He was 16 when he set off on his own to blow up parts of England. His time in a borstal gave him the materiel for a book. He wrote poetry in both Gaelic and English. He had famous friends across the globe. He stayed in the Chelsea Hotel. He drank himself to death. He was Brendan Behan. This is his poem.
Pablo Neruda, that renowned and principled Chilean poet, is a favourite of Rebel Voice. Neruda won a Nobel Prize for literature and was a lifelong socialist stalwart. It was his political and humanitarian beliefs, as well as his success as a writer, that lead to the fascist, General Pinochet, having the scribe murdered whilst sick. […]
Imagine there is no war, my friend. Dear child, the world weeps blood. Whole world blinded by hate and separation. Who will tell the child? He was born with no chance or opportunity, born to learn to survive daily. Living in refugees camps. Unwanted and forgotten. ——————————– By a River I drove […] via Imagine there […]
Here is a gentle piece of verse from the roguish Irish poet and playwright, Brendan Behan. Teacht an Earraigh – The Coming Of Spring Springtime Oh you coarse Gaelic Cold! I hate your sour expression! The north wind blows: Tough tormented trembling Without vitality or verve Without youth or use Until the bright feast of […]
Here is a beautiful, translated poem from the Chilean Nobel Prize Winner, Pablo Neruda. Fascists murdered Neruda but they couldn’t kill either his words or his legacy. The verse of Pablo will live on long after Pinochet is a sick footnote in Chilean history. Lost In The Forest Lost in the forest, I broke off […]
The following poem by the Nobel prize-winning Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda, is a critique of the capitalist United Fruit Company, which was a US owned corporation that caused irreparable harm to any Latin American country that it set up in. The company was responsible for the term ‘Banana Republic, used to describe those nations effectively […]
Here is a beautiful poem from the Nobel Prize winning Chilean bard. Neruda, a committed Socialist, died as the result of an assassination ordered by the fascist dictator, General Pinochet. His poetry lives on while Pinochet’s legacy is one of bloodshed and deception. Ultimately, beautiful verse wins out again. Lone Gentleman The gay young men […]
A poem from our resident poet, A.D., about the terrors of nighttime and the possibility of salvation in the light.
Here is a poem by a relative unknown with a passion for his craft. The power of the poem is a wondrous thing indeed. It is the great leveller and accessible to all. From the slum dweller to the resident of a penthouse, from one race to another, one gender to the next, poetry belongs to humanity. Long may it remain so.
Here is a Brendan Behan poem translated from his native Gaelic. He was a hearty man who lived life to the full and died all too soon. His legacy endures.
Here is a gentle poem from the Chilean literary genius, Pablo Neruda, who won a Nobel Prize in 1971. He was murdered on the orders of the fascist, General Pinochet, who was friend to both UK and US governments at the time. Leave Me A Place Underground Leave me a place underground, a labyrinth, where […]
The Russians Are Coming The Russians are coming, they’re in your head. The Russians are coming, they’re under your bed. They’ll steal your wives and rape your cattle And eat your beef and win online battles And buy your malls and wreck your cars And burn your flags and close your bars And ban TV […]