anarchist poetry

“Feeling forgotten feels worst than dying” a poem by Eric King in solidarity with Chelsea Manning

They take away your voice

you loose touch with yourself.

If you aren’t moving forward

do we even exist?

Instagram, tinder, never made a hashtag.

Everyone is street walking

playing Pokemon Go

I don’t even have a phone.

It’s so easy to feel alone

Feeling Forgotten Feels worse

than dying.

They turned your story into a crime

tortured you for daring to exist

must have hurt those fuckers

to know so many people listen.

Flowers can grow in concrete,

can we grow in cells?

The easiest thing in the world

is to feel you’ve lost touch,

and it hurts so much,

Solidarity Chelsea

July 14, 2016July 14, 2016

“If Tamir was named Andy from the Hamptons” a poem by Eric King

Every breath is an air of defiance

sparks flying I breathe fire

What happened in the Lorraine

happened in Ferguson & Batton Rouge

Police keeping cities safe

passing out freedom bullets

Black bodies not regarded as anything

more than click-bait and hot topics

If Tamir was named Andy

from the Hamptons

maybe it’d make a fucking difference?!

This isn’t gang violence, its state violence

its race violence, it shouldn’t exist but

so often does happen without outrage

from the privileged to well off

to be outspoken

This isn’t new it’s just finally on the news

cause people took to the streets

& when told to disperse they refused

So painful but its true

Blue Lives Murder

“One of these days I’m gonna break these chains” a poem by Eric King

I wake up alone

in a box that ain’t my home

without the love I call my own

people who live in glass houses

I envy them all

people who live in cages

must throw stones

tear the skin sticking to my bones

got a spoon to dig down straight

only digging the plot to my own grave

if my body can’t , then my mind will escape

my enemy wears authority instead of a face

I wake up alone

but we cannot break

freedom is on the phone

she holds me in one piece

I wake up with a hole

that she fills complete

battered & bruised but on my feet

one day I’ll awake

within a home that’s all our own

we will bury the past

start our own damn show

I wake up with a heart that is filled with gold

love so powerful it could explode.

“Oh the life of a snitch” a poem by Eric King

Oh, the life of a snitch

you get caught with a ki

won’t even do 3

that’s one hell of a plea

you’re a snitch!

***

Number one on your conspiracy

but you’d rather be free

smooth rolling in P.C.

“he was gonna tell on me”

sure he was, you’re a snitch!

***

You sure like to talk and plan

then turn witness for the man

your life’s more important

trust the community understands

hypocrite anarcho-snitch!

***

Swear “fuck the cops till I die”

prison looks at you and smiles

whoops next day you’re a C.I.

where’d they hide the wire guy?

Slimy recording snitch!

***

Free a thousand bunnies or two

but finger the entire crew

raise your hand and swear to speak the truth

what’d they expect you to do

Greasy Eco-snitch!