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Bloodline of King Yashayah May 2017
"ism"
abolitionism
absenteeism
absolutism
abstractionism
absurdism
acad­emicism
academism
achromatism
acrotism
actinism
activism
adoptian­ism
adoptionism
adventurism
aeroembolism
aestheticism
ageism
agis­m
agnosticism
agrarianism
alarmism
albinism
alcoholism
aldosteron­ism
algorism
alienism
allelism
allelomorphism
allomorphism
alpini­sm
altruism
amateurism
amoralism
anabaptism
anabolism
anachronism­
analphabetism
anarchism
anecdotalism
aneurism
anglicism
animalis­m
animism
anisotropism
antagonism
anthropocentrism
anthropomorphi­sm
anthropopathism
antialcoholism
antiauthoritarianism
antiblacki­sm
anticapitalism
anticlericalism
anticolonialism
anticommerciali­sm
anticommunism
antielitism
antievolutionism
antifascism
antifem­inism
antiferromagnetism
antihumanism
antiliberalism
antimaterial­ism
antimilitarism
antinepotism
antinomianism
antiquarianism
anti­racism
antiradicalism
antirationalism
antirealism
antireductionis­m
antiritualism
antiromanticism
antiterrorism
aphorism
apocalypti­cism
apocalyptism
archaism
asceticism
assimilationism
association­ism
asterism
astigmatism
asynchronism
atavism
atheism
athleticism­
atomism
atonalism
atropism
atticism
autecism
authoritarianism
au­tism
autoecism
autoeroticism
autoerotism
automatism
automorphism
­baalism
baptism
barbarianism
barbarism
behaviorism
biblicism
bibl­iophilism
bicameralism
biculturalism
bidialectalism
bilateralism
­bilingualism
bimetallism
biologism
bioregionalism
bipartisanism
b­ipedalism
biracialism
blackguardism
bogyism
bohemianism
bolshevis­m
boosterism
bossism
botulism
bourbonism
boyarism
bromism
brutism­
bruxism
bureaucratism
cabalism
caciquism
cambism
cannibalism
cap­italism
careerism
casteism
catabolism
catastrophism
catechism
cav­alierism
centralism
centrism
ceremonialism
charism
charlatanism
c­hauvinism
chemism
chemotropism
chimaerism
chimerism
chrism
chroma­ticism
cicisbeism
cinchonism
civicism
civism
classicism
classism
­clericalism
clonism
cockneyism
collaborationism
collectivism
coll­oquialism
colonialism
colorism
commensalism
commercialism
communa­lism
communism
communitarianism
conceptualism
concretism
confessi­onalism
conformism
congregationalism
connubialism
conservatism
co­nstitutionalism
constructivism
consumerism
controversialism
conve­ntionalism
corporatism
corporativism
cosmism
cosmopolitanism
cosm­opolitism
countercriticism
counterculturalism
counterterrorism
cr­eationism
credentialism
cretinism
criticism
cronyism
cryptorchidi­sm
cryptorchism
cubism
cultism
cynicism
czarism
dadaism
dandyism
­defeatism
deism
demonism
denominationalism
despotism
determinism
­deviationism
diabolism
diamagnetism
Isms are every where
Continue reading...
Mydriasis Aletheia Jul 2019
How To Hack A Dystopia
We stepped, unknowing, into the shadows
cast
by social media; postmodern realities emerged,
Crafted
from big data. We're caught in the world wide web,
Caught between
"the electron and the switch".
Cambridge Analytica,
Data Propira;
Technocracy,
Algocracy.

Enticed
by a promise
of what could be,
"Trust your technolust"
was the advice those hopefuls gave me.
Their optimism, innocent naivety, glitched history.
I can't sign out
of my social media account.
Anxiety's got me in her grip.

How do we fight the power,
Will privacy prevail?
Data rights
would promise us
a patch for this great hack,
But
there'll always be shadows
as long as there's light,
Those who declare
anonymity is
their right.
Cyberpunks, cypherpunks, crypto-anarchism
won't be enough.
As is, potentials' -liberalism and -libertarianism
duke it out.
The electron remains, but one wonders
as 'the switch' gives way
to something all the more quantum.
Recommended watching:
The Great Hack (2019)

Quotes:
Line Seven from The Hacker Manifesto by +++The Mentor+++ (January 8, 1986)
Line Fifteen seen in Hackers (1995)
#hack
Continue reading...
Dan Jun 2017
The Anarchist Tension by Alfredo Bonanno by Daniel Robinson
When you ask the right question and get the answer you hoped wouldn't come
When you find the truth and it's what you wished you'd never see
You can feel it in the back of your mind
The tension
That feeling in your head that things aren't what you thought and they probably never were
It's something you gotta sweat out before it clogs up your brain and your heart
All learning is alleviation of tension
All decisions too
You can't run from it and you shouldn't want to
In dialectics you have thesis, antithesis, and synthesis
What is, why it shouldn't, and what must come next

I promise that I'll never come to a final conclusion about what Anarchism really means
Because anarchy means standing up for your neighbors
Anarchy means letting the people you care about have the choice to not have you in their life
Anarchy means embracing what you love even when it kills you
And maybe it's up to me to make each day worth living
To get out of bed and have a good reason for doing so
Because some of us have to carry the baggage of being awake each day
And some of us live their days painfully sober carrying the pain of emotions unhindered
But the pain I feel now is as meaningless as the imaginary lines that separate countries or the flags that fly over them
My pain is meaningless compared to the knowledge I stepped back so that you could live life according to what you want
Because being an anarchist means living life in accordance to what you think
And that's always been hard for me
For once I knew exactly what I wanted
But I also knew deep down you weren't ever as sure as I was
And here we return to the tension
The tension that has kept me up a few nights and forced be to go on long walks until my feet hurt instead of my heart
The tension that left me feeling like nothing, but not in the way Max Stirner intended it
So instead of hiding this tension or letting it eat away at me like so many times before
I have to live according to what I think
So we have the thesis: looking for stars through a wall of clouds and the hope I had in my heart
The antithesis: uncertainty and a sentimental past two steps ahead of me
The synthesis: Realizing that I need to let you go
Continue reading...
Xan Abyss Jul 2014
**** Nihilism
**** humans.
**** animals.
**** political parties.
**** anarchism.
**** art.
**** science.
**** religion, faith and spirituality.
**** music.
**** noise.
**** sports.
**** nerdy ****.
**** drugs, **** and alcohol.
**** sobriety.
**** vegetarianism&veganism.;
**** the meat industry and hunters.
**** feminism.
**** patriarchy.
**** the War.
**** pacifism.
**** your body type.
**** junk food.
**** fitness.
**** nationalism.
******* if you hate your homeland.
**** your belief.
**** your non-belief.
**** your pseudo-belief.
**** your job and **** everyone without a job.
All of us are wrong and do not deserve to live.
But then why does it matter?
It doesn't.
Nothing does.
I, we, all of us and everything spinning away in this perpetually expanding universe,
100% is equally worthless in the scheme of existence.
The infinite gaping void of time will swallow it all and destroy it inevitably.
That is entropy.
Everything will eventually cease to be.
Our jobs, families, lives, and our entire history not just as a species, but as an entire solar system, will eventually mean zilch forever.
Nothing matters, it never really has and it is never really going to.
But we're all here, aren't we?
Regardless.
So what are we gonna do?
Nothing?
Why?
Because it's the only thing that matters? Nothing?
Why does it have to matter?
If everything is equally worthless and insignifcant in the grand, cosmically entropic scheme of this progressively more and more infinite universe,
Then who the **** cares what we care about?
If nothing matters, why does it matter?
It doesn't.
Nothing does.
So are we going to sit around and waste away because we know nothing will last forever?
Deny ourselves of the (albeit completely worthless and unimportant) experiences that this universe has to offer?
**** ***?
**** love?
**** music?
**** art?
**** cinema?
**** great food, cooked who by people who love to cook great food?
**** writing, and poetry?
**** sports, the thrill of the game, the roar of the crowd when the underdog scores a goal for their country?
**** culture?
**** trying new things and going new places?
**** creating new life? Raising a family?
Seeing your children graduate?
Who cares that it makes you happy, right?
That you exist in a realm where you are able to feel joy?
Or euphoria?
Or ecstasy?
How about,
**** that negative *******?
The universe is the most incredible thing in existence -
Because it IS existence.
There is nothing worse, and nothing greater, there is only what is.
And what is, is beautiful,
and Terrifying,
and Magical,
and completely,
100%
REAL.
Reality is infinitely fascinating, wonderful, divine, tangible, wicked, dangerous, and intoxicating.
And human beings are all too lost with their heads to the ground
Or the sky,
Peering into cracks and shadows,
Chasing dragons and vices and dreams,
Searching for perhaps the only thing in existence,
Which truly does not exist:
Meaning,
to see it.
Being crushed and destroyed and surrendering their hope, and faith and love in the universe once they do not find it.
Humanity, and perhaps all intelligent life,
(though we may never find out)
Is distracted by the questions,
"Why am I here?"
"What is the meaning of life?"
And thus hindered from ever finding it
in their own
Meaningless
way.
Continue reading...
Brandi Nov 2013
Not a poem... Just my treasures
Two men have given me books in my lifetime... up to this moment. I wish more had. When I graze my fingers horizontally along the spines of each story shoved into my shelves only two books cause them to stop and linger. A book is such an underrated gift.
The first boy to give me a book knows a side of me that no one else does. I talk to him constantly despite the distance, yet I can't save him. He has an addictive personality. It's the drugs, it's the alcohol, it's the sadness, it's the tortured creativeness in him, it's the live life fast anarchism of **** the world. I've been careless with the book he gave me. It has sat neglected for a long time, I haven't even finished it. I've tried but I just can't get into it. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, as you can tell from the title it is all about taking mad amounts of LSD while living during the 70s and following around a bunch of now famous bands and being wild and being untethered from social constraints. He gave me a piece of his freedom fetish that intimidates me because I know deep down that if we're together we'd tear through the world in a feverish pace. So fast that there's no way we could live a decent life without having burned up everything we could ever do that it'd have to die tragically and quickly.
The second boy gave me a bittersweet love story set in a world filled with magic. It's characters had tattoos of protection symbols, strange powers, and a girl in love with a boy who ****** her off but was gorgeous in a bad way. The boy who gave me this story hid behind his tattoos and made me promise to not fall in love with him during our first date. I read the novel nonstop and finished it two days later. He gave me the sequel with the stipulation that I give away these books whenever I was done with them to someone I thought would truly appreciate them. I cried after the second book and like the story's main characters we couldn't get pass our self-made obstacles to make our love work. For a year I refused to pass them on for it was one of the few things I had left of this boy. Until the day I sat by an army officer on the plane home and he was almost done with the first novel and I coincidentally had the second novel. It was just too coincidental to pass up on so I gave the man a story to carry with him. A story he didn't even know was deeper than the words on the pages. I still have the first book and always will just like the tiny, faint, tender pink scar he left in my heart.
**** diamonds, **** flowers, **** songs, **** baby animals, **** anything trivial you could ever give me as a girl. **** all that **** other women like. Give me a book, a story, a poem, a letter, and i'll remember you forever.
Continue reading...
Jacob Oates Sep 2013
Writers block (tell us what is!)
It’s like passing a ******* kidney stone that doesn’t even exist, one that lingers and claws on your minds eye like a cyst upon creation

it’s a focus shift, a pool of indifference, a cry before an inner audience uninterested in the parchment, too jaded to focus and too faded to care

it’s an outside perspective on your own ******* process, “this guy’s mouthing off like he’s got something to say, who is this ******* and why should we care”

it’s when the ratio of happening to happenstance breaks the mold of your monotonous grind, when the words set to define the sounds of a generation fall into a digital pool of overpopulated subterfuge

It’s a deflated message and an idealist’s shift to anarchism,  too ******* at the cynics and too distraught to bother with a response

It’s like starting to *******,  giving yourself blue *****, and not calling yourself back for a second date
Continue reading...
Julius Nov 2013
...English Student Ramble #1
He laughs so hard it feels like he's laughing at you

Comedy is the best Philosophy
After a Tragic History
My Head will never be ******* on again

Lose weight and get laid
Is the typical answer to everything
Marriage is the be all and end all
Driving  a stake into the ground and settling up camp
Highest grade imaginable
Hearty losers making an early deathbed
Don't bury me when I'm gone, I don't want that brown soil
Ideas buried alive in the dirt of my mind
Figures, I'd have to chase it actually
Watching scores grab at me
Fearing me naturally
Mum! I'm going Off
Stop Smoking ****
                                    Stop Smoking ****

Hard Knock Life, Ghetto Anthem
The Struggle is Beautiful
We are the Blessing
Black is Cool, White: Innocent?
What do We do, Now Equality is Assumed?
Feminism isn't cool
Anarchism's for...fools
(?)Hope you consider the meaning of words
Hope redefinitions start teaching us words
Language is a paradox, we can't refute words
Panic at the infinite, our romance is absurd

Paper aeroplanes will litter my hall
Children at my mercy, I have to teach them to fall
Teach them to pick themselves up and go forth

Trying to be the same Slave that I bought
Forget being humble I'm heading for the Lowlands
I'm singing across the riverside, rapping my feet along the path
Dire through the mire, hip hopping across rocky foundations
Beat dropping like a generation, the way is the destination
No direction to this poem, no direction home,
Lost in the world, see through my Third Eye

I'm laughing so hard now it's all in a dream
Would it be best to die at your happiest moment?
Just know I did it for Hip Hop,
Promise that you will sing about me when I'm gone
And I did it for Jay

My Best Mate
Continue reading...
Kay Ireland Aug 2017
Boston
There's **** on the floor of the Blue Line.
It's one in the afternoon,
Tuesday.

This is the poetry
I don't like writing.

About the Fight Club anarchism
without the sense of purpose.

I watch a man cry
over a woman's leftover Chipotle.

Eight feet away:
the passage of pills between palms.
I don't know the contents
any better than they do.

I keep my blind eye
and loose change.

I keep my middle class pride
safe for another day.
#boston #anarchy #drugs #addiction
Continue reading...
Auss Jun 2014
Anarchism
It's the scourge of the seas
Dearest Anarchy
Terror of all countries
Makes them shake at the knee

Anarchy is not chaos
It is not random
It has rules
Just none to command them

It is peace
It is serene
It gives the word self
a deeper mean
Continue reading...
Dan Jul 2017
The Ego Is Its Own (A Letter to Max Stirner and my Self)
What in this world can I understand but me?
Whose pain is this if not mine?
Whose voice is this if not mine?
All I can ever be is my Self
All I can ever truly know is me and mine
I'm trapped in the chains of my own Ego and I know **** well that those chains are ones you can't shake off
Max Stirner you tell me I should only act in my self interest
You tell me that all things are my property if I exert my will over them
But you don't know a **** thing about me Max
How many hells would I create for the people I know if I exerted that will?
You must have had the luxury to not have anger like mine
You must have not ever experienced the fire in the back of your mind and the bricks in the pit of your stomach when life throws you for a loop
You don't know how bitter I can become
Your egoism would be poison in my blood

Max I look into the mirror and wonder if that's you I see
Hiding in my mind behind my irises peering back and laughing
I have such distaste for the things you preach but why am I so fixated on letting the world know that?
And suddenly it's all clear
Max Stirner you are my shadow
You are everything about myself that I cannot accept
You are every clenched fist at the thought of someone I love loving someone else
You are every scowl on my face when I feel like I'm surrounded by people who don't give a **** about what I have to say
You are every night I stewed in my own mind because nothing went how I wanted

I want to be rid of my ego
I want to live a life where I'm never in the way of anyone pursuing what they want
So what do I do now?
Because maybe you aren't entirely wrong Max
I am free when I take responsibility for my actions it's true
Do I want to be a good man because it is in my self interest to do so?
And is love nothing but a ghost of my mind?
A spectre that disappears as soon as I reach my hand out to it
They tell me love is just a bunch of chemicals in my brain anyway
But ****** it's my brain and it's my chemicals
They are mine and so my property

So Max, we'll never agree in our anarchism
At the end of the day I believe in causes and powers bigger than my ego
But I have a respect for your beliefs
Because I know all too well
All I can ever be is me
All I can ever understand is my self
Continue reading...
Jana Chehab Jan 2016
Analgesic
I wanted to speak of his powers
As King preached for liberty
The world seems to know of legends and Englishmen behind platforms
of heroes and villains on stages
and maybe of some med students explaining how unprotected *** leads to ***
But tongues have not yet spoken of his rampant ability
to be a beacon and a tempest
how he could raze and raise
abate and abet
I wanted to tell them
Why the soil recall his footsteps
And the leaves hiss as he exhales
But he dresses in polyester and he even walks unmasked
Everyone speaks of anarchism and GMOs
Then fetch a beer and watch the football game on live stream
I wonder if roses are cowards which embrace their raspy thorns
But then I remember how I would grasp you in a heartbeat
And I wanted to tell the world of your powers
Continue reading...
Sarah Pavlak Nov 2020
Burning Man
Our home is burning.
Moths and lilies are breaking the woodwork.
They are fluttering closer to our fumbling feet.
Your grandmother’s wallpaper has never looked so beautiful.

I used to spend my nights in the silence between the sofa cushions,
Trying to organize the history of anarchism,
Wondering why the persimmons had been bitter to us,
And why you could not distinguish stones from bread.

On the day God decided to forsake virgins,
I went off to the market, closing the door behind me softly.
Our foundation disappeared behind me.
Somewhere, I believe, you are still dancing.
#stones #bread #moths #lilies #god #virgins #burning #dancing
Continue reading...
Evan Hayes Jan 2015
New Year? Oh please
It's that time of year
Right after the buckets of cheer
Resolutions to lose waste
After you just stuffed your face
And then you'll shed a tear
Cause you can't finish a race

Oh I know, this year I want good luck
Why don't you stop for a good ****
Get you out of this conservatism
And in to anarchism
Get out of this rut and muck
It's like politics in a monarchism

Oh this year I'll be different
No this year you end with repent
Just like the last
Stuck in the past
You could be a parent
Or end up being chaste

Oh I want to focus on relationship
Congrats, you got kissed on the lip
At midnight
Let's set sight
Don't throw a fit
Let's hang tight

There is no "new year new you"

You can change
Just don't rely on your calendar
to do it for you
#love #******* #new #me #newyear #resolution
Continue reading...
Dan Jul 2017
The Ego Is Its Own (a letter to Max Stirner and my Self)
What in this world can I understand but me?
Whose pain is this if not mine?
Whose voice is this if not mine?
All I can ever be is my Self
All I can ever truly know is me and mine
I live in the shadow of my own Ego and I know **** well I cannot escape it
Max Stirner you tell me I should only act in my self interest
You tell me that all things are my property if only I reach out and take them
But do you know what it is I want Max?
You have never met me
I worry that what I want would be a hell for the people I care about
You must have had the luxury to not have anger like mine
You must have not ever experienced the fire in the back of your mind and the bricks in the pit of your stomach when life throws you for a loop
You don't know how bitter I can become
Can your egoism really help me?

Max I look into the mirror and wonder if that's you I see
Hiding in my mind behind my irises peering back
I had such distaste for the things you preach but why was I so fixated on letting the world know that?
And suddenly it's all clear
Max Stirner you are my shadow
You are everything about myself that I have trouble accepting
You are every clenched fist at the thought of someone I love loving someone else
You are every scowl on my face when I feel like I'm surrounded by people who don't give a **** about what I have to say
You are every night I stewed in my own mind because nothing went how I wanted

When I first wrote this poem,
I wanted to be rid of my ego
I want to live a life where I'm never in the way of anyone pursuing what they want
And I still do
So what do I do now?
Because you aren't entirely wrong Max
I am free when I take responsibility for my actions it's true
Maybe I am the unique one, the creative nothing, the indescribable qualities that make me who I am
And so is everyone else
And just because I say something is "mine" doesn't mean that it can't also be "ours"
Do I want to be a good man because it is in my self interest to do so?
Do I possess the tools to set myself free?
And is love nothing but a ghost of my mind?
A spectre that disappears as soon as I reach my hand out to it?
Do I love because it pleases me to do so?
They tell me love is just a bunch of chemicals in my brain anyway
But ****** it's my brain and it's my chemicals
They are mine
They are my property

So Max, we might not agree in our anarchism
At the end of the day I believe in causes and powers bigger than myself
But I have a respect for your beliefs
Because I know all too well
All I can ever be is me
All I can ever understand is my self
Recent edit because my opinions have changed
Continue reading...
Appoline Romanens Aug 2016
Scorpio
Scorpio

The aesthetics of masochism:
Finding happiness
In overwhelming
Pain’s sublime
Fighting tooth and nail
Out of mind
That and those who hail
To destroy him
That sign
Such  anarchism!

He can hate to love
And even love to hate
Triggering passions
His joke. He enjoys
Being yours, yours entirely
But hidden, the scorpio
Will never admit
He can make you split

Like some shining schist
Engraved in hearts
The lover’s torment
Is stubborn inside
He finds a destructive bliss
In desire’s abyss
But his stinger
Points towards you, lover!

August 20, 2015
Translation
Oullins’ multimedia library
My sign, the scorpio
Continue reading...
Noandy Oct 2015
Visiting the Sea Sleepwalking
The pre-insomniacs
know nothing of the stars
And none of their amorous prayers
Or any way
The highest noon confessed
At the pulpit of the raging sea
When nothing came half romantic
But the oceanic lone wolves
Dying on cold tears
And prone to scenic anarchism
To answer the dying songs never to last
Sunlighted
Seahunted,
With their bare legs
Penning down your name
Upon asked
What would they grant
For the tombstone in the noon
And the star post-romantic
They muttered:
“None but your moon—”
In exchange, for those wolves
Are only
Your lone loves
Continue reading...
Sam Stone Grenier May 2015
Blasphemy
blasphemy
to regard America as ****
I am shot by words
those bullets
living in a country

inept
******* blind
look and tell me
that we're not ******
happiness will make you deaf

people still won't see
the gunshots in their living rooms
ripping away at their sofas
their recliners they die in
sorry used all the glue

for my head to the television
I march into this institution
you tell me we don't need ******* change?
these riots
sparks to this fire

change
please never stop ******* with this higher power
it's us
it's who we are
peasants

monarchy
communism
anarchism
Jesus (**** him)
this land is stained with blood

I am grass
let me work
Sandburg
stop working
it won't stop

there is no harmony
Sandburg
you're dead
the optimism-- deafening
shut the **** up

god will not save me now
I am above that ****
glistening in the sun
do you hear America singing?
the same song since the dawn of time

we walk as dead men
we walk as dead women
Continue reading...

— The End —