The Poetry of Race and Freedom

By John "Birdman" Bryant


The function of poetry is to stir the emotions, and there are few subjects more stirring than those of race and liberty. I have selected some of my best poems on these subjects to reproduce here for your reading enjoyment.

I always wanted to be America's Poet Laureate, but having discovered that this is the exclusive province of a snot-wad of illiterate liberal Klingons, I have decided to aspire to be the Poet Laureate of White America -- hoping, of course, that it does not meet the same fate as White Russia.

The Plan

A significant number of blacks believe in something they call The Plan, a plot by whites to exterminate blacks and other minorities by infecting them with AIDS. This is pretty obviously a paranoid fantasy, inasmuch as the huge outlays by mostly-white taxpayers for mostly-black welfare recipients has been subsidizing the breeding of people of off-color for almost half a century, to say nothing of the fact that AIDS itself is largely a fantasy. But there really is a Plan -- the plan to exterminate the white race by immigration, integration, affirmative action and similar 'multicult' programs whose effect will be to cause the extinction of the white genome by inbreeding with blacks and other Turd-Worlders, and which will result in the destruction of white culture and its idea of political and personal liberty which has made Western civilization the envy of all others. The poem below is one I wrote about that Plan -- a plan I thought might be accelerted by Y2K, or by biowarfare or similar attacks on the US population by foreigners angry at the US government's meddling in their affairs -- something of which there seems to be no end. In fact, the reason our government is such a meddler may be precisely because those who control it are hoping to prompt foreigners into attacks on America with the hope that this will provide a sufficient excuse to scrap the Constitution and finally put freedom six feet under in the name of 'security'. They already tried it at the World Trade Center and Oklahoma City; and since neither of these worked too well, we can expect something really nasty next time.

They say it started way back in the days of FDR --

You couldn't 'hoard' your sugar or the gas used for your car,

Machine guns were illegalized and likewise so was gold,

And concentration camps were tried to help the Plan unfold.

The Plan, they say, was just to make the world a Better Place,

Totalitarian? Why, yes -- but 'with a human face'.

It was the same plan as the Church, the Nazi and the Red:

You do what you are told, by God, or else you'll soon be dead!

Conservatives, they love the Plan -- they'll stamp out booze and vice,

And drugs and porn and laziness -- won't such a world be nice!

The liberals, too, just love the Plan, they'll stamp out guns and hate,

Raise up minorities and let the whole world immigrate!

Conservatives or liberals, why, what difference does it make?

They want to stamp out freedom and increase the taxman's take,

As does the Jew's Establishment, whose overblown Six Million

And non-existent 'gassings' have been worth two hundred billion!

The time is coming shortly when the Powers make their play --

A time when there is little doubt that they can have their way:

They'll stampede us into their trap like good old FDR:

Make others hate America so much they'll start a war.

But not a war they cannot win -- a war of tanks and planes --

But one that sets men's guts on fire and makes mush of their brains:

Some botulism in the air, some anthrax in the well,

Will give us time to pray for death to take us from this Hell.

Some will survive, of course, and having seen the genocide,

Will beg to have a fortress built that they may live inside;

But what they'll get is prison walls, and what they'll be is slaves,

And what else for their masters but the vilest form of knaves?

Now if the Plan's completed, then our freedom's at an end,

So now's the time to take a stand and freedom to defend.

To do whatever we can do, to vow 'Live free or die';

To bring the rogues to heel and cut the Eagle free to fly.


The Statue of Liberty: A Modest Proposal

The Statue of Liberty which stands on Bedloe's Island in the harbor of New York City was a gift to America from the people of France to symbolize France's friendship with America and its love for the principle of political freedom for which America is famous. Some years after the statue was erected, a plaque containing a poem by Emma Lazarus was mounted on its base. The most famous lines of this now-well-known poem read as follows:

Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:

I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

Ms Lazarus' poem was an acknowledgement that -- at the time, at least -- America was a land of immigrants whose motivation for coming here had often been a search for political and religious freedom. Unfortunately, however, as a result of the rise of the American welfare state in the present century and the 1965 immigration law which changed immigration policy from one largely restricted to white Europeans to one favoring the darker races of the Turd World, the primary motivation for most immigrants has now become not merely an economic one, but one with the specific intent of collecting as much as possible from the myriad forms of welfare which the American nanny state provides so generously to both citizens and non- citizens alike. For this reason, it is my suggestion that the plaque containing Ms Lazarus' poem be replaced by one containing the following revised version:

Give me those tired of being poor

And yearning to live free --

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore --

Send these, the penniless, to me:

I lift my skirt and play the Golden Whore.


Racist Rot

I'm a racist, I'm a bigot --

Multiculture, I don't dig it;

Good White Power I would like to see return.

But until we put a ration

On reverse discrimination

Poor old Whitey's gonna sit in Hell and burn.

I don't really mind Young Blackie

Tho pants turned around seems tacky

And his doggie dangling is a bit extreme;

But when bullets start a-flying

'Lectric chairs should start a-frying

So that God might chance such black souls to redeem.

I have always thought hate dreadful

And I hate to have a headful,

But when liberals push us up against the wall,

Shame our race with stories tearful --

Take our guns and make us fearful --

It is bound to cause a welling of the gall.

Forced race-mixing is explosive --

Causes feelings most corrosive --

Makes the races hate each other more and more;

And with do-good liberal motives

It's not long till fascist votives

Oversee a sea of angry blood and gore.

Liberals say all men are equal

And we now must face the sequel

Where a bad man's said to be the same as good:

Where stupidity is smartness

And what's sweet's called bitter tartness

And the world, and language, on its head is stood.

I would like to judge on merit,

But when Darks do not inherit

Quite the same brains as their smarter, whiter kin,

One is often more efficient

If one counts Darks as deficient

Even tho this is a Horrid Racist Sin.

But the thing that really rankles

Is the chain around my ankles

Known as taxes which enslaves me to the black:

I must pay to raise their bastards

And again when all these dastards

Choose to do drugs, rape, steal, murder, and ransack.

Can the liberals see their failings?

Can they hear the people's wailings?

Is it likely Hell will overfreeze this noon?

Let us find a tree that's high,

Where we can hang 'em out to dry,

And, to survive, we surely better do it soon.



The liberals love the handicapped, the homeless and the queer,

The black, the yellow, brown and red -- what joy to kiss their rear!

The liberal guilt from life's rewards compels them to lie down

And turn the other cheeks so every low-life can have brown!

But do the liberals love so much the Turd World garbage pile

To let it wash up on our shores, our nation to defile?

To toss into the mem'ry hole the jewel of the West,

And pull us into some Black Hole, its shining to protest?

No, liberals do not love the low -- they hate the good instead,

But most of all they hate themselves, the mark of men brain-dead.

Like saints, the fest'ring sores of bums they use their tongues to lick:

The bottom-feeding, bottom-kissing liberals make me sick!


Some Dark Humor a la Gilbert and Sullivan

Gilbert and Sullivan are probably the most famous team of musical comedy playwrights in the English language, and one of their funniest and best-known songs is that of Gama in the play Princess Ida which begins

If you give me your attention, I will tell you what I am:

I'm a genuine philanthropist -- all other kinds are sham.

Each little fault of temper and each social defect

In my erring fellow-creatures I endeavor to correct.

and every stanza of which ends with the refrain

Everybody says I'm such a disagreeable man

And I can't think why!

In his column entitled "Judgments in black and white" (St Petersburg Times, 7 August 93: 1B), black columnist Elijah Gosier reports on a black woman who is angry at the message which is constantly being given out by whites in the present day to the effect that "black is bad". Gosier ends his column with a quote from the woman: "We have to speak out. We have to ask why." In a take-off of the above-mentioned song, I attempt in my own humble way to answer this question:

We came as slaves from Africa -- sold out by other blacks --

(But for convicted criminals, 'twas better than the ax.)

We brought our genes across the sea -- a real-life Trojan horse --

Now -- being free -- we'll outbreed whites and take their land by force.

The liberals steal from working folk, our brats to subsidize,

They cannot grasp that helping us just earns them our despise.

But spreading our dysgenic genes is not our only trick:

Unrest, and AIDS, and racial hate are in our bailiwick.

The mem'ry of a slavish past we seek but to erase,

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!

O black is beautiful, they say, and sure enuf it's true --

It's why the "bruthas" so much want a cute white piece to screw.

We call our woman "bitch" and "hoa" (and worse when we are stoned),

But gladly take the money that she gets from being boned.

Black "families" are the offspring of a salmon gone to spawn:

The "mothers" live off welfare while the "fathers" are long gone.

Condoms? Pills? Who needs 'em? All we want to do is fuck.

Don't call us irresponsible -- we're just down on our luck!

O with our breeding habits, Devil whites we'll soon replace;

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!

They say that we are failures 'cause we need more self-esteem,

We need Black Studies which will prove that blacks do more than dream;

But look around you, brutha, and just see what blacks have done:

We're losers in the battle every other group has won.

You don't start out with self-esteem -- it's what you get from tryin' --

You'll never get it from a bunch of "scholars" who are lyin';

In fact we hate ourselves, you know -- why else to change our name?

First "Negro", "black", then "African" -- we're running from our shame.

We're good as anybody -- all the courts support our case;

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!

It's jobs that are the issue -- welfare's just a stopgap thing,

But we ain't flippin' burgers at no goddam Burger King.

Just fifty thou at entry level's all we'll set you back:

We're overqualified, you know -- our skin is colored black.

And don't request our test results -- it's racist to the core --

'Cause drugs is 'bout the only way that we know how to score.

It's better to use quotas -- give us blacks a cut of loot --

'Cause you don't want to have to fight an EEOC suit.

For civil rights' uncivil wrongs are liberal whites' disgrace,

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!

O Africa our homeland! O, how close to you we feel;

No matter that your culture did not even have the wheel.

With Afros and dashikis we proclaim our roots to all,

And thus confirm how close we are to superstitious thrall.

And if there's any doubt then look at any ghetto street:

The filth, the gangs, the drugs, the crime are what they all secrete.

Culture? Civilization? Where? Black Plague is what it's like:

This country's heart impaled upon a deadly darkling spike.

The multicultural melting pot we seek but to embrace,

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!

A "high crime area"'s just a code for where the black folks are;

A full one-fourth of young black males are hauled before the bar;

And maybe Bernie Goetz was, too, but people loved him still:

In self-defense he shot some blacks -- and proved white men can't kill.

Our riots aren't so bad -- we only trash the ghetto store,

And thus by looting near to home we all can carry more.

But don't condemn us for our crimes -- we only take by rights:

We take whatever's right for blacks -- to hell with all the whites.

We're asking only that our rights be granted now apace,

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!

We started out by integrating all the public schools;

We've trashed most of the system -- made the liberals look like fools;

Insisted on "equality" -- no matter that we're not --

So now the schools are all "dumbed down" with sick progressive rot.

But schools were just a starter -- we have trashed the cities, too --

We shake them down with riot threats for "social justice" due;

Reverse discrimination helps us trash the businessman;

Demands for "reparations" cap our trashy master plan.

Equality is but our goal, and civil rights our case,

But everybody says we's such a disagreeable race

And I can't think why!


Vox Unpopulaire

The liberals call me racist;

The hunkers call me dumb;

The moderates don't know me --

I'm shunned by everyone.

I'm shunned because I tell the truth --

I leave no faults unshown,

So thus I reap the rood of ruth

And thereby stand alone.

But tho I may now stand alone

I stand alone and proud --

I do the right by conscience shown

And thus stand from the crowd.

I do not wince, I do not cry,

I hold my course with steady eye,

For there's no strife can poison life

When ready, we, to die.


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