[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Anarchist Waltz

Why should I be a good citizen/slave
When I'd much rather be free?
Why should I serve your Society's laws?
What good have they been to me? Tell me that.
What good have they been to me?

What makes Society holy as hell?
What makes you think it's so rare?
People make rules as they live all the time.
Morals come cheaper than air. Cheaper than dirt!
Morals come cheaper than air.

What kind of God has your Nation become?
Something to make people serve?
You're standing on merit you've long since worn out.
I'm only what you deserve. Little me!
I'm only what you deserve.

Lockstep by lockstep, you push them around,
All these good folk who Believe,
Perverting their trust into slavery for life.
Thank you, but I'd rather leave. Escape!
Thank you, but I'd rather leave.

What will you do when your victims awake,
When they see how you've buggered them all?
I'll be lending a hand when they topple your gates.
I'll be laughing like hell when you fall. With a crash!
Laughing like hell when you fall!

by Leslie Fish
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Bring It Down

We don't like this world we've made!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
We take World War Three in trade!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Risk the fire in the midnight sky,
The rain of hell when the ashes fly --
Just so long as the generals die!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!
Bring it down! Bring it down!)

We don't like the work we do!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Nothing useful, safe, or true!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Faceless bureaucrats in the hills
Drive us down at the pace that kills --
They get dividends, we get bills!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)

We don't like society!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
No one here is really free!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Freedom's dream has fallen far,
A million rules have dimmed its star --
We don't like the way we are!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)

Laws and orders hem us in --
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Give us our frontier again!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Slowly growing deepset rage
Breaks the bars of the paper cage,
'Till the gear wheels disengage!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)

No reform will save the day!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Sweep this garbage all away!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
Fearless rage and deathless hate
Grow the worse, the more we wait --
To save our planet, smash the State!
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)
(Bring it down! Bring it down!)

By Leslie Fish
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Cripples' Shield-Wall

Consider the plight of the one-legged knight
As he braces his crutch with his shield;
He’ll stand still and wait till you come for the bait,
Then you’ll find that the bastard won’t yield!
Do you knock his one leg down, there’s still no relief,
He’ll crawl down the field with his sword in his teeth;
And the reach of his sword-arm defies all belief
Where he fights in the Cripples’ Shield-Wall.

Beware the old dame who’s arthritic and lame,
So knee-sprung she barely can stand;
But her hands and her eye are still steady and spry –
She’s the best crossbow-shot in the land!
With a repeating crossbow and war-arrow blade
She can pierce any armor that’s ever been made –
Be glad she’s not drawn to the highwayman’s trade!
She just fights in the Cripples’ Shield-Wall!

Pray do not go near the knight who can’t hear:
Though he can’t tell command-calls at all,
He reads signs from his friends, and his post he defends
With a lightning-fast seven-foot maul!
They say when it’s whirling it raises a breeze,
And the head on its chain has been known to break trees –
So when he starts swinging, the prudent man flees
Where he fights in the Cripples’ Shield-Wall!

No profit you’ll find from the knight who is blind.
He can hear you twelve paces away:
He’ll listen off-hand till he’s sure where you stand,
Then his bill-hook reaps far more than hay!
He can fight in the forest, the river, the plain,
With his hearing unhampered by dark, fog, or rain –
He must know his ground, but he’ll sure bring you pain
Where he fights in the Cripples’ Shield-Wall!

Watch out in the fight for the cripple-armed knight
Whose hand can’t swing up – only down,
For he’ll watch through the dance till he spies a good chance,
Then his downstroke will cost you your crown!
His shield-arm will raise up his sword-arm, and then
He’ll watch for a chance with his downstroke again –
You know that he’ll strike, but you never know when,
And he fights in the Cripples’ Shield-Wall!

Beware, I implore, all ye masters of war
Who prefer to draft healthy young boys;
For the blind, halt, and lame can be good at this game,
When well-placed, defending the toys.
They’ve learned their art well, and they strike hard and true –
If they’ve something to prove, then they’ll prove it on you!
The last line on Earth that you’d want to drive through,
You can swear, is the Cripples’ Shield-Wall!
Beware of the Cripples’ Shield-Wall!

By Leslie Fish
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Mount Tam

Here I sit on the head of Mount Tam.
Might as well be in Vietnam.
The battle is coming soon.
The stars are hid, but the sky is gray
With the lights of the cities that ring the Bay
In the shape of a crescent moon. So --

If there be anything here
That cometh not in the name of the Powers of Light,
Then in the name of the Powers of Light, let it be gone!


Cities live. The stones have soul
As long as one dweller stands up whole,
And here are three million lives.
Their spirit runs through the nerves of wire,
Through the concrete bones and the furnace-fire.
The body of stone survives. So --

Warnings groan that the deep plate-crack
Will shake one burden from Earth's green back.
Tonight one of us goes down.
So here we fight with our wizards' force
To shift the fault in its other course --
And swallow the Southern Crown! So --

We who feel the currents of power
Have no rest in the darkening hour
Of a war that we did not choose.
But if some city must fall to brine,
I swear that city shall not be mine.
I do not intend to lose! So --

So aim the bolt, and raise the shield.
The choice is cruel, but we dare not yield
When life is the prize of war.
San Andreas, we curse your name
As we strike your fault with our silent flame
And deflect, and deflect once more! Sing!

If there be anything here
That cometh not in the name of the Powers of Light,
Then in the name of the Powers of Light, let it be gone!


by Leslie Fish
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Arizona Sword

"Blacksmith make a sword for me, such as none did ever see,
For ancient symbols of majesty have power in troubled times.
Blacksmith, make me a magic sword, one that will make me the valley's lord,
Where folk will hail with one accord to save them from their crimes."

Seeing he would not be deterred, the blacksmith took him at his word
And pondered long on what he'd heard about this would-be lord.
He pumped the fire and he made his start, melted iron in the fire's heart,
But he named the steel with an older art the Arizona Sword.

He chanted words to the blazing mix, of ancient Red Men's and White Men's tricks
To draw a spirit, and purpose fix in what the blade would feel.
The iron laws from Nature's hand, the ruthless will of the desert land,
The freedom no one can command -- and cast that thought in steel.

And when the blacksmith's work was done, the new sword gleamed like the setting sun.
All down the blade did the old runes run, a warning plain to see.
The steel was grained like the finest wood, a full yard long and more it stood.
The runes read, 'I serve but the good of life and liberty.'"

Near the hilt, set in copper wire, a phoenix rose up from the pyre.
A copper star within the fire rayed out copper cords.
The grip was like a saguaro made that clasped a moon in quartz and jade.
In truth, like as no other blade was the Arizona Sword."

"Blacksmith, well have ye served my cause. This shall aid me to make the laws.
Hmmm, the guards are shaped like cougar's paws; in truth, like none I've seen.
The price is steep, but I shall not carp. She'll sing more praise than a minstrel's harp.
Ye gods, that blade is razor-sharp!...For a symbol very keen."

"And cheap She'll be if I strike ye dead!" The blacksmith promptly turned and fled.
The lordling laughed and shrugged instead, and went out to meet his horde.
He cried out, "This is the day foretold. Just one hand now this land shall hold,
for in this sign will I rule. Behold the Arizona Sword!'"

No more argument shall we find, but all hereafter shall be inclined
To just one purpose and just one mind. Thus do I mean to do.
Now go ye forth, and take the land." The sword heard well his first comand.
She lunged and twisted in his hand, and fell, and ran him through."

They say the sword vanished clean away, for none has heard of it since that day,
But seek it wisely, and find ye may. Take care, who would be lord.
Beware, ye tyrant! Beware, ye fool! For who is the master and who the tool?
Ye may well serve, but ye shall not rule, the Arizona Sword.

by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/xohmUNBvtvQ

[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Sun Is Also A Warrior

Two men walked on the beach in the sun.
One left footprints, the other left none.
One was a man who no man obeys;
The other a god from the ancient days.
"Look," said the man, "how my kind make war.
I summoned you here to ask what for."
"For wealth or land," the god replies,
"For life, or freedom, or some king's lies."

The sun is also a warrior.
Knowledge can also destroy.
Nor can the kindest will,
Preserve you from the kill.
Not all of wisdom brings joy.


"Four of those five," the first one said,
Are not enough to appease the dead.
To save my world all this strife must cease,
So now I bid you to conjure peace."
The god said "Yes. Though it grieves me sore,
For I was also a god of war,
And I remember what you forget,
Four of those five you may still regret."

He raised his voice and he raised his hand.
All strife stopped at the god's command.
No voice ventured an angry word,
No hand struck and no weapon stirred.
In time, the man called the old god back.
"Look," he cried, "what my people lack!
One lord rules over all the earth,
And we're all his slaves from the hour of birth."

"Look, he owns all wealth, and he owns all land,
We starve and die under his command.
He speaks the truth and he gives us peace,
But all that I hope for is our release."
The old god said, "This is what you willed.
For only thus is your wish fulfilled.
War's five sources I took away,
Yet I will give four of them back today."

He raised his hand and his voice once more,
And all the world overturned in war.
And when the last of those fires let fall,
There was no lord in the world at all.
"Go rebuild now," the old god said,
"Feed the living and bury the dead,
And remember this when you speak of war,
And think upon what is worth fighting for."

by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/Pq4SSlsZ_p0

[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Tienanmen Lessons

We come marching down the street (Sing high, sing low)
Knowing well what we will meet (Too well we know!)
Cops come up with clubs held high (Sing high, sing low)
To drag us off or watch us die (Too well we know!)

Chicago here, Kronshtadt there,
Arrogant governments everywhere,
They all lead to Tienanmen Square (too well we know.)


Cops run up to make us yield,
We all crouch and lock our shields;
They beat on our tortuga wall
Until they tire and back they fall.

They fall back and draw their guns
Shout their warnings, fire as one,
We brace hard our Lexan shield
The bullets bounce and fly afield.

They throw tear gas here and yon,
We all have our gas masks on,
The gas blows back into their face,
They turn 'round and off they race.

Now we build our barricades,
In three rows the logs are laid,
Lying, sitting, standing height,
Load our guns and wait to fight.

Soldiers come to shoot and burn,
Rank on rank we fire in turn,
Aim--fire--load--repeat,
Mass-fire volleys clear the street.

Tanks come rumbling toward us then,
Now, stand up, bazooka men;
Homemade rockets fire and flash,
Turn the tanks to burning trash!

Helicopters buzzing by
The SR rockets reach that high,
Fly too high, they miss their aim;
Fly too low, go down in flame.

Clubs and bullets, choppers, tanks,
You can have 'em with our thanks,
Rifle, shield and rocket load
Can give the people back their road!

Chicago here, Kronshtadt there,
Arrogant governments everywhere,
They all lead to Tienanmen Square (too well we know.)


by Leslie Fish

Tienanmen Square Massacre, June 4, 1989
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Sun Is Also A Warrior

Two men walked on the beach in the sun.
One left footprints, the other left none.
One was a man who no man obeys;
The other a god from the ancient days.
"Look," said the man, "how my kind make war.
I summonned you here to ask what for."
"For wealth or land," the god replies,
"For life, or freedom, or some king's lies."

"The sun is also a warrior.
Knowledge can also destroy.
Nor can the kindest will,
Preserve you from the kill.
Not all of wisdom brings joy."


"Four of those five," the first one said,
Are not enough to appease the dead.
To save my world all this strife must cease,
So now I bid you to conjure peace."
The god said "Yes. Though it grieves me sore,
For I was also a god of war,
And I remember what you forget,
Four of those five you may still regret."

He raised his voice and he raised his hand.
All strife stopped at the god's command.
No voice ventured an angry word,
No hand struck and no weapon stirred.
In time, the man called the old god back.
"Look," he cried, "what my people lack!
One lord rules over all the earth,
And we're all his slaves from the hour of birth."

"Look, he owns all wealth, and he owns all land,
We starve and die under his command.
He speaks the truth and he gives us peace,
But all that I hope for is our release."
The old god said, "This is what you willed.
For only thus is your wish fulfilled.
War's five sources I took away,
Yet I will give four of them back today."

He raised his hand and his voice once more,
And all the world overturned in war.
And when the last of those fires let fall,
There was no lord in the world at all.
"Go rebuild now," the old god said,
"Feed the living and bury the dead,
And remember this when you speak of war,
And think upon what is worth fighting for."

"The sun is also a warrior.
Knowledge can also destroy.
Nor can the kindest will,
Preserve you from the kill.
Not all of wisdom brings joy."


by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/oVBbVZqBfHc

[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Berserker

Oh do not seek to know what lies
Behind these mild and patient eyes
For I have seen the demon's power
And even let the monster run
In certain unforgotten hours

The fire that sleeps within the blood
Can waken to a burning flood
That sweeps away whatever moves
Before the wordless killer's eyes
Oh do not cry to see it proved

So leave the devil where it lies
Cast no blood into my eyes
And never place my life in threat
For when the monster comes alive
If you survive, you won't forget

The roar when language falls away
The vision leached to black and grey
The speed that makes the wind feel slow
The strength beyond the bones' designs
These are the signs I too well know

I wear my weapons openly
Tolerant kind though I must be
I keep the Fenris wolf in reins
But this much warning I must give
That while I live the beast remains

by Leslie Fish


[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Flight 93

She took off from Newark on a warm autumn day,
With forty-five travellers and crew.
They all were unarmed at the will of the law;
Security passed them all through.
An hour into flight-time, four Arabs jumped up --
Two Ahmeds, Ziad and Sa'eed --
Announced a hijacking and waved knives around
(Razorblades, box-knives and steak-knives they'd found),
And a box that they swore was a bomb up and down;
They thought that was all they would need.

Flight 93 no more will fly.
Dead on the ground or dead in the sky:
You might not survive, but at least you can try.
Stand up and bring the ship down.


CeeCee the stewardess had a cell-phone,
And called up her husband to say:
"The plane has been hijacked. We'll do as we're trained;
Be quiet and humbly obey.
They'll dicker for money or some social cause.
The government surely will pay.
They'll put us out somewhere and leave with their score,
Or maybe police will come catch them and more.
That's always the way this has been done before.
With luck, I'll be home in a day."

Next was Mark Bingham, who had a phone too,
And used it to call up his Mom.
He said they'd been hijacked by "three foreign men"
Who had knives and said they had a bomb.
But some of the passengers plotted, he said,
To take back the plane as it flew.
"But first tell me, Mom, is it true what they say?
That three other airplanes were hijacked today,
Flown straight into buildings and blew them away?"
His mother cried, and said: "It's true."

Jeremy Glick called his wife on the phone,
And told of the bomb and the knives.
He said: "If these stories we're hearing are true,
We might as well fight for our lives."
His wife told him: "Yes, the World Trade Center's hit,
And maybe the Pentagon too."
He left the phone hanging, then came back and said:
"We've nothing to fight with, and may wind up dead,
But we've voted to stand up and fight them instead,
And we might keep them from getting through."

Thomas Burnett phoned his wife several times,
Reporting the course of the fight.
He said: "One man's been stabbed, and we can't reach the cockpit,
But somehow we'll alter the flight.
We've guessed that the target is likely the White House,
And if we fail, we'll surely die.
We've nothing to fight with except our bare hands,
But we'll keep on trying until the plane lands
One way or the other. We've taken our stand.
My darling, I love you. Goodbye."

Jason the pilot could hear the whole tale.
He'd signaled as well as he could.
He saw that the terrorists still held the cockpit --
And one way to stop them for good.
He watched while the passengers battled and died,
And knew that no help would be found.
The guard was distracted. Just one chance to win.
There's one case where suicide isn't a sin.
He weighed all his chances. He said: "Auger in!"
And drove the ship into the ground.

Flight 93 hit the ground at full speed,
And no one aboard her survives.
But the White House still stands, and a few thousand folks
Can thank those aboard for their lives.
There's no guarantee, when the Bad Guys come in,
That they won't kill you all to a man.
So when some fanatics are out to have fun,
There's nowhere to hide and there's nowhere to run.
Then pray that the law lets you carry a gun,
But fight back however you can.

Flight 93 no more will fly.
Dead on the ground or dead in the sky:
You might not survive, but at least you can try.
Stand up and bring the ship down.


by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/OPYMS9a8ELE

[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Price of Command

This is the price of commanding--
You always stand alone,
Let no one near
To see the fear
Behind the mask you've grown
This is the price of commanding

This is the price of commanding--
That you watch your dearest die,
Sending women and men
To fight again,
And never tell them why
This is the price of commanding

This is the price of commanding--
Mistakes are signed in red--
And you won't pay, but others may,
And your best may wind up dead
This is the price of commanding

This is the price of commanding--
All the deaths that haunt your sleep
And you hope they forgive
And so you live
With their memories buried deep.
This is the price of commanding.

This is the price of commanding--
That if you won't, others will.
So take you post,
Salute each ghost--
You've a debt to them to fill
This is the price of commanding.
This is the price of commanding.

by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/htyHYKtkV8A

[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
The Discards

Look on the horizon.
What do my eyes behold?
Is that a herd of bison
Or a convoy rolling bold?
Could that be my old master
And all his princely crew,
Who ran from the disaster
That they put us peasants through,
They put us peasants through?

Who else would roll so proudly
Across this blasted land?
Who else would bitch so loudly
On every channel band?
Now do they think that no one
Could stay out here alive,
Or did they think us low ones
Were too stupid to survive,
Too stupid to survive?

Why did they leave their bunkers
They built so long ago?
Did they come forth to conquer,
Or did their food run low?
Their wheels so sleek and bossy,
All stuffed with high-tech gear,
No longer look so glossy
After driving long out here,
Driving long out here.

For what looks good in planning
May not be built to last.
Tech toys wore out with manning.
Replacements went out fast.
But salesman's smart assurance
Won't hold you up in hell.
Survival means endurance,
And we've learned that lesson well,
We've learned that lesson well.

For when they fled the city
And left us to our fate,
No panic and no pity,
Nor did we stand and wait,
But jumped up and, unguarded,
We looted for our tools.
We may have been discarded,
But that didn't make us fools,
That didn't make us fools.

So come on, dear old master,
And see what's waiting here.
Our wheels can roll the faster
For lack of fragile gear.
We've stripped down to essentials
Of armor, wheels, and gun.
Don't send me your credentials;
This is no computer run,
No computer run.

No radar for your jamming,
No lasers to deflect.
Just armor made for ramming
And bullets worth respect.
No comps for your misquoting,
No optics to distrust.
Your chips are overloading,
And your laser eats my dust,
Your laser eats my dust.

Now one of you is burning.
Another's punctured well.
A third is overturning.
A fourth is blown to hell.
The fifth is losing power.
The sixth has lost a wheel.
This fate won't last the hour.
Tell me, master, will you deal,
Master, will you deal?

I'll leave you live and walking ...
As much as you left me!
Surrender or quit talking;
Choose death or poverty.
Ah, you're running like the others!
My guns come up to line!
Your friends can face my brothers,
Master, your sweet ass is mine,
Your sweet ass is mine

by Leslie Fish
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Eumenides

What's packed in my hold
Is dearer than gold
Revenge is my cargo this day
Ya' think you have won
But when my job's done
The Fury will force you to pay

My people weren't strong
They've done you no wrong
They just happened to be in your way
You take what you seek
Contempt for the weak
And your battle fleet came yesterday

Like the coward you are
You strike from afar
And death is the harvest you reap
For all we were brave
No warning you gave
My people you slaughtered like sheep

Alone in the dark
I lay near to my death
With hate in my heart
And with my final breath

To whatever gods that
Would listen I pray
That they witness your crimes
And they force you to pay

On Terra, long dead
Old gods it is said
Created the Furies to fly
Win justice to seek
And revenge for the weak
On those whom the law had passed by

Those gods heard my plea
And granted to me
The means of achieving my goal
Oh I think they are just
For to do what I must
The Fury they placed in my soul

Transformed by her hate
Now I am your fate
The gods' chosen weapon of right
The Fury inside
Will not be denied
And I seek my vengeance this night

I've stolen this ship back
With weapons of war
So you will not profit, as you have before
Eluding your fleet
Past your sentries I slip
And the Fury has guided me straight to your ship

She steadies my hand
Her tools I command
Accounting you will not deny
Your ship is in sight
Of my Fury-led flight
And the fires of my vengeance burn high

What's packed in my hold
Is dearer than gold
As dear as my people who fell
When I ram in your side
At the end of my ride
This Fury will send you to hell, to hell
This Fury will take you to hell!

by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/8Q-HWyltn50
[identity profile] duathir.livejournal.com
Advice to Would-Be Heroes

So you want to go earning your keep with your sword
And you think it can't be too hard-
And you dream of becoming a hero or lord
With your praises sung out by some bard
Well now, let me then venture to give you advice
And when all of my lecture is done
We will see if my words haven't made you think twice
About whether adventuring's "fun!"

Now before you seek shelter or food for yourself
Go seek first for those things for your beast
For he is worth far more than praises or pelf
Though a fool thinks to value him least.
If you've ever a moment of leisure to spare
Than devote it. as if to your god,
To his grooming, and practice, and weapons-repair
And seeing you both are well-shod

Eat lightly and sparingly - never full-fed -
For a full belly founders the mind
Ah, but sleep when you can - it is better then bread -
And on night-watch no rest you will find
Do not boast of your skill, for there's always one more
Who would prove he is better than you
Treat sword-ladies like sisters, and not like some whore
Or your wenching days, child, will be few

When you look for a captain, then look for a man
Who thinks first of his men and their beasts,
And who listens to scouts, and has more than one plan,
And heeds not overmuch to the priests
And if you become captain, when choosing your man
Do not look at the "Heroes" at all
For a hero dies young - rather choose yourself ten
Or a dozen whose pride's not so tall

Now your Sword-master's god - whosoever he be -
When he stands there before you to teach
And don't argue or whine, or mock foolishly
Or you'll soon be consulting a leech!
Now most booty is taken by generals and kings
And there's little that's left for the low
So it's best to learn skills for work at odd things
To keep food in your mouth as you go

And last, if you should chance to reach equal my years
You must find you a new kind of trade
For the plea you're still spry will fall on deaf ears -
There's no work for old swords, I'm afraid
Now if all that I've told you has not changed your mind
Then I'll teach you best as I can.
For you're stubborn, like me, and like me of the kind
Becomes one fine Swords-woman or man!

by Leslie Fish

http://youtu.be/9ZBb8wMOI_Y

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