Poems...

Hello everyone. These poems were written by my brother, Punk Pashtet.

Are You a Punk?

You have unconventional ideas
in your head,
For example, to skip school
and not go home,
But go for a walk
or drink beer with friends,
To get
more positivity in life.

You are probably a Punk
or you consider yourself one,
Tell me how
you understand this word.
What have you done yourself,
Tell me now, without pretense,
Tell us all,
what you intend to do next.

Will you smoke weed,
drink beer and have fun.
Then what's the point of living,
maybe you should just shoot yourself.
You are probably a Punk
or you consider yourself one,
But everything is not as it seems,
you don't understand everything correctly.

Look at the world,
what can change in it,
if you
just drink, smoke and have fun.
So come on,
stop with these stupid things,
if you are a Punk, then know,
DIY is the foundation of everything.

And you, brother,
shouldn't be angry with me.
Do something yourself,
and we will have fun together.
We will relax,
we will drink beer with friends,
we will get
twice as much positivity.

The rain lives in me.

The sky is torn by lightning scars.
I like this rain,
and the wind, rustling like waves,
and the fine tremor
of pure, holy water,
washing away the dirt from the world.
And I stand under the thunderstorm,
to fully enjoy it.

Cold splashes beat
on my skin, scarred with wounds.
How much the rain resembles
the thoughts of rebellious minds,
dreaming of changing the world,
cleansing it of pain and dirt.
And the rain continues to live
in phrases that beat like drops.

Freedom or death

To overcome the tired soul
and ignite a flame in your heart.
I decided for myself that it is better,
better to stand under the black banner.

I have always sought the meaning of life,
often stumbling upon walls.
Yes, there is only one path to victory,
one path – to destroy the system.

What is there to be afraid of, why,
life in a cage is worth nothing.
Don't regret it, give it your all,
put your will into a worthy cause.

No to state ghettos!

He called himself an anarchist,
an unyielding fighter for freedom,
and they, branding him an extremist,
locked him up behind bars, you bastards.
But on the wall of his dirty cell
a phrase is scratched with a brick somewhere,
a phrase that has absorbed the meaning of life
– No to state ghettos!

He didn't go to the barricades,
he didn't throw grenades at tanks,
he just lived, not merging with the herd,
like real punks live.
And on the wall of his dirty cell
he scratched the words of an answer,
a phrase that has absorbed the meaning of life
– No to state ghettos!

If you like the poems, comment)). And I also have a link to his website in my signature. There you can download a book with poems written before July 2007. New poems can also be found on the website.