believe
what they’re telling me
Give me Death or
Give me Anarchy

They wanna rub your balls
While they try to take it all
Your freedom and your brain
They’ll use you for their gain.

I refuse
to become the fuel
in the vehicle
for the illusion
I cant believe
what they’re telling me
Give me Death or
Give me Anarchy
[mumrah] () - 31 01 09 - 09:58

@ A.O.C.: im pretty sure i saw it on totse.com, were you a member?
Garret - 01 02 09 - 13:30

No, I will check it out though.
A.O.C. - 03 02 09 - 12:07

totse.com shut down recently, so that might not be possible. maybe i read it on youtube or something. all i know is that ive read it before.
Garret - 03 02 09 - 12:23

Thats cool, I will look it up.
A.O.C. - 05 02 09 - 12:45

A holy man was having a conversation with God one day and said,
‘God , I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.
‘

God led the holy man to two doors.

He opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in.

In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man’s mouth water.

The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished.

They were holding spoons with very long handles, that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful, but because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths.

The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.

God said, ‘You have seen Hell.
‘

They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one.

There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man’s mouth water.

The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but the people here were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The holy man said, ‘I don’t understand..’

It is simple,’ said God . ‘It requires but one skill.

You see they have learned to feed each other, while the greedy think only of themselves.
‘
A.O.C. - 09 02 09 - 11:37

here’s my original quote i said when my boyfriend and i were talking about life and how fucked the economy is and our different beliefs, although he is understanding more about what I believe in and he’s getting way more into it. Its about how we made up the money system and were all in debt, but if we took away the money everyone is so crazy about, we wouldn’t be heading into “global warming”, money wastes paper, money wastes time.
sorry to be blabbing i just think that whole things some fucked up SHIT.
here it is:
“Living shouldn’t come with a price; for price was created by the living.”
Ashley Zwerdling () (URL) - 20 02 09 - 01:37

Victory is Near
K.W. McCarty
2006

Let me tell you brother man, all the troubles I’ve seen,
From the lowest lows to the highest highs, and all that lies between,
There’s a thing about life, but I no longer stop to care,
It’s always been, will always be gliding through the air,
It’s in the faithful patriot, running toward the fore,
It doesn’t matter to him that there will always be more,
It’s in the old wise man, who only naps and nods,
He understands the meaning, One Nation Under God,
I can see the Light, and Victory is Near,
There can only be one answer, Redemption’s almost here,
There’s this thing about life, maintaining a cold stare,
It’s all encompassing, and exceptions are so rare,
It’s in the aimless rebel, not knowing why he fights,
He starts to feel the feeling, but hasn’t seen the sights,
It’s in the quiet servant, reverently kneeling,
Hurt by all the cruelty, unforgiven stealing,
But by the very end, she’s the one who’s thieving,
The cycle starts again with more misguided grieving,
I can See the Light, and Victory is Near,
One person knows what’s coming, Caesar’s troubled seer,
There’s this thing about life, it leaves the psyche bare,
It controls your television, and determines how you fare,
It’s in the rich philanthropist, looking for a cause,
Searching for some Meaning, escaping Fate’s great jaws,
It’s in the social outcast, who’s wary of his peers,
Finding comfort nowhere, mourning all the years,
I Can See the Light, and Victory is Near,
Pull yourself together, the World is Shifting Gear,
There’s this thing about life, and while it isn’t fair,
In it resides the end of life and Satan’s frozen Lair,
It’s in the homeless vagrant, abandoned all his goals,
Who drinks and thinks his life was just Society’s poor roll,
It’s in the idle wanderer, who ponders all he sees,
He has the chance, above all else, to set his life at ease,
There’s this thing about life, making all so dear,
But then again it is the source of all our wretched tears,
Because, you see, our victory was never very clear,
And of all the things in history, the thing I see is Fear.
Kevin McCarty () (URL) - 07 03 09 - 12:52

United They Fall Together, Divided They Fall Alone. All “Good” things come to an End. This one to, shall pass.
Munky () - 27 04 09 - 10:19

“It is no great measure of health to be considered well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”
krayz () - 23 06 09 - 11:05

Great poem and it’s make me feel that I’m not alone. Rulers in the Philippines are corrupt and fascists. Many people are poor and must vote for money. If someone here can help for Philippines independent against corrupt rulers, I wish you guys will visit here someday and teach me how to be free.
carlium () - 25 06 09 - 04:55

I am an anarchist! Wherefore I will not rule and also ruled I will not be.

—John Henry Mackay
B.e.A.s.t. - 01 07 09 - 19:43

http://www.levelvip.com
http://www.saleveling.com
http://www.power-leveling-game.com
wow power leveling () (URL) - 22 10 09 - 01:13